For years, I’d imagined returning to Toccoa.
Sometimes I pictured Jace apologizing.
Sometimes Mom admitting she’d been wrong.
Other times I imagined simply driving through town without stopping.
But I hadn’t expected a seafood dinner.
I looked toward my wife.
“I want to want to.”
She nodded slowly.
Then suggested something practical.
“Go in first. Talk to them. See whether they genuinely want to make things right.”
I looked toward her.
“And you?”
She smiled faintly.
“I’ll wait nearby. If they’re decent to you, I’ll come in, and we’ll have dinner with your family.”
She paused.
“If they’re not, I’ll come get you after twenty minutes.”
I considered the plan.
Then nodded.
We weren’t trying to humiliate anyone.
We simply wanted to understand whether my family was interested in the people we’d become or only in the version of me they’d spent years discussing.
The following Saturday, we drove to North Georgia.
We left Theo with Mallerie’s cousin Leanne near Clayton.
He was delighted because Leanne had a golden retriever and a refrigerator full of juice boxes.
Mallerie drove me to Captain Nell’s.
She parked across the street beside an old tire shop.
Then looked toward me.
“Twenty minutes.”
I nodded.
“Twenty minutes.”
She reached across the console.
“Whatever happens in there, Corey, remember that we have a good life to go home to.”
I squeezed her hand.
Then walked into the restaurant.
The hostess directed me toward a private dining area near the back.
Sixteen relatives were already seated.
Mom at one end.
Jace at the other.
Aunt Bonnie.
Uncle Roger.
Cousin Dewey and his wife.
Several other relatives I barely recognized.
Jill sat beside Spencer.
There was one empty chair along the side.
Nobody had waited to order.
The table was crowded with seafood towers, fried oysters, shrimp, crab legs, and expensive drinks.
I stopped near the bar and ordered an iced tea.
I paid for it immediately.
Then I walked toward the table.
Aunt Bonnie noticed me first.
“Corey?”
I smiled.
“Hi, Aunt Bonnie.”
She looked me over.
“Well, look at you. You’re thinner.”
I laughed.
“Working outdoors will do that.”
She nodded.
“Are you eating properly?”
“Every day.”
A few relatives smiled.
Mom remained seated.
She waved one hand toward the empty chair.
“Come sit, honey.”
I sat.
Jill reached across Spencer and squeezed my hand.
Her eyes were bright.
For a moment, I felt glad I’d come.
Then Jace began talking.
“Well, look who’s back.”
I looked toward him.
“Hello, Jace.”
He leaned back.
His shirt was neatly pressed.
A large watch rested on his wrist.
He’d apparently been working at a used-car dealership in the next county.
He spoke loudly about his sales numbers.
How many vehicles he’d sold.
How much commission he’d earned.
How he’d become one of the dealership’s best salesmen.
I listened politely.
Then Aunt Bonnie asked about my work.
Before I could answer, Jace laughed.
“Still playing around in concrete, little brother?”
A few cousins smiled.
I nodded.
“Every day.”
He grinned.
“Some things never change.”
Dewey leaned toward me.
“You still living behind somebody’s shop?”
I took a sip of tea.
“No.”
He waited for more.
I didn’t offer any.
The questions continued.
Had I ever settled down?
Was I earning enough?
Did I need help finding a better job?
One cousin mentioned a warehouse that was hiring.
I thanked him.
Jace laughed.
“See? We’re looking out for you.”
For a moment, I looked toward Mom.
She was smiling faintly.
She hadn’t asked whether I was married.
Hadn’t asked where I lived.
Hadn’t asked what the last decade had been like.
She seemed content to let the conversation continue exactly as it had when we were teenagers.
Jace spoke.
Everybody laughed.
I stayed quiet.
I checked my watch.
Seven minutes.
Then twelve.
A waitress named Darby approached to take another order.
She looked tired but professional.
Jace waved toward me.
“Put his meal with ours. He’s paying.”
I looked up.
“No, thank you. I’ve already had my tea.”
Darby looked toward me.
I smiled.
“I’m not ordering dinner.”
She nodded politely.
Then moved on.
Jace leaned back.
“Suit yourself.”
Mom finally raised one hand.
“Corey, sweetheart, I want you to know I’m glad you came.”
I looked toward her.
“Thank you, Mom.”
She smiled.
“This is what families are supposed to do. Make amends.”
I nodded.
Then she slid a menu across the tablecloth toward me.
“And since you’re the one who left, I think it’s only fair that you make the first gesture.”
I looked at the menu.
Then toward the enormous platters scattered across the table.
Mom smiled.
“You’re paying.”
For several seconds, I stared.
Sixteen people.
A meal that would easily cost several thousand dollars.
And not one of them had asked whether I wanted to contribute.
Mom had invited me to make amends.
But the first thing she wanted was my credit card.
I set down my glass.
Then looked toward her.
“I already paid for Jace’s lie, Mom. Tonight he can take responsibility for it.”
The table went quiet.
Dewey leaned toward his wife.
“What’s he talking about?”
Jace laughed.
“Still carrying that old grudge?”
I looked toward him.
“No. I just remember what happened.”
He grinned.
“Come on, Corey. That was ten years ago.”
Mom sighed.
“Don’t start another argument.”
I looked toward her.
For a moment, I heard the same words she’d used at Uncle Roger’s bonfire.
Don’t tear this family apart.
Don’t make a scene.
Let it go.
I took a breath.
“Mom, I came because you said you wanted to make amends.”
She nodded.