18. Chapter Eighteen | Savannah
Chapter eighteen
“And then what happened?” Olivia asks my brother Finn, hanging on his every word as he tells the infamous big fib story of my life around the dinner table at Daddy’s.
“Your mother insisted she broke her ankle while running down the stairs.” Finn smirks at me as he bares my secrets to our father—and my very own children.
“Listen, you aren’t getting the full story.
I knew that if the truth came out, then whichever brother was actually the brains behind the operation would be grounded, and I figured I was already in trouble, and I was already in a cast, so I took one for the team.
” I point to myself with my thumb before pointing an accusatory finger to my siblings.
“And I don’t appreciate the lack of loyalty now! ”
“I wasn’t even home when it happened!” Ryan insists.
“How did you really fall on the stairs then?” Olivia turns her attention to me.
“Well, I kind of tripped. But I was using a large suitcase as a sled down the stairs and the whole thing tipped, and I went tumbling down the rest of the way. I landed wrong and ended up spending part of that summer vacation in a cast, which was a real pain when I wanted to go swimming with my friends.”
“Do you know how many times we were told not to run on the stairs or we would break an ankle?” Vivian shakes her head as she laughs, apparently joining the coup against her dear sister.
“Now hold on, who was the actual master mind behind this if you didn’t accidentally trip while running down the stairs? Who were you covering for?” Daddy’s eyes dance with amusement but he also wants to know the truth after all these years.
Ryan, Finn, Vivian, and I all look at each other before we respond in unison, “Liam.”
“Of course!” Daddy is not at all surprised that Liam was the one who was trying to recreate the famous movie scene, but instead of using a wooden sled, he had us using a large suitcase.
Liam was convinced there was a skill behind how to steer it to avoid the wall, but I quickly proved it required zero effort to wipe out and end up injured.
“Statute of limitations, Daddy! You asked for the truth, and now you have to be okay with knowing it,” I tell him, trying not to laugh as he rolls his eyes at me.
“Did Nana get mad at you?” Emily inquires.
“Not really mad, that wasn’t how Nana operated. To be honest, I think she knew my story was a big ol’ fib, but she also knew I was bummed about it effecting my summer vacation, so she didn’t push it.”
“She absolutely knew you were covering for one of your brothers; we just weren’t sure who was the culprit because other than Ryan, the other three were all home at the time.”
I sheepishly shrug. “Sorry, Daddy. I promise that’s the worst lie I told y’all growing up!”
I don’t know what prompted telling a few true stories from our childhood, but over the years, some truths have come to light, much to our father’s disappointment.
We all claim statute of limitations though, and Daddy insists he finds these stories entertaining more than anything.
I’m sure Mama would have been a little disappointed, but she would have laughed at us even more than Daddy.
It’s been five years since Mama passed, and I still wish I had more years with her … it was never going to be enough time.
I’m not at that stage in parenting where my kids are my friends yet, but I look forward to the day when they can come to me as a friend and share their lives with me.
Not only because I’m their mama, but because I will always have their back and be their number one cheerleader.
I’m still in the stage of being the rule keeper and making sure my girls grow up with a good head on their shoulders and a strong sense of who they are before the world tries to convince them otherwise.
Dinner at Daddy’s always leave a smile on my face and there are some weeks that I think everyone there needed it for one reason or another.
Ryan lives about a mile north of the house where we all grew up, so occasionally, he hosts our weekly dinners, but there’s still this inexplicable level of feeling like I’m home when I walk through the door here.
Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because I can still feel Mama so strongly here, and while I love my house, there is a piece of my heart that will always think of home as my parents’ house.
We get back to our home and my three girls all head up to take showers before we pile into my bed for a movie.
We started doing movie snuggles in the last year, even before Shane left, and now they’re the ones that request them even more often than I do.
Olivia made tonight’s request on the way home, and she rarely does that, so I know she needs it for whatever reason.
I head up the stairs to put away a basket of laundry while the girls shower, but as soon as I flip on the lights to my bedroom, my feet are frozen in place.
I always make my bed as part of my morning routine, and while the bed still looks like it did when I left my room this morning, I know I had nothing to do with the addition to it.
Lying across one of the pillows on my side of the bed is a single, long-stemmed lavender rose.
The apology flowers Shane sent me a few weeks ago have died and were thrown out, so there’s no reason this fresh flower should be in my house, let alone placed anywhere near my bed.
The chill starts in my spine but scatters across my entire body as I am rooted to the spot.
How did that flower get in here? What the hell is Shane’s angle here? Who leaves a single rose on someone’s pillow when they haven’t been around the house in months ?
My shock is quickly replaced with anger.
I’m pissed that Shane thinks he can mess with me like this.
Is this some kind of lame-ass apology attempt for being an asshole the other day?
Whatever his intended message was, all I see is red.
I drop the laundry basket on the floor and pull my phone out of my back pocket.
Me
What exactly is it that you’re trying to achieve here?
Shane
With… what? An amicable ending to our marriage so we can both be free?
Me
Your games are not funny, knock it off.
Shane
You’re the one that wanted to play, and throwing my offer in the fire was quite the dramatic touch so tit for tat, Savannah. And we both know that you having Theo Smith-Harrington represent you is yet again another game, so you’re one to talk.
Me
You don’t make sense. Stop messing with me, Shane. I don’t want your bullshit apologies, and I don’t believe them—or you for that matter. When did you change from the man I married to the asshole you are today?
Shane
The only one that’s dragging out the bullshit in this divorce would be you, Savannah. I tried to be fair and get us through this as quickly as possible, but you wanted to play games.
Me
That’s different! If you were fair in the beginning, we wouldn’t be in this situation. You drove this to the cliff; you just didn’t expect me to be brave enough to jump off to get away from you.
Shane
Same thing. Maybe next time don’t be so quick to burn everything down in a tantrum.
Ugh. The man is impossible to even talk to these days; I give up trying to reason with him. I snatch the flower off the pillow and snap it in half, feeling slightly vindicated as I head down to throw it away in the garbage out in the garage before the girls can see it.
Shutting the door with my hip, I try to leave Shane and his bullshit in the garage with the flower, at least for the night.
“Five minutes girls, I’ll bring up the popcorn and M&Ms. Either have the movie picked out or narrowed down to three choices before I get up there!
” The girls cheer at my announcement because I don’t usually let them have M&Ms this late in the evening, but sometimes a girl needs some chocolate, especially when their asshole ex pisses them off.