I fell asleep with her heart pressed against mine.

I awoke with her calling my name in a panic.

My eyes barely opened. "What's wrong, Peach?"

She stood next to the bed wrapped in my robe. "There's blood."

My body perked up, but then I sighed heavily. "It was your first time."

"I know how it works," she scoffed. "But how do I know it's only that?"

I looked up at her as I rolled to my side. "You think I impaled a major organ or something?" I lifted her robe but she smacked my hand away. "Are you still bleeding, Topolina?"

"No."

"Then you're fine. And no longer a virgin. Come back to bed."

"But how do you know I'm fine?" She insisted.

"A piece of paper was once given to me certifying that I am allowed to have an opinion that carries weight when it comes to matters of human health." Didn't like that answer. "And I love you and would never impale your major organs with my major organ."

Her face soured. "Where's the romantic man who left me 'rubies' on the beach earlier? I want his opinion."

I reached for her. "Come to me." She let me spoon her against me under the covers, where I kissed her bare shoulder and held her tight. "I'm not here to freak out about every little thing that happens to you. If you wanted that life you would have stayed with your dad. I'm not worried because I'm being logical, not because I don't love you, or worry about you. But I refuse to make you fear love. And I doubly refuse to enforce the paranoia your dad instilled into your mind."

"I'm not paranoid," she whispered.

I smiled against her shoulder. "You are a little bit."

"How would you feel if you were me and saw blood but couldn't feel an injury? You wouldn't be scared?"

"Are you scared?" I brushed her aside and kissed her spine. "Is that why you're upset with me?"

"I'm . . ." she rolled over to look at me. "I only know one life."

"I don't believe that. You know why?" She shook her head no. "Because Marta told me about your little biscuit making adventure, and how you were able to cook without hurting yourself. So I started thinking about that, and wondered what else you had dreamed about doing but never had the chance." I traced her forehead with my finger. "Inside of here, Everly Anne, you have lived a completely different life than what others have ever seen, haven't you? Your made up world where a mother is a book of lessons, and kind gestures live inside of mundane, black and white moments where some people only see coffee and tokens. The gospel you feel outside of church because to you, everything is a blessing. Right?"

She smiled from her eyes. "There he is."

I kissed her. "He has something else for you, too."

I found my jeans on the floor and dug out my wallet, pulling out an article clipping Pearl had given me. Back in bed, I handed it to Everly.

"Happy birthday, Topolina."

I slid closer as she unfolded the paper, one leg wrapped around her as I leaned my lips to her bare shoulder. We shared a kiss before she began to read. "I love you," I whispered across her lips, and then tucked a single kiss behind her ear. "Thank you for staying strong for me."

She rested against me as she examined the article in her hands. I drew my fingers down the picture until I found a woman with familiar blonde hair and a noticeable bump.

"That was you." I kissed the back of her head. "That's how you looked with your mother-Merriam Brighton, from Webster Georgia."

She was silent save for her breath exhaling in disbelief. I let her read the article.

The headline read:

GEORGIA PEACH SOCIETY GIVES SWEET THINGS FOR THOSE IN NEED.

"See," I said softly, "you've always been a peach."

She kept her eyes on the article. "How did you find this?"

"I've made a few friends in Red Pine."

"I look like her," Everly marveled, "I really do look like her." Her thumb blotted over Timothy's face as he stood next to his pregnant wife. "No wonder."