The picnic on Saturday afternoon was a riot. Tonya and Sherie made friends with some other kids around their age, and they were playing Frisbee, chasing each other and just being ten-year-olds.
Marie, Marius, and I remained on the blanket under a tree and watched the girls. My head was in Marius’s lap where he sat, leaning against the rough bark. Gramma Jo was doing a crossword puzzle, or so I thought.
“You boys kiss and makeup?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue.
I heard Marius chuckle. “We weren’t fighting, Momma.”
“You know what I mean, honey.”
“You want to tell her?” I asked, turning my head to stare up at Marius.
“Go ahead, love.” He rubbed a hand over my head, his gaze tender as it roamed my face.
I heard Marie gasp, and I turned to look at her. “Oh my goodness, you got eng
