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keeping his room clean and helping his Grangigi when Mama had to work. He put down his Game Boy and climbed off his bed, trying not to let his feet drag on the carpet as he walked down the hall toward the living room.
    His mama stood next to the sofa, a piece of paper in her hand and a stern look on her face. Grangigi sat in her chair with a similar expression, but as Shaun got closer, her mouth twitched into a tiny smile, giving her away.
    A second later his mama had her hand on his shoulder, and she held the paper in front of him. “You won, baby.”
    Shaun stared at the letter, then at her.
    “The essay you wrote for school. The one about me being a police officer? You won. Best essay.” She moved closer, sliding her hand around his shoulder to pull him into a sideways hug. “Best essay in the whole school. They want you to read it at the school assembly next week.”
     
     
    EVEN A decade later, Shaun could still feel the warmth of her embrace and the pride that practically oozed from her pores. That’s how it felt walking into the house where they’d lived. Like she was still there, arms around him, loving him.
    And, of course, having his gran there just made the feeling stronger.
    “Hey, Grangigi.”
    He rarely used the full nickname. As the only grandchild, he’d been the one to choose what to call her, but he’d shortened it as he’d grown up. She didn’t comment on the difference, just smiled at him from her favorite chair. “Hey there, baby. I made chicken and rice for lunch, so there’s leftovers in the icebox.”
    “Thanks.” He stopped by to kiss her cheek before heading into the kitchen. They only had one standing date for dinner, on Tuesday nights. Between Shaun’s work schedule and Gran’s church meetings and other activities, they never knew when they’d both be home. But Gran liked to cook, so there was nearly always something in the fridge for him to heat up when he got home. Some nights he’d sit up in the living room with her to eat, but tonight he took his bowl of chicken and rice downstairs, heated it up in his microwave while he undressed, and then sat on his bed to eat.
    It hit him halfway through dinner and a rerun of NCIS . “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did I really turn down a date with a smokin’ hot guy in favor of this ?”
    He immediately felt ashamed. This was his family home, the place he’d just been mentally waxing poetic about, and he stayed in part because he hated the idea of his gran living here all alone.
    But at the same time, wasn’t growing up supposed to be about growing out? Leaving the nest and spreading your wings, or some overly sentimental bullshit like that?
    Shaun snickered at himself and dug back into his dinner. He had a job at a gay resort with a clothing-optional back forty. That was about as far from this nest as it was possible to get. “One step at a time,” he told himself.
    And that just made him think of the other thing he’d been putting off: getting in contact with Willis Erwin.
    The last of his rice turned flavorless in his mouth. He swallowed, prevaricated for a few minutes, and finally set the bowl on his nightstand before reaching for his phone.
    Meet me Wednesday at 2. Daily Grind in College Park.
    It seemed like hours before the response came, but it was only about ten minutes.
    I’ll be there, son.
    “Don’t call me son,” Shaun growled at the phone. He tossed it onto the bed next to him and tried go back to watching TV.
    He mostly failed.

Chapter FOUR
     
     
    EVERY SO often, something Shaun’s gran said or did would remind him of her age. This Tuesday night, as he sat at the kitchen table and watched her finish cooking for their weekly dinner date, it was the gray in her hair.
    When she was working, Shaun’s mama had worn her hair in two braids, tightly wound and following the curve of her head on each side. Shaun had lost count of how many times he’d watched her weave the plaits with nimble fingers, taming the natural