Page 21 of A SEAL's Heart
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Later that evening, I’m heating a meal in the microwave when there’s a knock on the door. I leave my chicken curry, which I already know will taste nothing like chicken curry, and head to the entryway.
Avery stands on my doorstep looking like a picture. She has tied up her hair, and loose strands frame her face. My breath catches in my throat and I stand there like a dumbass, unable to speak even if I could.
“Mom made this for you.” She holds up a dish wrapped in tin foil. “It’s lasagna.”
My stomach growls at the smell wafting from under the tin foil.
I twist my mouth around to say thank you, but all that comes out is a grunt. Avery’s eyes light up at my sorry attempt to speak. “You’re improving.”
I wouldn’t call being able to grunt in distinct tones improving, but seeing her smile makes me want to try harder.
I step into the house and gesture for her to enter. She comes in and walks through to the kitchen, placing the lasagna on the side.
Her gaze moves around the open space and to the bare shelves of the living room.
“You’ve gotten rid of his stuff.” Her hand goes to her throat, and for a horrible moment I think she’s going to cry again.
Her lips press together and she swallows hard. “What are you going to do with it?”
That’s the question I’ve been mulling over for the last few days. But I have an idea.
I grab my notepad and scribble some words. She waits until I push the notepad over to her, then reads out loud.
“Take anything you want. The rest I’m going to sell to raise money for Joel’s veteran’s center.”
She looks up at me, and her eyes are wet.
“That’s…” she trails off, and I hate that I’ve made her cry again. I wonder if coming into this house will always have this effect on her.
She swallows hard and straightens her shoulders. “I like that.”
She looks around, and her gaze rests on the sofa. “Are you going to keep the furniture?”
I shake my head no. It’s all got to go, and I can’t think of a better cause then to raise funds for Joel’s veteran’s retreat.
A thought occurs to me. I scribble on the pad.
Unless you want it?
She shakes her head.
“No. I couldn’t stand to own anything of Jake’s. I’ll go through his personal things with Mom and take a few items, but everything else can go.”
I thought as much. I wish I could erase Avery’s pain, but I can’t. The best I can do is make sure there are no reminders slapping her in the face every time she stops by.
“What will you do for furniture?”
I write a note.
I don’t need much.
Since I moved in I’ve kept to the attic, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Long before my SEAL training toughened me up to be able to live and sleep anywhere, I was used to small rooms and shared spaces. Making do with whatever furniture available. I mean it when I say I don’t need a lot.
“Are you going to redecorate?” Avery’s expression perks up.
I shrug. The paint job still looks good, and there aren’t a lot of scuffs on the walls. There’s no need to redecorate but Avery looks around the place with her hands clasped together.
