Chapter 2 #3
Savannah gasps again. “Daddy! Please!”
“Maybe,” I say, but really, I’ll make them anyway just to make them both happy.
I pull into the drive-through for Tom’s Diner and order them both dark cherry slushies, not even having to ask Lee his order after all these years and knowing that Savannah will just want the same thing as Lee.
I get a blue raspberry slushy for myself.
Once we’re back on the road, everyone is quiet as they sip their slushies, and when I pull up back at the house, Lee helps Savannah out of the car and grabs her backpack for her.
My heart trembles at the sight of them holding hands and heading inside, no doubt getting ready to head into the backyard to play in the dirt.
“Can I come see the goats this weekend?” Savannah asks before taking a loud sip of her slushy. “I think they miss me.”
I rest my hand on her head. “We’ll have to see if I can do a trade with Mommy so that you can spend Saturday with me.”
“It’s okay. She has a boyfriend, so she won’t mind.”
Well, that’s news. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, he sleeps at the house now.”
“What?”
We have rules for a reason. We aren’t even supposed to introduce prospective partners without discussing it with one another.
Danica moved a man into the house and didn’t tell me?
Fuck. Lee gives me a look that clearly says don’t flip out because it’s not good for Savannah.
So I grit my teeth and stay as calm as I can.
I watch them head out back with my stomach full of Godzilla-sized butterflies.
I’m going to have to call Danica and I don’t want to.
Today isn’t the time. I have Savannah here with me and Lee is playing with her in the backyard while I get ready to do a fry-up. I’ll focus on what’s important for now.
The window in my small kitchen overlooks the tiny backyard, so I’m able to watch them play as I prepare the cookies for dessert.
The key to fluffy cookies is baking them on low heat and taking them out before they’re done, letting them continue to cook on the baking sheet for a few minutes out of the oven.
I make them big and round, just the way the two of them love them.
The kitchen fills with the scent of chocolate and vanilla as the cookies bake.
I lean against the counter, heart thumping wildly in my chest as I watch Lee play soup fairies outside with Savannah.
Her curls blow in the wind, obscuring her face from me, but I can see the joy and laugh reflected so heavily on Lee’s face.
He’s using a stick to stir mud in the ground with her as she adds leaves and no doubt invokes ancient spirits to protect the house from werewolves.
And Lee indulges every minute of her playing, never rushes her or chides her, just encourages her blooming imagination.
Sometimes I hope… I wish… No, sometimes I wonder if a small part of her belongs to him in the way a small part of her belongs to me.
The cookies are cooling on the counter and the fish is popping in oil when they finally come inside.
“Wash your hands and put on some new clothes, okay?” Lee tells Savannah, his tone not much different than if he was speaking to a very small princess.
Savannah nods dutifully and skips toward her room; she listens to Lee in a way she never listens to me.
That’s uncle magic, I guess. He wanders toward me in the kitchen, all sheepish smiles and somehow still smelling like the river and dirt, a scent that somehow works perfectly for him.
His beard is a little longer these days, and I kind of miss when it was a five-o’clock shadow and a full mustache.
He looked very devil may care during that era.
But with Savannah gone, I have bigger fish to fry. No pun intended, obviously.
“So?”
Lee sighs like the entire world is on his shoulders. “He punched me real good when I picked him up from the bar the other night. It’s not broken, it’s fine.”
It takes every effort to keep my face neutral. “Did you ice it?”
Lee rolls his eyes. “Yes, I iced it. It’ll be fine in a few days.”
“And your dad?”
Lee’s answering shrug is tired. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since. Probably won’t hear from him unless he needs groceries or a bartender calls me to come collect his ass again.”
“Lee… maybe it’s time—”
“Don’t,” Lee interrupts, jaw suddenly made of steel. “I don’t want to have this argument tonight.”
He moves around in the kitchen to grab a Coke from the fridge, opens it, and takes a long sip.
I reach out to take it from him, taking a sip myself, then hand it back.
Lee’s hand is tight on the can, jaw tight as it was earlier, and I want to ask him why, but I don’t.
I just focus on frying the fish, knowing that Lee will speak up when he’s ready.
“You shouldn’t say anything to Danica yet. Not when you’re mad. You need a while when you’re angry to think it through or your words will come out all jumbled and mean.”
“I am mad,” I point out as I flip the fish that’s almost done.
“I know, but this is your ex-wife, and you have almost twelve more years left dealing with her.”
I hum because I see his point, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to tell her off for the stupid shit she’s pulling.
Lee runs his hand down my back in that familiar comforting way he often does, because even though I’m the touchy-feely one in the friendship, he’s learned over the years that showing physical affection to me is safe and one of my love languages.
“How’s Sophie?” Lee asks. He’s always had a soft spot for my younger sister.
“On a yacht somewhere in the Mediterranean.”
Lee chuckles. “Sounds about right. She’ll find her way. And the parents?”