“What about me?” her grandma asked innocently.

Uh-huh. “You can’t interfere with people’s lives like you’ve been doing,” Callie said.

“Why not? It works. And aren’t you essentially doing the same thing?”

“Yes, okay, fine. But at least I get paid for it,” she said.

Lucille beamed. “That’s because you’re smarter than I am. Have I told you lately how very proud I am of you?”

Callie’s frustration drained away. Her parents had always been so wrapped up in each other. She’d long ago gotten used to being a third wheel at her own family dinner table, but she’d always had Lucille who, quirks and all, had never let her down. “I love you, Grandma,” she whispered, and came around the table to squeeze her tight.

“Aw. Aren’t you the sweetest,” her grandma said, hugging her back. She barely came up to Callie’s chin and smelled like roses and baby powder and felt a little bit like a bag of bones, but Callie held on for a long moment.

“I suppose it might be time for me to face facts.”

Callie’s heart stopped. “What facts?”

“I’m losing it.”

Oh God. “Grandma—”

“The desire is just…gone,” Lucille said sadly.

Callie reached for her grandma’s hands. “The important thing is to realize that you’re not alone.”

“Oh, honey, you’re such a joy to me. But I can’t help how I feel. I’m going to—”

“—I’m here for you, to the end.”

“—Retire,” Lucille said, and frowned. “What?”

“Retire?” Callie asked.

Lucille stared at her. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Nothing,” Callie said.

Lucille smiled. “You thought I was telling you I was going nuts, right? That’s a conversation for another day.”

“So you are going nuts?”

“Another day,” Lucille repeated.

“Okay,” Callie said. “But we’re going to definitely discuss, sooner rather than later.”

“So you can go back to San Francisco?”

“Yes,” Callie said. “And my life.”

“Your life.” Lucille rolled her eyes. “Your life is here, with your family—me, in case you were wondering. But I’m talking about retiring from the matchmaking game, not from my sanity.” She pointed at Callie. “Right after I match you.”

“Oh, no,” Callie said. “No. No, no, no.”

“Well, why ever not?”

“I don’t want to be matched,” Callie said. “I’m good as I am. I don’t need a man.”

“Honey, we all need a man. Whether we keep him or not, that’s personal preference.”

“Grandma, seriously,” Callie said. “No matchmaking me, I don’t need or want it. You hear me?”

Lucille was suddenly very busy cleaning up.

“Grandma.”

“Hmm?”

“You heard me, right?”

“Of course, dear. I’m old, not deaf. I can hear you just fine.”

Which wasn’t the same thing as listening, Callie knew.

“You get onto my social media accounts and do your research?” Lucille asked.

Callie went still. “What research?”

“You wanted to know more about Tanner. I left you a bunch of stuff to find. You learn everything you needed?”

Yes. And more. “I’m not interested in him that way,” she said.

Lucille grinned.

“What?” Callie asked.

“You’re pretty good at fibbing. But don’t forget who taught you how. Word is that you’re sitting with him in the mornings at the bakery pretending to drink coffee.”

Oh, for God’s sake. “We sit together so that we’ll be left alone,” Callie said. “Big difference.”

“Honey.” Lucille tsked, all disappointed. “The last thing Tanner needs is to be left alone.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Lucille sighed. “Tanner’s daddy left him when he turned five.”

Yeah. This wasn’t news to Callie. She’d known that back in school.

“And that boy has been wild ever since,” her grandma said. “He’s got his hands full now with the people in his life, but he’s not doing a damn thing for himself. So let me repeat—being alone is not what Tanner needs. What he needs is you.”

Callie stared at her grandma. “Even if that was true, which it’s not, what about what I need?”

“Oh, you need him too, honey.”

“I don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m doing just fine.”

“See now, that’s the beauty of it,” Lucille said. “Of course you don’t need him need him. You support yourself, blah blah. But you’ve been hurt by life too, and let down. Your parents did the best they could, but they could’ve done better by you. You deserved more.”

“I had you,” Callie said, and had the pleasure of seeing her grandma soften and put a hand to her heart.

“Aw, honey,” she said. “I love you so. But truth now. You’ve felt alone and vulnerable. With Tanner, you’d have something you’ve always been sorely missing.”

“What’s that?” Callie asked.