Page 24 of The Way We Are

“The maintenance crew power washed the marble yesterday in preparation for summer,” Savannah explains when she notices my inconspicuous gawk at her empty patio and pool house. The vast size of her property will always be impressive, but the blank canvas gives it a bland, generic feel a family home should never have.

“If you saw the hideous furniture my mom purchased in the month leading up to her move, you’d understand my dad’s eagerness to get rid of it,” Savannah adds on with a roll of her eyes.

I smile when memories of Kath’s poor interior design skills filter through my mind. I don’t know if she is colorblind, or just has bad taste, but even a twelve-year-old boy knows floral-covered cushions don’t belong on a zebra-striped couch.

“So I take it your family get-together wasn’t held here?” I ask Savannah when we reach the edge of the pool.

“Family get-together?” She sounds confused.

“Yeah... remember? You had plans today.” I keep my tone disinterested, not wanting to remind her of my snooping ways.

“Oh...” She pauses for a moment, contemplating the remainder of her reply. “I didn’ttechnicallyhave plans today...Well, not ones I could share with Axel.”

Now I’m the one stumped for a reply. Even though she didn’t say she ditched Axel for me, the guilt in her eyes says it, as does the thrumming of the vein in her neck.

“You generally work nights, so I didn’t factor in a change in your schedule when I told him I was busy,” Savannah adds on. Her “family” excuse meant me.

“One of the regular cooks moved to Georgia with his fiancée a few weeks ago. I’ve been filling his shifts every weekend since. A new guy started last week. Once he learns the ropes, I’ll be drop back to my standard hours,” I explain.

Savannah’s smile competes with the low-hanging sun when she replies, “Okay, good. I’ll let my dad know. He’s been grumbling about a lack of flavor in his burger since your shifts changed to mornings.”

“You eat at Bob’s?” The shock in my tone is uncontained.

The last time I dined with Savannah’s family, we ate butter garlic snails and some weird fish meal that was as salty as the waves crashing on the coastline at the elegant restaurant where we dined.

“Every Saturday night,” Savannah answers, her voice not what I anticipated. I thought it would come out with a gag—not excitement. Don’t get me wrong, Bob’s burgers are the best in town—it just isn’t an establishment you’d expect a millionaire family to dine at.

“Do you remember my dad ordering us cheeseburgers when we refused to eat those disgusting snails?” Savannah asks, her voice picking up with excitement.

When I nod my head, she says, “Those where from Bob’s. That’s when his obsession started.” She's laughing so hard, her words come out choppy. “For years, he snuck out every Saturday night to fulfill our cravings. He passed the baton to me a little over three years ago.” The silly grin on her face is replaced with a more contrite one. “I lost count of the number of times I’ve watched you work the past few years. You’re always in your own little world, doing your own thing.”

I attempt to deny her statement, but no words leave my lips. I’ve never been good at lying. When I am working, I do get caught up in my thoughts. Unsurprisingly, most of them center around Savannah, so it’s fitting she witnessed my lost-in-space composure.

“You should have come and said hello.” I keep my tone friendly, deciding to go down a smooth track instead of the bumpy one. Although I’ve known this girl most of my life, our friendship is only just getting off the ground, so I’m treading lightly.

Savannah’s lips purse as she weakly nods her head. “I will from now on.”

Hating that she’s gone from grinning to pouting, I ask, “Speaking of your dad, where is he?”

Savannah hit the jackpot in the family lottery. Not only did her mom dote on her obsessively during her childhood, she was awarded a father any kid would love to have. Savannah’s dad is a large, brutish man with shoulders nearly as wide as my height, but he has the biggest heart. Anything his girls wanted, he gave them. That’s another reason I was shocked to learn her parents separated. Thorn loved his wife as much as he does his daughter, so I’m sure the end of his marriage was hard on him.

Savannah shifts her eyes to the colossal mansion standing tall and proud on over an acre of manicured gardens. I remember the first time I visited her new house. Drool pooled in the corner of my mouth when her dad gave me a personal tour of his recently constructed eight-bedroom, five-bathroom home with three tennis courts, a nearly Olympic-sized pool, and a game room that was bigger than my house. I swear my brain exploded. I felt like a kid visiting the North Pole, unable to decide which toy to try out first.

After rolling up her sleeves, Savannah plunks her backside on the white marble lining the pool, then drops her eyes to the crystal blue water. “Dad’s golfing. He won’t be back for a few hours.”

“Your dad plays golf?” I ask, joining her poolside.

Since I have boots on, I face my back to the water. It's better this way. Instead of only seeing Savannah’s profile, I can see her entire face.

Keeping her eyes on the downlow, Savannah nods.

“Since when?” Shock reverberates in my tone.

Savannah giggles, taking my playful comment as I intended. Her dad is as sporty as I am mechanical—we’re both shit.

“Everything can be taught, Ryan.” Faster than I can blink, the cheekiness reddening her face drains. “Even love,” she whispers, her voice so low, I strain to hear her.

“I’m calling bullshit,” I reply with a shake of my head, quoting one of her favorite sayings when anyone tries to slip a white lie under her nose. “That’s like saying someone who hates cheese will love it if they just keep eating it. That’s not true. If you hate something, you hate it. If you love it, you love it.”

---