Dirk was puttering around in the kitchen with his mom, helping her get the food supplies ready for their trip back home. And Savannah felt bad about that. Her upbringing dictated that she, the hostess, should be performing that chore.
But when she’d heard that they were washing disposable dishes and folding the used paper towels they’d hung up to dry the night before out on the back porch, her psyche had rebelled.
So she sat in the living room, sipping coffee, and visiting with Richard, who was sitting in Dirk’s usual spot on the sofa. He even had Cleo in his lap and was giving her a behind-the-ear rub.
“I’d say the visit went pretty well overall,” he said, dropping his voice a bit and stealing a glance toward the kitchen. “I know Dora’s a little chatty for some people’s taste. Hope she didn’t get on your nerves too bad.”
“Not at all,” Savannah said, resisting the urge to cross her fingers behind her back.
“My wife’s a really good person,” he said, still keeping his voice low. “She had it really hard when she was a kid, and some things you just never get over.”
Savannah knew about “some things.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“Her mom gave her away when she was just eight years old. Dumped her on their elderly neighbors’ doorstep and took off with some guy. Dora took care of those old people, mean as they were. She did everything in that house. Waited on them hand and foot, like a slave. The state even gave them custody of her. She called them ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, though they weren’t.”
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
“They never talked to her or allowed her to talk. That’s why she’s so chatty now. It’s like she never got over the joy of being able to talk as much as she wants.”
Savannah looked at Richard and saw into his soul. She saw the love and respect he had for his wife, and she understood why he tolerated her prattling with so much grace.
“They were poor, too,” he said. “Always drilled it into her to save this and not waste that.”
Ah, Savannah thought, the mystery of the dried, reused paper towels solved.
“We met at a school dance,” he continued, “and it was love at first sight. We had to sneak around to see each other, because they didn’t approve. And when they found out—you know, about Dirk—they threw a fit. They didn’t want her taking care of a baby. They wanted her just taking care of them. So as soon as he was born, they took him away from her. They told us that they’d found a good home for him with a nice couple. They told us to forget about him.”
Richard paused, and Savannah’s heart went out to him as she watched him struggle with his emotions.
“I never even got to see him. We did get to name him, though. I was called Dick back then, so we put Dick and Dora together and named him Dirk.”
Savannah bit her lower lip and nodded. “That’s sweet. I know he’s a little conflicted about his last name. He did get adopted by a guy named Coulter, and he’s been Coulter most of his life. It’d be hard for him to change it now. ”
“Oh, I understand completely. I don’t expect him to change his name. There are enough Joneses in the world already.” Richard gave her a searching look. “Is that why you’re keeping your last name?”
She nodded. “Reid was my grandfather’s name. He was a fine man, and I loved him very much. And Savannah Reid is who I’ve been my whole life.”
They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to Dirk and his mother chatter in the kitchen. Once in a while they laughed, and the sound of it went through Savannah, directly to her heart.
She thought of all Richard had said about Dora. She recalled how Dora had crawled into the wrecked Buick and helped them save Tammy.
No, Dora wasn’t so bad, after all.
Finally, Richard said, “Your grandfather was a good man, and you were close to him. How about your dad?”
“No. Unfortunately not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. I’m all right with it.” She shrugged. “Might as well be, huh?”
“True.”
He hesitated, and she wondered what he was going to say next. He seemed to be having difficulty getting it out.
“If you want,” he said at last, “and only if you feel comfortable with it . . . you can call me ‘Dad.’ I know I could never take the place of a real father for you, but I’d sure like it if you could maybe think of me that way. Once in a while. ’Cause I’d sure be proud to have you as a daughter.”
Savannah looked down and noticed that tears were dripping onto Diamante’s head. But Di didn’t seem to mind, so neither did she.
“I’d like that,” she said in a wee, soft voice that sounded like that of a seven-year-old girl. A little girl in a dirty, tattered dress and uncombed hair, who lived with a negligent mother and a passel of siblings, without their absentee father, in a wide spot in the road called McGill, Georgia. “I’d like that a lot . . . Dad.”
An hour later, Dora, Richard, and Mickey were pulling out of the driveway, their Jeep filled with the food goodies Savannah had prepared for them the day before, the freshly cleaned dishes and cutlery, and their colorful “California” shirts.
Savannah felt her heartstrings tug as she and Dirk waved vigorously and watched until they had disappeared down the road.
She looked up at her husband anxiously, thinking he must feel at least as sad as she did, if not more.
But he was looking down at her with a sweet, peaceful, contented expression on his face that told her that, at least for the moment, all was right with his world.
“That was great. But it’s just you and me now, kid,” he said, as they turned and started back up the sidewalk to the front door. “Imagine that.”
“Whatever will we do with ourselves?”
“We can run around the house naked. Hooters and dickey-do abob.”
She giggled and poked him in the ribs. “We could fool around in our own bed and not worry about how much noise we’re making.”
“Now you’re talking.” He opened the door, and they walked inside.
The house seemed so very, very quiet. Deliciously, miraculously quiet.
She whispered, “We could just sit in the living room and not say a single word to each other.”
“Ah-h-h! Lovely.”
“Or . . . you could go up to your man cave, shut the door, and watch some Navy SEAL videos, and I can order a romantic, girlie flick and watch it down here by myself.”
His face lit up. “Really? Could we do that?”
“Sure we could. Why not? A little solitude once in a while’s a healthy thing.”
“That’s a wonderful idea—if you don’t mind, that is.”
“Grab a cold beer and Cleo and go.”
“Van, when it comes to wives, you are the best!”
He headed for the kitchen, then paused and looked over his shoulder at her, a concerned look on his face. “Does this mean the honeymoon’s over?”
“Naw. When it comes to you and me, darlin’—the honeymoon’s just begun.”
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 by G.A. McKevett and Kensington Publishing Corporation
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2013920820
ISBN: 978-0-7582-7654-4
First Kensington Hardcover Edition: April 2014
eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-7656-8
eISBN-10: 0-7582-7656-7
First Kensington Electronic Edition: April 2014
Killer Physique Page 27
