Chapter Seven
Tyler
Before Colt, I’d never taken a man home to Mama Nancy. She’d liked him well enough, approved of him, and they’d gotten on pretty good. I had kind of grieved what I’d thought I’d have with him, then that made me feel bad, that I mourned the loss of what if more than I mourned losing him.
He deserved better.
The ending of us and the realization I wanted the life Colt represented more than I wanted him as a person made me cautious with Jase, even as I wanted to dive into the warmth and gentleness and steadiness of who he was and roll around in those qualities.
We rolled around in bed often enough, and that was good.
But then there was him, and I wanted that in a way I’d never wanted Colt for himself.
I believed the desire I had for him as a person was important – and terrifying – all at the same time.
But the fact Mama Nancy loved him on their first meeting? That settled me down a lot.
Now, the fact she loved him did not mean she didn’t grill him. I was her little girl, she told me often enough, even if I’d come to her late in life and half grown, and she was serious about any man I was serious about.
All two of them.
The first time I took Jase home, she fixed lunch – way more food than we needed since we were going to the Bartletts’ for a fish fry later – and I’d been proud to walk him into our home.
Not because it was big, historic, and beautiful, even though it was all those things, but because it was home, where Mama Nancy had raised me.
Where she’d chosen me.
In the foyer, with its tall ceiling and original nineteenth century tiles, he quirked a brow at Mama Nancy’s favorite original David Lanier, hanging over the antique table where we tossed down our keys on a silver tray that had belonged to Mama Nancy’s great-grandmother.
The painting of a red dirt road with trees arching over it was her favorite because it had been her ex-husband’s favorite and she’d kept it in the divorce.
Her holiday decor lingered, candles and the pink and ivory sparkle she loved instead of red and green, a bit of holiday greenery she could sneak into January.
The final three years of my childhood – really, the only years that felt like childhood – had been like living in a Hallmark movie. And I loved it.
For lunch, the table in the kitchen was done up, with her brown and white Moore and Company china and gleaming silver.
Flowers in white and ivory and more pale pink filled a silver pitcher, and the sun poured in through the big windows that looked out into the garden, a secret little space with neat hedges and a sparkling fountain.
Fresh bread and spices lingered in the bright air of the warmest room in the house.
Jase paused in the wide hallway between the foyer and the kitchen, studying the photos grouped there in gold frames – my senior portrait, a couple of other shots from the years since high school. He lingered, smiling, his whole body relaxed.
I stepped by him, peeking at the serving bowls on the table – chicken salad, pimiento cheese, those spicy bread-and-butter pickles Mama Nancy put up every summer. My mouth watered.
“There’s my girl.” Mama Nancy held out her arms, bracelets tinkling on her left wrist, and I went into her embrace, inhaling Portrait of a Lady and home.
I soaked in her tight hug, then pulled back to wave Jase closer.
He looked perfectly at home here, in his button down and jeans and slightly worn driving mocs.
Colt had stood in this same kitchen, wearing almost the same outfit, but never appeared like he belonged.
“Mama Nancy, this is Jase Hatcher.” I wound my arm about Mama Nancy’s waist and hugged myself into her. “Jase, this is my mama, Nancy Grant.”
His easy grin lit up his face, and he stepped forward, hand extended. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
She held on a moment, eyes narrowed behind her big cats-eye glasses, sizing him up. He never flinched.
“Welcome to our home.” She pressed her fingers on his and let go. Her face relaxed into a genuine smile, so my tension drained away. She liked him. “Tyler’s told me a lot about you.”
He quirked a brow at me, grin widening. “I’ve talked about her to my mama, too.”
“Have you met his parents yet?” She pinned a look on me, crossing to the counter to pour drinks and passing Jase one of her patented sunrise spritzers.
Her flowy dress, a peacock blue with swirls of green, gold and brown, shifted with each movement, her auburn curls that showed no signs of gray framing her face.
“No.” A hint of heat touched my cheekbones, and I ignored the glint of amusement in Jase’s eyes. “His grandparents. His grandmother is Mrs. Hatcher from Chandler-Haynes.”
Mama Nancy stilled, both hands flattened on the marble island. “Really.”
“Yes.” I lifted my chin, grimacing. “She was happy to see me.”
“She was thrilled to see you,” Jase said, his voice quiet. He stepped closer, free hand landing wide and steady and warm at the base of my spine. “My parents have been in Arkansas for the past month. Already talked to Mama about us getting together when they get back.”
“Tell me about your family.” She nudged us toward the table. Jase held my chair while Mama Nancy settled, then took his own seat.
While we fixed plates, he did. He was an only child and so was his daddy.
His mama was from Valdosta, and he had an aunt and cousins over there.
His mama’s parents were gone, but he was close to his daddy’s parents, Mrs. Hatcher and her husband.
His voice rang with love and affection for his family, and I soaked that up, soaked him up, aware of Mama Nancy looking between us the whole time.
“What do you do?” Mama Nancy put a dainty bite of pimiento cheese on a toast point and studied him. I wrinkled my nose at her. She already knew that because I’d told her, days ago. Jase and I had been together weeks now, so I’d told her most everything.
“I’m a heavy equipment mechanic. I’ve been with the John Deere dealership out of Pelham for almost two years.
” Fork poised over his chicken salad, he held Mama Nancy’s gaze, his expression open and earnest. “Before that I did the same kind of work in north Florida for a couple of years after I got out of the Air Force. I joined right out of high school and did four years.”
Mama Nancy dipped her chin, a slow nod. Lips pursed, she gestured in his direction with another toast point. “You were engaged until very recently.”
I cringed. She knew that from me, too, but at the same time, I appreciated her. I could always trust her to look out for my best interests.
“Yes, ma’am.” His mouth pinched into a grimace as a pained frown drew his brows together. “That relationship was a bad habit it took me a while to break. Mama and Daddy raised me to work on a relationship, but of course, you both have to be working toward the same thing. We weren’t.”
Mama Nancy stared, and I knew she was worrying the inside of her lip, gauging his honesty. For a moment, I thought she’d ask him more, but etiquette and respect for his privacy won out, I guess.
We drifted into less fraught topics, like Georgia versus Auburn and his time in the Air Force. He’d told me a little, but I liked hearing about it. Once we’d finished eating, he helped clear the table and wash up.
“Ms. Grant, mind if I use your restroom?” He dried his hands and folded the dishtowel over the oven door handle.
“Not at all.” She pointed down the hall toward the study. “Second door on the left.”
His loafers whispered on the gleaming hardwood. I waited until the door shut behind him to pounce on Mama Nancy. “Well?”
Glass full of a not-so-virgin sunrise in hand, she leaned against the counter and regarded me with that pursed-lips consideration once more. “I like him. He doesn’t have that air of desperation about him that Colt had. You don’t need that energy in your life, Tyler Anne.”
“I know.”
The toilet flushed down the hall. The hush of running water followed.
“Do you know he’s over that little girl who had his ring?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I couldn’t resist a smirk, but dropped the expression at Mama Nancy’s narrowed eyes.
“Tyler.”
“He is. I’m sure.” He looked at me, touched me, like I was Christmas morning and his birthday rolled into one.
Like I was everything.
And he made me believe I was.
The door creaked open. I glanced down the hall to watch his approach, that measured walk and erect bearing of his. I loved to watch him move.
We took our leave not long after, and Mama Nancy hugged him, too, when we left. I kissed her cheek with a see you later, since we would all be at the Bartletts’ in a few hours.
The house was only a couple of blocks off the historic downtown, so we headed that way.
He parked in the big lot next to the fire department, and we ambled, hand in hand, to Broad Street.
The trees had lost their leaves, stretching naked branches toward the sky, but the area still held on to its charm.
A hint of the holiday season remained here as well, with the magnolia swag around the yellow doors at Firefly and greenery still decorating the entrances to Kevin’s.
I loved Thomasville. The town was home, too, and I loved walking here with him, his fingers warm around mine as a chilly breeze flirted with my hair.
A hint of woodsmoke and grilled meat drifted from the Chop House.
A car rumbled over the brick pavers on Broad, and shoppers streamed in and out of the stores and boutiques in the historic buildings.
He shifted, dropping my hand to loop his arm about my neck. “I think she liked me.”
I darted a look at him from beneath my lashes. “She did.”
A pleased grin curved his mouth, but he didn’t say anything, just tugged me closer into his side, so my hip bumped his.
I folded my arm around his waist as we approached the Farmer’s Daughter. “We should stop in. They have this seasonal–”