Page 39 of Covert Operation
“Someone should.” Brock looks me up and down. “He’s sure as shit not spending it on clothes.”
“What in the hell does he need clothes for?” Wade’s grin softens the blow of his next words. “He’s always working.”
I don’t know why the comment bothers me the way it does. I’ve heard a million just like it and never once did it faze me. “I won’t be giving any of you my money tonight.” I say it harsher than I mean to and it has the men around me shifting on their feet. I reach to grab another beer, popping off the cap and chucking it in the trash. “I’m not a card player.” I tip back a little of the drink. “I’m more of a hang out with the kids type.”
I walk away, finally giving in and going exactly where I wanted to be all night. Like she said she would be, Savannah’s parked on the sofa with all the kids, playing games and watching movies and having way more fun than everyone else.
I point to the empty spot beside her. “This seat taken?”
She gives me a smirk. “I was actually saving it for you.” Her gaze drifts to the group I left behind. “You looked like you were having such a good time over there with the grown-ups.”
I sit down beside her, relaxing for the first time tonight. “Grown-ups are boring.” It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a party like this, but in the days when it used to happen, this was where I always ended up. Kids are easy. They don’t give a shit who you are. What you’ve done. As long as you let them beat you at Monopoly and listen to them talk about video games, you’ll be their new best friend.
So that’s what I do. The rest of the night, Savannah and I entertain everyone else’s kids while they play poker and socialize.
And I have more fun than I’ve had in as long as I can remember. I eat another plateful of meatballs, along with my body weight in brownies and cookies, sharing the latter with everyone else while we discuss the merits ofLilo and Stitchand argue over the rules for Chutes and Ladders.
By the time the evening winds down, my stomach is full and my soul is light.
Savannah collects our coats from the closet, and I help her into hers before ushering her out the front door, keeping her latched to my arm as we descend the stairs.
When we reach the sidewalk she turns to me, rubbing her lips together. Her eyes dart to Sadie and Jamison’s door as she asks, “Do you want to come see what I accomplished today?”
I know she’s worried about her sister seeing us together, so I answer quickly. “Yes, I do.” It’s an easy decision. I’m not quite ready to give this evening up yet. I want to milk it for all I can.
Moving quickly, we hustle to her house, managing to get in the front door just as someone exits her sister’s.
Savannah turns to me as she closes the door, cheeks pink from the cold. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you.”
“I know that.” Never once did I think Savannah was hiding me. “Sometimes life is just easier when you don’t have to answer questions.”
Her shoulders drop as a loud sigh rushes free. “Exactly.” Savannah’s shoulders slump a little more. “Especially when people don’t like the answers you give them.”
I can help her with many things, but the relationship she has with her sister isn’t one of them. I’ve had one meaningful relationship in my life and it nearly broke me. My ability to offer any sort of advice in this situation is nonexistent. But I can’t stand not being able to help her, so I say, “Sometimes people don’t know how to act around you after you’ve gone through something like you have.” I stick to very general observations. Ones I have firsthand knowledge of. “It can make them feel nervous and uncomfortable and helpless. People don’t like feeling that way, so they figure out how to get around it.”
Frequently, the direction they take is to try to fix it. To pretend they have some sort of control over what’s happened to you and the emotions it’s brought out in them. They don’t, and all they end up doing is making you shut down.
Savannah’s mouth curves into a barely there smile. “I know. No one has really known how to act around me since I was rescued.” All trace of the earlier smile leaves her face. “Maybe that’s why I don’t really feel at home here. I can never get comfortable because of the way people look at me.”
Again, I understand what she’s saying. Completely and totally. And again, I have no advice, because my solution may not be the best solution for her.
The hint of a smile she had earlier returns, but this time it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I guess that makes it extra good I spent most of the day working here. Hopefully at some point I’ll feel like this is my home.”
“I hope so. You deserve to feel comfortable and safe.”
The warmth of her smile spreads, lighting her eyes. “Thank you.” She reaches out, taking my hand in hers and tugging me toward the stairs. “Come see what I did.” She peeks my way. “I’m sure you have other things to do, and I don’t want to take up your whole evening.”
I should let her assumptions be what they are, but Savannah is always so open with me, and apparently it makes me want to be open with her. “I don’t have any plans.” I pause because I know I should stop, but then I say, “Ever.”
Savannah’s small hand tightens around mine and she looks my way again. “I know the feeling.”
We reach the top of the steps, and she brings me into the spare bedroom. I’m shocked to find it finished. The bed we brought up last night is now covered in a feminine floral blanket and has a pile of unique but coordinating pillows stacked at the top. The stained glass lamp we moved first sits on the nightstand, bathing the room in a soft glow. The dresser is now polished and sports a flat screen television and a neat row of scented candles on a tray. The air smells sweet and soft, and I think this might be the most inviting room I’ve ever seen.
“It looks great.” I step in a little more, so I can see the rest of the space.
An upholstered chair and matching ottoman are angled into the corner, a fluffy blanket folded and artfully draped across the back. Another collection of pillows is tucked against the arm, adding an additional layer of softness.
That’s what it is about this room. It’s soft. Warm and sweet. So different from anywhere I’ve ever lived.