“Hell, yes,” he whispered back.
“Is he here?” A woman called from inside the house, her voice a weathered squeak, and Wren rolled her eyes before pulling him in.
“He’s here, Mamaw,” Wren droned.
And then Lee found himself in front of a smiling woman with curling silver hair and thick glasses. She stood two inches shorter than Wren. “This is Lee, Mamaw. Feast your eyes.”
Wren’s grandmother pushed her bifocals up her nose before offering him her hand. Her smile took up the whole room. “Welcome, welcome, Lee! So glad you could join us. Wren’s never invited a young man to dinner.”
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Blanchard," Lee said, taking her hand. It was easy to offer her a genuine smile. Not just because he felt at home, but because Wren blushed beside him.
“Oh, please, it’s Gigi. Or Mamaw. All Wren’s friends call me Mamaw,” she said, shaking his hand firmly. “Come sit down. Dinner’s ready.”
They entered through a small kitchen and stepped straight into 1972. A counter separated the workspace from a dining area with a round table set for three. Floral melamine plates sat on top of yellow vinyl placemats. Lee grinned, eating it up.
“You sit right there, Lee,” Mamaw Gigi said, pointing to the seat in the middle of the trio. “And, Wrennie, you come get the iced tea.”
Wrennie?
Lee locked eyes with Wren and raised a brow. She scowled at him but followed her grandmother into the kitchen. Wren filled their glasses while Mamaw Gigi made three quick trips back and forth to the table. Buttered peas, mashed potatoes, and Salisbury steak in gravy. Lee figured he hadn’t eaten Salisbury steak since before med school, and his mouth watered in anticipation of a simple, homemade meal.
“This looks amazing, Gigi,” he said with undisguised awe.
The voltage of Mamaw Gigi’s smile kicked up a few joules. “Well, you just go on and serve yourself, dear." She passed him the platter of steak patties while Wren rolled her eyes again.
“Yes,dear,” she teased, batting her lashes. “Please serve yourself.”
Mamaw Gigitsked. “Wren, don’t make fun.”
Lee took the platter from her, and, to make peace, he served Mamaw Gigi and Wren before placing a patty on his own plate.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Wren muttered beside him, reaching for the bowl of peas before helping herself.
“What a gentleman,” Mamaw Gigi gushed. “Wren, isn’t hesucha gentleman?”
Wren shot a glare across the table at her grandmother. “Yes. He is.”
“Yes, indeed,” Mamaw said, missing Wren’s look. “Someone raised you right.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Wren bit off.
Her terse words made Lee look closer. The color was coming to her cheeks, but her smile was nowhere in sight. Wren’s shoulders had crept to her ears. He could almost feel the tension emanating from her.
He’d spent enough time with her to guess at her thoughts. She seemed to have forgotten how hard he’d worked to be by her side, and she somehow still believed she didn’t measure up.
Lee set down the bowl of peas and grabbed her hand. It was tense in his grip, and she frowned when she looked up at him. Lee kept her hand in his and turned to her grandmother. “Mamaw Gigi, please don’t make a fuss over me,” he asked gently. “I’m crazy about Wren, and I’m lucky to be here. I’m glad to finally meet you, and I want Wren to be happy that I’m here.”
For a moment, both women stared at him in stunned silence.
Then Mamaw Gigi burst into startled laughter. “Well, my lands, I guess I was getting carried away. It’s so rare that we have company.” She reached for the bowl of mashed potatoes, then helped herself before passing it across to Wren. Lee felt Wren relax beside him, and he breathed a small sigh of relief.
“And byrareshe meansnever,” Wren said, sounding more like herself. She squeezed his hand before releasing it to serve the potatoes.
It was a good sign, but Lee wanted to chase away any of the thoughts he’d read in her looks a moment before.
And just then, Mamaw Gigi got to her feet. “I forgot the salt and pepper,” she said before darting back to the kitchen.
Lee stole his moment and took Wren’s hand again.