Free A Reason to Stay by Kellie Coates Gilbert

and pulled her across the deck.
    â€œHey, everybody,” he shouted across the crowd. “This is my friend Faith. Y’all might’ve seen her earlier in the week on the news. That big story about the kid on the bridge.”
    A buxom woman with dark auburn hair and wearing red canvas shoes and jeans slid a glass pitcher of sweet tea onto a long table covered in brown paper. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rushed over, arms extended.
    â€œSo, you’re Faith.” The woman hugged her. “I’m Geary’s mother. Welcome to our little party.” She waved over a man standing with a hose in his hand, running water into a huge white cooler. He passed off the hose to a guy standing next to him.
    After wiping his hands on his camouflage printed apron, heextended his palm for a handshake. “Welcome to the annual Marin Family Crawfish Feed. We’re all so happy you agreed to join us.”
    Geary’s father eerily resembled the actor Craig T. Nelson. He even raised his eyebrows slightly when talking. “I’m Geary’s dad.”
    Faith took his hand. “So nice to meet you, Mr. Marin.”
    â€œNope. Not Mr. Marin—I go by Dad, Grandpa, honey, or Wendell. Take your pick.” He placed his arm around Geary’s mother. “And this here is Veta, my pretty bride.”
    Beaming, Geary’s mother gave his shoulder a playful slap. “Oh, you! You’d best get over and get some more pots going.” She turned to Faith. “And he’s right, no one calls us Mr. and Mrs. around here.”
    Mrs. Marin—er, Veta—took Faith’s arm and guided her across the lawn, with Geary following close behind. “Dilly!” She waved over a pretty young woman with long red hair. “Dilly, this is Geary’s new friend. We watched Faith on television earlier this week, remember?”
    The woman hoisted a toddler onto her hip. “You bet I remember. Hi—I’m Geary’s sister.”
    â€œYounger by twenty-four months,” his mom added. “And this one”—she chucked the little boy’s chin—“this is Sam.”
    The tiny brown-haired guy plugged his mouth with his thumb and nestled against his mother’s chest, looking back at Faith with reservation. “He’s shy,” Dilly explained, then pointed across the lawn to two slightly older children, a boy and a girl. One was chasing the other, holding what must be a crawdad. “Those are the twins, Gunner and Gabby—short for Gabrielle. They just turned five last week.”
    A short guy stepped up next to Dilly. “Hey there. I’m Bobby Lee.” He shook Faith’s hand. “I’m the ringleader of the Sitterle family circus.” His dark brown hair had that uncombed look and he sported some serious stubble. He wore an AmWest Drilling T-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops—one with the toe piece taped. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his warm smile overriding the impression his appearance made.
    For the next half hour, Geary introduced her to guests. Often his mother would be within earshot and add, “She’s the news reporter girl he’s seeing. You know, the one I told you about.”
    There were nods then, and murmurs of admiration for how she’d handled the bridge incident. “You saved that Hildebrand kid, you know,” one woman claimed. “We were all praying as we watched on television.”
    The proud smile on Geary’s face made her feel warm inside, especially after that initial reporting fiasco he’d seen on the boat. She had done a good job on the bridge piece. The public had noticed and her journalistic career would benefit.
    Geary took her elbow. “C’mon. Let’s go supervise Dad. He’s about ready to add the crawfish to the pots.”
    She’d never eaten a crawfish before, which would surprise some, given she’d been born and raised about an