Page 65 of Safe With Me
Hannah
Thanksgiving at Gracie’s house defined painful and awkward, all of us gathered around her and Andy’s table with a sharp awareness that nothing was the same. Even with Raley and Laura’s antics – because Andy wanted them at the table, so there was none of that children’s table mess at their house – Elizabeth’s absence hung heavy, like a death.
And maybe it was a death of sorts, the loss ofbefore. The loss ofnowbecause she’d scoffed at Gracie’s invitation, was spending the day in Albany with Mama, who wasn’t speaking to me either. Even with all the mess, the absence of them made my stomach hurt, a low dull ache like I wanted something and couldn’t say what it was.
I glanced through the kitchen doorway to the living room, where Tate leaned forward on the couch next to Daddy, gaze on whatever football game they watched. Hands clasped loosely between his knees, he focused on the screen, a slight frown between his brows and seriousness all over his face.
The nagging ache settled in my chest, right over my heart. His holidays must have been like this for years, tinged with loss like a black and white photo with only the barest hint of color.
I hated that, wanted to go back and redo all those photos in bright color, just for him.
Still watching him, I stowed a plastic container of butterbeans in the refrigerator.
“Well, I’m not shy.” Gracie nudged my shoulder and passed over a foil-wrapped platter of ham. “I want to know where you two are.”
My cheeks warmed with an honest-to-God blush. I fitted the platter on the middle shelf, not looking at my sister. “Together.”
Gracie rested a palm on the counter. I couldfeelher gaze boring into the side of my face. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“We’re . . .” I darted another glance at the living room. He slumped on the couch, shaking his head in disgust and rolling a hand at the television, low voice growling despair at the effectiveness of the offensive line. “A couple. We’re going to be together and figure out what we look like.”
Her perfect brows dipping into a soft frown, Gracie examined me, a knowing glint that spoke of personal experience striking gold in her hazel eyes. “You love each other.”
A different heat zipped up my nape. “We like each other.”
“I see,” she murmured, something about the soft agreement making me feel almost like she did, except Andy adored her. Like, couldn’t take his eyes off her, worshipped the ground she walked on, adored her. Tate, on the other hand . . . well, was the tender way he touched me, the reverent way he looked at me adoration?
Affection maybe.
Closing the refrigerator, I shut off those thoughts and the melancholy they brought. The dishwasher needed to be loaded and–
“You know Andy and I were faking it at the beginning.” Gracie’s quiet statement sliced through my forced busyness.
“What?” Shocked, I spun to stare at her, finding her watching me with that same knowing glint. I shook my head. “I don’t believe that.”
With a soft laugh, she nodded. “I was pregnant and Raley’s bio dad didn’t want anything to do with either of us.”
“Wait.” The world tilted. Raley’sbio dad? I shot a look toward the backyard, where Raley had his basketball out on the concrete. Any other day, Andy would be right out there with him, helping him perfect his layup and dribble and jumpshots. Raley’sbio dad. “Andy isn’t Raley’s father?”
“Andy is Raley’sdaddy.” Grace’s steely tone brooked no argument. “Raley knows about the sperm donor because I was not going to have an ancestry-DNA-test-for-fun debacle turn his life upside down when he got older. But focus on this part–”
“Do Mama and Daddy and Tilda know?”
“No.” Grace’s voice hardened. She had a backbone of steel also, always had. “It’s nobody’s business but ours. Now, focus, Hannah.”
“I’m trying.” This unexpected conversation resembled looking through one of those old-fashioned Viewfinder toys when the disc got stuck between two pictures.
“Andy and I were friends. I needed help and he was willing. I couldn’t go to Mama, and Daddy was . . . well, you remember.” She shrugged, a hint of old hurt and disappointment on her face. My gaze found Daddy in his spot on the couch next to Tate, grinning at the game. Yes, I remembered, and I was thankful for who he wasnow. “We were going to get a divorce after I had the baby.”
I stared, a completely inappropriate laugh burbling free. “Oh, my God, you were defrauding the Army for healthcare–”
“Hannah.”
“Okay.” I held up my hands. “You were friends and planned to divorce.”
The words tasted surreal because Andy lived for Gracie. Frowning, I tried to remember back when she’d been pregnant with Raley, but she’d lived on base with him. I’d been with Daddy, and Daddy had been drunk almost all the time. Even so,Daddy drunk was preferable to Mama, so . . . I’d gotten through each school day, then gone to the store to make sure everything was running as smoothly as possible. I’d been so darn glad to graduate so I could just be at the store full time.
And finally, Daddy had gotten himself together. Then Tilda had made his life so much better. I’d been able to simply be me at last.
