True to his word, within thirty minutes, Charlie pulled up to his sister’s little two-bedroom white house. She’d just painted—well, he’d painted—the shutters and front door a dark green and he had to admit it looked good. Before he could even climb out, she was already out the front door, her son with his usual mess of blond curls running in front of her. The cold January wind turned his little cheeks pink.
God, he loved that kid. When his sister had announced she was pregnant nearly six years ago, his narrow-minded, ultra-right-wing conservative mother had nearly had a heart attack. It had been the last straw for her. First her only son had announced he was gay, then her unwed daughter was pregnant. She’d quickly withdrawn from her kids, and when her sister asked her to move to Florida a
