Page 25 of Save Me
"Gunner, you gonna share that feast or what?" Mark's voice booms from across the bay as he emerges from another room, wiping his hands on a rag. "Some of us are eating whatever mystery casserole Ash brought from home. Emma's on a girls' trip, so it's awful, rest assured."
"Hey now," Ash protests, "my tuna casserole isn't that bad."
"If you say so," Mark replies with a grin, walking over to us. He gives me a nod. "Hey there, Amy. Rosa."
"Hi Mr. Mark," Rosa says shyly, suddenly seeming to remember there are other people around.
"You know what?" Gunner says, looking between all of us. "Why don't we all sit down together? I'm sure there's enough here to share, and Amy, you and Rosa haven't eaten yet, have you?"
I shake my head. "We ate earlier, but?—"
"But nothing. Come on." He gestures toward the kitchen area. "The guys can heat up their mystery casserole and we can all eat together."
Mark and Ash exchange a look that I can't quite decipher, but they both follow us toward the long table that dominates the station's kitchen area. The space is clearly designed for a crew to eat together.
"So," Mark says as he settles across from us with his reheated casserole, "Gunner's got his own personal chef service now?"
Ash snorts. "More like his own personal everything service. When's the last time any of us got a home-cooked meal delivered?"
"Never," Mark replies immediately. "In fact, I think my lady girlfriend would laugh herself silly if I suggested she bring me dinner at work."
I feel my cheeks heat up, but Gunner just shrugs as he takes a large bite of the meatloaf. "Maybe you guys just aren't as charming as I am."
"Charming," Ash repeats with a laugh. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Rosa looks between all of them, clearly trying to follow the adult conversation. "Are they being mean to you, Gunner?"
"Nah, sweetheart. This is just how guys talk to each other. They're jealous because you made me the best dinner ever and they're stuck with whatever Ash cooked up."
"It's tuna casserole," she says matter-of-factly. "Mama makes that sometimes, but she uses different noodles."
"See?" Gunner says to the other men. "Even Rosa knows better cooking when she sees it."
Mark clutches his chest dramatically. "Shot down by a five-year-old. My ego may never recover."
"I'm seven," Rosa corrects seriously.
"Seven," Mark amends with an apologetic bow of his head. "My mistake, miss."
I watch the easy banter flow around the table, my heart doing somersaults in my chest. Rosa is giggling at something Ash said, completely at ease with these men who've become such an important part of our lives. Well, Gunner has anyway. The other two are growing on us.
But it's Gunner I can't stop watching. The way he includes Rosa in the conversation without talking down to her. The way he makes sure she feels heard and valued. The way he catches my eye across the table and smiles like we share some wonderful secret.
"So Amy," Mark says, pulling me from my thoughts, "how long did it take you to figure out meatloaf was this guy's weakness?"
"Rosa actually guessed," I admit. "She said he looked like a meatloaf kind of guy. I asked him recently, and he confirmed."
"Smart kid," Ash observes. "What gave it away, Rosa?"
Rosa considers this seriously. "He's big like my daddy was, and Daddy always liked meatloaf best. And Gunner has kind eyes like Daddy did too."
The table goes quiet for a moment, and I see Gunner's jaw tighten slightly. He reaches over and gently squeezes Rosa's hand.
"Your daddy sounds like he was a really good man," Gunner says softly.
"He was," Rosa agrees. "But he's gone now, so Mama says it's okay to have new friends who take care of us."
My throat tightens. Sometimes Rosa's directness about her father's death catches me off guard, even though we've talked about it plenty.
