Chapter 18
Callie
The July heat in Georgia is brutal. By the time we pull into the church parking lot, sweat’s already gathering behind my knees, my dress sticking in places it shouldn’t.
Inside, the sanctuary hums with noise—fans clicking overhead, kids darting between pews, the smell of brewing coffee strong enough to make my stomach roll before it settles again. I slide into the second pew from the front with my parents.
Josie’s already on the far side with Tanner and his little sister, Charlotte, her engagement ring catching the light every time she moves.
In a few months, she’ll be married. She did it the right way—waiting, planning, walking straight through all the steps everyone expects.
Babies will come later, after vows and pictures and a white dress.
And then there’s me…doing it all backwards.
I watch her laugh at something Tanner says, the ease of it twisting in my chest. For a second, I wish I could be her. Wish I could rewind everything just enough to line my life up the way hers is, where nothing feels out of order and no one has to wonder how or when or why.
Kayce steps up front, guitar slung low, and asks everyone to stand. The first worship song fills the room, voices rising together, familiar and comforting. For a while, I let myself get lost in it, singing, swaying, pretending everything feels the same as it always has.
Then the sermon starts.
Church has always felt safe to me. Like nothing bad can follow you past the double doors. But sitting here now, I feel different. Exposed. Like I don’t quite fit in the way I used to.
I’m eighteen. Pregnant. Having a baby with the guy I’ve been dating less than two months. Sure, I’ve known Mitch my whole life. He’s not some random guy. He’s steady. He’s sweet. He works harder than anyone I know. But still, the weight pressing down on me is almost too much.
I try to focus on my uncle’s words—he’s a great pastor, calm and thoughtful—but my mind won’t cooperate.
Every time I settle in, the feeling comes back, sharp and uncomfortable, like there’s a spotlight trained on me alone.
Like everyone can tell. Like they know something I haven’t said out loud yet.
When Kayce starts the closing song, relief washes through me. The final chord fades, and suddenly everyone’s moving again—laughing, chatting, funneling toward the foyer.
The smell hits me all at once. Coffee. Hairspray. And that overpowering perfume Miss Holly always wears. It swirls around me, heavy enough to make my head spin.
I glance around, searching faces. No one else looks bothered. They’re smiling, greeting each other, perfectly at ease.
I stay where I am, wondering if the peace I used to feel here is something I’ve already lost.
* * *
From church we head straight to my aunt and uncle’s. Everyone’s coming—Kayce, Wrenley, the kids, Josie, Tanner, Charlotte. I invited Mitch but he said he was too busy getting ready for this week.
The second I step through the front door of the house, I’m hit with a wall of smells so strong it makes my stomach lurch—roasted chicken, baked mac and cheese, green beans, rolls, and something sweet I can’t place.
Everything hits my nose at once, sharp and overwhelming, like someone shoved my face into every dish.
My mouth waters in the wrong way. My stomach twists, and not the butterflies kind. More like the if-I-breathe-too-deep-I-might-hurl kind.
I swallow hard, try to smile like everything’s normal, but the wave of nausea rolls higher.
When I turn the corner and actually see all the food, it hits even worse. I spin and head to the bathroom down the hall, praying no one’s inside.
And there goes my breakfast.
After I flush and start to clean myself up, I hear my mom outside the door. “Callie? We’re waiting on you.”
“Sorry, I’m coming.”
I make it out to the dining table and sink into the chair beside Wrenley.
“You okay?” she whispers, leaning closer, her eyes scanning my face.
My throat feels tight, but I nod. “Yeah! Just been holding it.”
Her brows pull together, the tiniest bit of concern flashing before she nods and lets it go.
Uncle Doug prays and the food goes around. I put a little of each thing on my plate. That way it’ll look like I ate some of everything.
And while we eat and converse, I just sit still, breathing slow and shallow, hoping nobody actually notices I haven’t touched a bite.
* * *
Mitch and Macy saved the day—picking me up right after we finished lunch. No cleanup, no dessert, no lingering. I could’ve cried from the relief.
Brad leaves for the academy tomorrow, so we decided to hang out one last time by the creek—fish, swim, sit around doing nothing. Whatever. He won’t be back until November. And right now, that feels impossibly far away.
My mind drifts ahead anyway. To November. To where Mitch and I might be by then. Will I be showing? The whole town will know for sure. Will it be okay? Will I be miserable? Will I still be living at home, trying to prep for a baby in my childhood bedroom? Or will we have our own place?
And how would that even work?
Are we allowed to live together? Is that okay? He already got me pregnant—surely living together to raise the baby isn’t the worse sin here, right?
The questions pile up, one on top of the next, until the weight of them presses against my chest and makes it hard to breathe.
Meanwhile, Mitch and Macy have no idea what’s going on inside my head. They’re just talking like normal—laughing, arguing over music as it plays through the speakers. Mitch drives with his arm hanging out the window, relaxed, like this is just another summer night.
Like everything’s fine.
And I sit there quietly in the back seat, watching the road stretch out ahead of us, wondering how something can feel so normal on the outside while everything inside me feels like it’s shifting at once.
When we get to the creek, we’re the last to arrive.
Brad’s standing on the dock, beer in hand, the sun catching his shoulders.
Luke’s at the edge of the water with a cigarette tucked in his lip, a beer dangling from his fingers.
Maddie’s already claimed a spot in the grass, spreading out a blanket, barefoot, wearing jean shorts and a bright yellow bikini top.
“Last day of freedom, huh?” Mitch bellows toward the dock.
Brad cracks a grin, lifting his beer. “Yeah. Feels a little weird.”
Whatever Mitch says next gets lost because Macy and I peel off toward Maddie.
“Hey,” Maddie smiles. “I brought snacks and drinks. I just didn’t grab them yet.”
“Oh, I can,” Macy says, already heading back toward Luke’s truck.
Maddie looks at me then. “How are you feeling?”
I shake my head. “Not good. Every day’s kind of a gamble.”
“Sorry,” she says quietly.
The guys are laughing about something, cigarette smoke swirling up above all their heads. I look back at Maddie. She’s reserved—shoulders tight, eyes a little distant.
“Are you good?” I ask softly.
She nods, then hesitates. “I think. Luke and I…we’ve been fighting a lot.”
“Oh.” I act surprised, but I’m not.
“Me leaving for college in a few weeks is really getting to him.” She exhales. “And Brad’s leaving too. I don’t know. He just doesn’t like change, I guess.”
I sit down on the blanket beside her. “Yeah. He doesn’t have much stability. Two close friends are leaving. Plus, he loves you more than all of us combined.”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, I don’t know. He’s got Pappy too. He’ll be fine.”
“He will,” I agree. “He just needs time to adjust.”
She sighs heavily, leaning back on her hands, her stare sharpening into space. “If we make it there,” she mutters.
Before I can push, Macy’s voice cuts in from behind us. “Good Lord—how much beer did Luke pack?!”
She’s hauling the cooler toward us by herself, face strained.
Brad and Mitch bolt off the dock to help her, both scolding her at once about not asking for help.
I glance back toward Luke. He’s gone quiet now, watching Maddie when he thinks she’s not looking. His jaw is tight, shoulders tense. Even the way he smokes feels rigid, like he’s holding something in.
And for the first time since we pulled in, the creek doesn’t feel quite as easy as it used to.
* * *
Holland and Nash have been feral all day.
Just busy, loud. Rambunctious. Holland wanted to paint rocks this morning, which turned into painting the patio, the grass, and her own legs. Nash has wanted to do nothing but eat all day.
By five o’clock, they’re both on the living room rug building a block tower, nicely and together.
The front door opens, and Wrenley steps in. Both kids barrel straight into her legs, yelling “Mommy!” and talking over each other about rocks and snacks and blocks.
She laughs, dropping her bag by the door and crouching to hug them both. “Okay, okay—one at a time. You’re gonna knock me over.”
I smile from the kitchen, leaning against the counter. The house smells like chicken and garlic, not the worst thing in the world, but not my favorite.
I wash my hands at the sink, scrubbing longer than I need to, letting the cool water steady me. When I turn back, Wrenley’s already setting her bag down on the counter, slipping into the rhythm of being home.
I grab my stuff, heading toward the living room to say goodbye to Holland and Nash before I go.
“Callie,” Wrenley says.
I stop, turning back.
She hesitates just a beat—enough that my stomach tightens. Then, carefully, “I’ve been meaning to ask you…how is Maddie?” My pulse climbs straight into my throat.
The way she’s looking at me, not casual, not curious, but searching tells me everything. She already knows. Or at least…she suspects enough that she’s bracing herself.
I try to answer, but my eyes burn. Pressure builds behind them, fast and overwhelming. I stare at the floor, because if I look at her, I’m done.
Her voice lowers. “It’s not Maddie…is it?”
That’s it. The breath leaves my body in one sharp, silent rush, like my lungs forgot what they’re supposed to do. Tears come instantly—hot, fast, almost violent in how quickly they spill over. I shake my head once, helplessly, before my face crumples completely.
And then Wrenley is there.
Her arms wrap around me without another word, pulling me in, holding me like she’s been expecting this moment all along. The dam breaks as everything I’ve been carrying finally floods out.
“Deep breaths,” she murmurs into my hair. “You’re going to be okay.”
I sob against her shoulder, my body shaking as everything I’ve been holding in crashes over me at once—every fear, every what-if, every version of the future I don’t know how to picture yet.
When I finally pull back, my face is wet, my chest aching.
I scrub at my eyes with the heel of my hand.
“Nobody knows,” I choke out. “Except Mitch. And…a couple friends.” My voice wobbles.
“I don’t know how to tell my parents. Or Josie.
Or Mitch’s parents. I don’t even know how—” I swallow hard. “How we’re supposed to do this.”
Wrenley doesn’t rush me. She just keeps a steady hand on my back. “You don’t have to tell everyone all at once,” she says gently. “That’s the first thing you need to understand, okay?”
I nod, even though my chest still feels tight.
The front door opens.
Heavy footsteps—unmistakable. Kayce.
I wipe my eyes quickly as Wrenley steps past me, clearly about to say something, but she doesn’t get the chance.
“What’s going on?” he asks, already reading the room.
“Callie’s just—” Wrenley starts.
“Having a baby,” I say quietly, finishing it for her.
Kayce freezes for half a second. His eyes widen. “What?”
I cross my arms over my stomach, suddenly painfully aware of my body, of everything. I hate how exposed I feel standing there.
He exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. “Wow. Okay.” He nods to himself. “Alright.”
He looks at me again, calmer now. “Have you been to the doctor yet?”
“Not yet. My appointment’s next Thursday.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Wrenley asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “Mitch is going.”
Kayce jumps in again, “Do your parents know?”
“No,” Wrenley answers at the same time I shake my head.
Kayce glances at her like there’s more he wants to say, then thinks better of it. When he looks back at me, his voice is gentle. “You should tell them, Callie.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I will. After the appointment. I just— I don’t want to jump the gun. What if the tests aren’t right?”
Wrenley tilts her head, half-serious, half-teasing. “I watched you yesterday, Callie. You couldn’t even look at your food.”
Despite myself, a small, shaky smile breaks through.