Chapter 5 #2
“Maybe that’s what I should do; grab a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and call it dinner.”
I glance into the freezer she’d been standing in front of, filled with frozen meals.
“Couldn’t be any worse than this stuff,” I volunteer. “Do you know the crap they put into these?”
“Oh, come on, those meals are better than the take-out food I’ve been scarfing down all weekend, and right now I’m too exhausted to cook,” she shares, a tired smile on her face. “Besides, I seem to recall you could wolf down a Hungry-Man Salisbury steak like nobody’s business.”
I grin at the memory. She’s right. I didn’t cook back then and existed on pizza and TV dinners.
“What can I say? I’ve changed. Improved, even.”
She gives me a smirk and a sideways glance. “Have you now?”
Jesus, I’m standing in the fucking freezer aisle of the Safeway in Silence, flirting with fucking Savannah Colter. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson, but apparently not.
Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “I can prove it to you. Come over for dinner. Nothing fancy, but honest food. I’m heading straight home because Tate’s waiting, but you can follow me. I’ve got a couple of big steaks that’ll feed three easily. Hell, I’ll even supply the ice cream.”
I fully expect to be blown off when I see the shadow slide over Savvy’s face. But she surprises me.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
Fuck, no, I’m not sure at all. In fact, I have a feeling I may be making a huge mistake, but that doesn’t stop me from leading the way down the aisle, grabbing a massive tub of ice cream, and heading for the checkout lane.
Tatum’s eyes widen when I walk in the door with Savvy in tow.
“Sheriff Colter is having dinner with us,” I announce.
“O-kay?”
“Call me Savvy, please,” Savannah suggests, taking off her baseball cap and running a hand through those lush curls.
“Tate, can you grab Savvy a drink? I’m gonna fire up the grill.”
I leave them both standing in the kitchen and step out on the deck. The chill hits me and I suppress a shudder. The days are still comfortably warm but are getting shorter, and as soon as the sun starts slipping behind the mountains, the evenings cool off fast.
I’m seriously questioning my knee-jerk decision as I turn on the propane and ignite the flame. Through the window I can see Tatum pulling a beer from the fridge and setting it in front of Savvy, who easily twists off the top.
I can’t recall her being a beer drinker, I remember she used to like those sweet premixed cocktail drinks, but apparently her tastes have changed as well.
I deadhead the begonias in the planter the real estate agent dropped off to welcome us to the new house. I’m stalling to avoid going back in there right away. It looks like they’re talking, and although I can’t hear what they’re saying, it looks amicable enough.
I watch as Tate pulls a bowl from the cupboard and hands it to Savvy, who throws together the kale salad while my girl sets the table.
I’m surprised, we don’t usually eat at the table but in front of the TV.
It makes me wonder if Tate and I have genuinely turned a corner at some point during the past few days.
Maybe I don’t suck at this parenting thing as badly as I thought I did.
“Dad, do you need the steaks out there?” Tate calls from the open sliding door.
“Thanks, but I’ll come grab them. I need to season them first,” I respond as I approach her. Deciding to capitalize on the positive vibes she gives off, I kiss the top of her head as I slip by.
As I liberally grind black pepper and sprinkle sea salt over the meat, I listen with half an ear to a discussion about hair products between my daughter and Savvy.
Tate is more animated than I’ve heard her in months.
The topic is definitely way the hell out of my scope, since the only thing I do with my hair is buzz it as short as I can every couple of weeks. I do it myself.
All through dinner Tate is carrying the conversation, peppering Savvy with questions about the best place to find cool clothes, and whether or not Silence has a library because she doesn’t like the books they have at the school one.
That launches a discussion about favorite books and authors, something I also know little about because the only thing I read is the newspaper, trade magazines, or the occasional biography.
I end up being an observer at my own table, and I don’t mind it one bit. The only thing I’m required to contribute is an occasional grunt when someone looks at me for an acknowledgement or confirmation.
“Sorry if we left you out of the conversation,” Savvy notes when I walk her to the door after dinner.
“No need. I was glad to see Tate come out of her shell.”
When Savvy stops in the open door and smiles up at me, I resist tugging at one of her curls, which is stuck to her lip.
“It’s tough, losing your mother. I was older, but I lost my mother at a very vulnerable time in my life and I struggled for a while.”
As far as I know, her mother had been alive when I left.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shakes her head and waves it off. “Long time ago. Anyway, I enjoyed talking to your daughter, she’s a sweet girl and it was just what I needed after the day I’ve had.”
“Bad?”
She glances over her shoulder at the dark street before answering.
“Let’s just say, it’s not one I’d care to repeat. Except,” she adds quickly, turning back to me, “for that dinner. It was delicious. Thank you for that.”
“Hey, I couldn’t in good conscience let you eat a frozen tray of artificial food for dinner.”
I take a small step closer before I continue, “And if you are serious about a repeat, I would love to cook for you again.”
She lifts her hand, touching a few fingers to the center of my chest before thinking better of it. Her cheeks stain a deep blush as she looks up at me, but the next moment she turns around and walks toward the cruiser, parked along the curb.
I’m not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.