Status: closed @milliestanley
Location: Millie’s home, Southside
That’s the funny thing about growing up. People who were once figures of authority turn into friends. No more formalities, just folks who can catch up over wine and snacks. That’s the intent now as Casey turns off her car in the driveway with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc buckled in and secured in the passenger seat. It’s a little tradition now, spending time with Millie in her Southside home. She fits right into Casey’s roster of her favorite people to check in on when she can. Tate. Tate’s mother. Her own mom. Her dad. Nora, amongst others. But it’s Ms. Stanley’s turn, excitement pulling a smile to her face as she grabs the wine and the homemade rosemary focaccia it shares a seat with. She’s always loved Millie, loved her just like loves her parents and not just because Casey’s best friends with and helplessly in love with the older woman’s son. No, spending time with Millie has always been nice, even when the sheriff’s daughter was just a kid. Locking the car behind her as she treks up to the door, she’s plagued with a wishful hope that Millie likes what she’s whipped up. It’s sort of a new hobby for her, baking things and pairing it with the right wines. Maneuvering her way to a free hand, Casey rings the doorbell and wears her typical, soft smile.
