Granny flashes her teeth in what might be a smile but also could be a snarl.

More silence, and then Reese speaks, but I have to strain to catch all the words because she’s not yelling anymore.

“What if they don’t want to meet me? They probably love Abby. She’s the one they’ve thought you would be with forever.”

My heart wrenches at the softly spoken words, words laced with an uncertainty I helped create. Reese has struggled with fitting in her whole life, and now I’ve put her in this position . . . “I don’t care what they think.”

“I do. Family matters to both of us.”

“I think my parents will love you just as much as I do.”

More silence at that pronouncement, but Granny does point the gun down at the ground, so it feels like a small victory.

“Will you at least show up for the final challenge?” I call out.

It takes a few long seconds, but then there is an answer on the breeze. A tentative one. “Maybe.”

“What happened to not giving up?”

Silence.

Granny lifts the gun again.

“All right, all right. I’m leaving, but I’m not finished. Please show up Tuesday night, Reese. You have all of tomorrow to think it over. That’s all I ask.”

I immediately drive home and give the news to my parents. Momma already heard from Martha, so it’s not much of a surprise.

What is a surprise is the big hug she gives me.

“You know we love Abby, but I’ve long suspected she’s not the one for you.”

Of all the surprises I’ve been dealt today, it’s a small one in comparison, but it still takes me aback. “You have?”

“Of course, baby. She’s a bit unsteady. You need someone more independent like yourself. Someone who will make you happy and will push you in ways that help you grow, not hold you back.” Momma meets my eyes square on. “Does this girl do that for you?”

A slow smile spreads my face. “She does.”

“Then that’s all I can ask for. Along with some help for Abby. Do you think she’ll talk to someone about her troubles?”

“I’m not sure. I can only hope.”

I finally head back to Jude’s as the sun is setting and find him still reading out on the back porch.

Plopping on the chair in front of him, I lean forward with elbows on my knees. “I really screwed up with Reese. I need to fix it.”

His eyes don’t leave his book. “Is that right?” he murmurs.

“I need your help.”

Now his gaze lifts to mine. “What did you have in mind?”

“It has to be big. A romantic gesture.” Sudden hope lifts my mood. Jude loves romance. “Got any ideas?”

“You could go to her house with a boom box. Blast some Peter Gabriel in front of her door.”

I shake my head. “That’s lame. And Granny might shoot me. I need a chance to see her and talk to her, explain myself and apologize. You know, really grovel.”