“Granny, no.” Her blush increases, but the rest of us laugh, the chorus of chuckles accompanied by the clink of silverware on plates.

“Go for the big one. I’d love a big strong man to take care of my little Tootsie Roll.”

“Tootsie Roll?” Annabel asks. “Why not Reese’s Pieces?”

“Well aren’t you a clever one,” Granny acknowledges. “It’s a funny story about Reese, here.”

“No. Please. Don’t tell baby stories.”

Jude clears his throat. “Well now you’re gonna have to tell us. We won’t judge. We were babies once too.” He grins. “Y’all are still babies in my book.”

Granny smiles at Jude. “Tootsie Rolls were her grandpappy’s favorite sweet. One day when she was no taller than a weed to a tree, he gave Reese one but told her not to eat it until after we all ate supper. Only minutes later, Reese came out of her room crying because she had already eaten the whole thing. She was so sure she’d be in so much trouble, and Grandpappy was tickled pink at how upset she was over a trifling little thing.” Granny laughs. “She’s been our little Tootsie Roll ever since.”

Reese groans. “Can’t we tell embarrassing stories about someone else? Annabel, you got anything good on Fitz?”

“I tried not to hang out with my little brother when we were growing up. Oh, but he did have the stinkiest feet in the whole world. They were so bad, our momma made him leave his shoes outside.”

“At least I didn’t pick my nose and eat it until I was twelve,” I throw at her.

Annabel sticks her tongue out at me.

“Real mature,” I say. “Let’s hear more about Reese when she was a kid. Was she always so smart?”

Reese cuts a sharp glance my way.

“Always,” says Granny. “That girl came out of the womb with a sense of the world around her. Asked more questions than anyone and was never satisfied until she knew it all. So curious and aware of everything, and yet it was almost too much. Never seen any child so scared to do anything.”

Reese and I lock eyes, but she immediately breaks the contact, her gaze dropping to her plate as she fidgets with her fork.

“Scared?” I ask.

“Good sense of self-preservation. Now, some of it was her sister’s fault. Scarlett felt responsible for Reese, being that she’s six years older. She was so worried Reese would get hurt she made her wear a helmet just to walk around the house. And Reese here loved that helmet. Wore it to bed, like she might fall out and hit herself. Funniest thing you ever saw, a child running around with helmet and knee pads just to go outside and read.”

Everyone laughs at Reese’s embarrassment, but I fight the urge, not wanting to mortify her further.

Annabel is the next to turn the conversation. “What about you, Jude?”

All eyes focus on the unflappable Jude. I swear he tenses for a second, but maybe I imagine it. He leans back further in his seat. “Not much to tell.”