Chapter Twelve #2
Tanner stayed mostly quiet, but not because they left him out.
Cody kept the talk moving between small-town gossip, and the general business of who was doing what.
TJ had apparently broken a chair in the station last week and blamed the bolts.
Dee had told everyone it was because he leaned back too far while reading reports.
Taylor was covering extra shifts and complaining about it.
None of it mattered and that was the point.
It was a normal conversation, and normal conversations were something that had been missing from his life.
Eventually Cody looked at him over the rim of his cup. “How’s the house?”
Tanner shrugged. “Standing.”
“That good, huh?”
“Roof doesn’t leak.”
Cody smiled faintly. “A luxury.”
Tanner looked down at his coffee. “Guess so.”
Orsen asked, “Do you need anything?”
Tanner frowned. “What?”
“For the house.”
Tanner’s first answer was a straight no but then he paused. “I’ve got it covered,” he said instead.
Cody leaned back in his chair. “You know if Savannah needs company, I’m excellent at cartoons and snacks. I have plenty of experience.”
Tanner looked at him. “That doesn’t sound great.”
“It’s a skill set.”
“It’s a threat,” Orsen snorted. “I’ve seen him with the kids.”
Cody ignored him. “Point is, you don’t have to do everything on your own.”
That got Tanner’s back up in spite of everything else. “Yeah, I do.”
Cody’s expression changed, becoming more careful. “Alright. Bad wording.” He put his cup down. “You’ve had to do everything on your own. I get that.”
Tanner stared at him. Somehow he didn’t think Cody got it at all, but he kept quiet.
Cody held his stare and when he spoke, his voice had dropped some of the easy humor. “I’m not trying to take over anything. I’m just saying you don’t have to keep the door shut on everybody forever. There are people here who are willing to help you, if you let them.”
Tanner looked away and looked out of the window. Across the road, the preschool sign stood bright against the fence. He could still hear Laura’s polite voice in his head. Just bring it in when you can.
“People say that,” he muttered. “Then they start asking questions.”
Cody nodded. “Some do.”
“And some report things.”
“Yeah.”
Tanner’s fingers tightened around the mug. “So what’s this?”
“A drink.” Cody spread one hand. “And me trying to make sure you know there are people in this town who remember you as more than just a problem or the kid that disappeared.”
Tanner sucked in a breath. He could still picture this place from years ago in strange, disconnected pieces.
People who looked at him for too long and people who looked away too fast. Cody had been part of that town too.
So had Orsen. So had everybody. But the two men sitting across from him now weren’t acting like they wanted anything from him.
Orsen put his cup down. “You don’t owe us anything.” Tanner looked over. “We asked you for coffee,” Orsen said. “That’s all.”
It should have been simple and maybe it was, but Tanner still didn’t know what to do with it. It all seemed so simple, but simple had disappeared from his life a long time ago.
They talked a little longer after that. Cody mentioned a barbecue at his place that weekend, casual enough that Tanner almost missed the shift until Cody pointed at him with his spoon.
“You should come.”
Tanner blinked. “Why?”
“Because there’ll be food. Savannah can run around the yard. You can leave early if you hate it.”
Tanner gave a short laugh before he could stop it. “That’s a terrible sales pitch.”
“It’s honest.”
Orsen chuckled. “There’ll be food and Cody can cook.”
“Are you trying to sell it to me?”
“You can come and leave if it gets too much.”
Tanner shook his head, then glanced at the clock over the counter. He needed to go and do some jobs before he collected Savannah. He should say no now and make his life easier, but somehow he heard himself say, “Maybe.”
Cody grinned. “That means yes in terrified person. I know all about that.”
“It means maybe.”
“I’ll take it.”
By the time he stood to leave, the awkwardness hadn’t gone away entirely, but it had changed slightly.
He still wanted distance from people he didn’t know.
He still didn’t trust either of them enough to relax around him, but he didn’t feel so guarded either.
Cody paid before Tanner could argue, and Orsen only said, “Pickup’s at noon, right? ” when they stepped outside.
Tanner nodded.
“Then you’ve got time.”
“For what?”
Orsen slid his sunglasses on. “To stop looking like you’re about to run from us.”
Cody laughed. “He’s working on it.”
Tanner muttered something under his breath that made Cody laugh harder, which was irritating enough that it almost covered the fact Tanner didn’t leave immediately.
He stood there for another minute, talking about nothing important, before Cody said, “Pete’s looking for someone to clear junk out of the side yard at his old rental.
Couple of hours’ work if you want it. He’ll pay cash. ”
Tanner looked at him. “I’m not taking a favor.”
“Good,” Cody said. “Because I’m talking about work.”
Orsen added, “You’ll probably need gloves.”
Tanner exhaled heavily. A couple of hours and some money in his pocket sounded better than sitting around thinking. “Fine.”
Savannah ran toward him at pickup with a paper painting clutched in both hands. She was smiling wide enough to show every tooth she had, and Tanner couldn’t help but smile back at her.
“I made this,” she said.
Tanner crouched to take it ignoring the twinge in his back from lifting heavy objects. It had been worth it as he now had thirty dollars. “You did.”
“And I had snack and a story and Mia cried.”
Tanner glanced up in time to see Laura approach with the same polite smile she’d worn that morning.
“She had a good first session,” Laura said. “A little quiet at first, but she settled well.”
“That’s good.”
Laura nodded. “If you can just bring in the guardianship documents when you have them, we’ll finish off the file and get everything properly updated. I’ll send a message so you have a reminder on your phone.”
There it was again. Tanner’s problem.
Tanner kept his face neutral. “Yeah. I’m sorting it out.”
“Perfect.” She smiled at Savannah. “See you next time.”
Tanner took Savannah’s hand and headed home, the paper painting held carefully in his other hand. Yellow swirls. Brown lines. A shape that might have been a house if he looked at it from the right angle. He’d hang it up because Savannah had made it.
Savannah chattered the whole way home. About crayons. About a girl named Mia. About the rabbit crackers at snack time. Tanner answered where he had to and kept his eyes ahead. By the time they reached the house, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Pulling it out he saw the message was from the preschool.
Hi Tanner. When you get a chance, could you bring in the guardianship documents for Savannah’s file? Thank you.
He stood outside the front door then locked the phone without replying, put it back in his pocket, and opened the door.