"Oh, we shouldn't do that to Sheila," Daniel protested. "She didn't plan on feeding a crowd."
"My wife," Jim butted in, "always expects the unexpected." He grinned and pulled Sheila to him. "And she always packs enough for an army. Why do you think I look like this?"
Sheila hugged Jim. "Oh, yes," she agreed, "there's always plenty of food." She turned adoring eyes on her husband and gave his paunch an affectionate pat. "But if you blame this on me..."
"Come here, you." Jim's sultry tone was for Sheila's ears only.
Savanna discreetly turned her head as Jim nuzzled his wife's neck. She watched as Daniel also redirected his gaze. There seemed to be nowhere else for them to look but at each other.
Heat rose to her cheeks. She couldn't fathom why a simple, completely natural kiss between Sheila and Jim would make her so uncomfortable, but she was certain that it had something to do with the fact that she and Daniel used to engage in the same affectionately expressive behavior.
"Do you mind?"
Daniel had stepped closer to her, and his question took her completely off guard. Did she mind what?
she
wondered. That Jim was kissing his wife? That Daniel used to do the same to her?
Her blank expression must have explained her confusion for he added, "My having lunch with you and the
Thompsons
."
Her face flamed even hotter. "Of course not," she said, her voice clipped and unnatural.
"Let's go find a nice shade tree," Jim said, taking the basket from Sheila.
The men were several steps ahead of the women, and Sheila took the opportunity to quietly ask Savanna, "Do you mind if Daniel has lunch with us?"
"Of course not."
Again, Savanna heard the short, sharp words come out of her mouth. "Really," she added, hoping she'd softened her tone enough to hide the anxiety that roiled in the pit of her stomach.
What was there to be nervous about?
she
silently chided herself. Sheila and Jim were with her. And Jimmy and Amanda would demand much of the focus. Really, there was nothing be anxious about. So why did she feel like a teenager with a bad case of first-date jitters?
~
~
~
They walked across an open field to the picnic area, and Daniel took the children to the playground while Sheila, Jim and Savanna set out lunch. They spread
the blanket on the grass beneath the leafy branches of a stately oak tree.
Savanna straightened one corner of the blanket and her gaze was pulled to where Daniel played with Sheila's children. He swung Amanda high in the air and she squealed with glee. Then he chased Jimmy around the sliding board. And when it was Jimmy's turn to chase, Daniel slowed his pace until the little boy caught him.
"Lunch!"
Sheila called.
Daniel lifted Amanda into his arms for one last flight into the air before he herded both children across the grassy expanse toward the picnic area. A tender smile curled the corners of Savanna's mouth when she saw him chase one wandering child, then the other.
"He's very good with the kids," Savanna remarked to Sheila.
"He is," Sheila said. Her smile quickly turned to a frown as Jimmy ran up behind his sister and pushed her hard.
Amanda tumbled off her feet and her sharp cry sent all the adults rushing to help. Daniel picked her up, and by the time Jim, Sheila and Savanna reached them, he'd brushed the grass from Amanda's hands and knees.
"Oh, baby," Sheila cooed as she took her daughter from Daniel. The toddler buried her face in the crook of her
mother' s
neck.
"James Allen Thompson!" The stern voice of Jimmy's father made the boy's bottom lip quiver. "You are in serious trouble."
"It was an accident, Dad," It was clear Jimmy didn't expect anyone to believe the blatant fib.
"That was no accident," Sheila said.
"But I didn't mean it."
"Not one more word, young man," Jim interrupted his son. "You'll spend the afternoon in your bedroom for this."
"Jim," Sheila said, "this bump on Amanda's head needs ice. We should probably go home."
"Okay," he said. "My car's in the lot. I'll carry her." The still sobbing Amanda slid from one parent to the other.
"I'll pick up the lunch things," Savanna offered, "and meet you in the parking lot."
Jim shook his head. "You and Daniel stay and enjoy lunch. I hate to say it, but I don't have room for you in the car. The back seat is loaded boxes, and with the kids' car seats..." He left the rest of the sentence unspoken as he kissed Amanda's tear-streaked cheek. "Okay, honey," he crooned over her sobs. "We'll be home soon."
Sheila shot Savanna an apologetic look.
"It's okay," Savanna whispered to her. "I'll be fine. Go take care of Amanda."
Savanna watched the
Thompsons
make their way to the car, Jim cradling little Amanda, Sheila with Jimmy's hand firmly in hers.
"You never know what kids are going to do next."
Daniel's sad statement made her turn her attention to him. His dark eyes were filled with remorse, so much so that Savanna touched his arm.
"There was nothing you could have done to prevent that."
"I know," he said. "But that was a nasty bump on little Amanda's head."
"Well, Sheila will take her home and put a cold washcloth on it." Savanna smiled. "And Jim will make over her until
it's
all better. That's what parents do."
"And poor Jimmy..." Daniel let the sentence lag.
"I'd hate to be in his shoes this afternoon," Savanna agreed.
Savanna realized that the tumultuous scene had drained her of every vestige of nervous energy that had built up in her chest. She looked at Daniel and found the idea of spending some quiet time with him quite pleasing. She'd wanted the chance to talk to him. Maybe, if she eased into the conversation the right way, this could be the perfect opportunity.
"How about some lunch?" she asked.
Daniel's eyes searched her face. Finally he said, "We don't have to do this, Savanna. It's all right. I'll head on home and grab something to eat there. But I will help you clean up."
He dipped his head and went to move past her where the picnic was spread out under the tree. Savanna reached out and stopped him with the barest of touches.
"Please, Danny. Have lunch with me. Let's talk."
Again his dark eyes scanned hers, deeply, probingly. She felt the corded muscles of his forearm beneath her fingertips. He masked his emotions expertly, so Savanna couldn't tell exactly what was going through his mind.
After the eternity of several seconds had passed, she felt him relax, saw his eyes lose some of their intensity. He covered her hand with his own.
"Sure," he said softly.
They walked to the blanket, her hand in the crook of his elbow, his hand gently on hers. The serene aura that surrounded them conjured misty emotions in Savanna. She didn't know why things had taken such an amiable turn, and she refused to question it. Her only thought was to spend some time with
Daniel, the man who had meant so much to her so long ago.
As they feasted on Sheila's delicious Southern fried chicken and homemade rolls, they talked endlessly about how they'd spent the past six years. He told her about his sister's fight with breast cancer, a fight she, so far, was winning. He spoke of his mother and how she hadn't wanted to leave Fulton but had felt torn because Celia needed her. Daniel's voice was quiet when he talked about his father's death. The turmoil of taking over his father's law practice had been tremendous it seemed, but Daniel's tone lightened when he revealed the great amount of support the community had given him when he'd taken on the challenge.
Then it was Savanna's turn. She told him all about the lean years she spent acquiring her education. She'd refused her parents' offer of funds, not meaning to hurt them in any way, but as a means of reinforcing her commitment to demand her own maturation, independence and sense of responsibility. It was something she'd simply had to do for herself.
When she said those last few words, she saw a trace of white outlining Daniel's compressed lips, the only indication of his discomposure.
Savanna spent a silent moment wrapping up the remaining chicken and putting it in the basket. Daniel was quiet and she thought that perhaps she needed to change the subject.
Looking over at him, she could see he was content to just sit quietly. The lull in conversation was by no means uncomfortable and she considered relaxing in the tranquility of simply being here.
With Daniel.
Something, over the last few years, she'd grown to believe improbable if not entirely impossible. But she didn't feel all talked out yet. And besides, she needed to somehow broach the subject of his feelings about
their past. Initiating some dialogue would be a start in the right direction.
She tossed him a shiny red apple and then plucked one from the basket for herself. "It sure is a beautiful day."
"Sure is," Daniel agreed,
then
bit into the fruit.
She tried again. "You know, I never forgot what a wonderful town Fulton is. People still care about one another here. It's not like that where I live. I hardly know my neighbors. I'd love to be able to come home to stay."
Daniel remained silent and Savanna clearly saw her attempt to start a conversation fall flat. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as the silence grew strained.
"I…" They spoke the same word at the same time and then both stopped abruptly.
Savanna chuckled. "Please," she said, "go ahead."
Daniel shrugged. "I was just going to tell you that I'm glad you could get Harvey to fix your plumbing last night."
"But..." Savanna couldn't help the frown of confusion that marred her brow. "How did you know?"
Now it was Daniel's turn to chuckle. "Savanna, you've been in the big city too long. You're back in Fulton.
A town where everybody knows everything about everyone.
I found out Harvey worked on your plumbing the same way I found out you weeded your flower beds yesterday afternoon. The same way I found out…" his eyes lightened with suppressed humor "…that you spent an ungodly sum of money at the supermarket on convenience foods this morning."
"Okay, okay," she mumbled. "I get the picture.
The dreaded small-town grapevine."
She eyed him a
moment, daring him to laugh, then said, "Well, a girl's
gotta
eat, doesn't she?"
He finally surrendered to the merriment that danced in his eyes, and Savanna wasn't long in joining him in laughter.
Finally Savanna inhaled deeply of the fresh air. "This park brings back such wonderful memories for me."
"I feel the same," he said quietly.
"My mom used to bring me here." Savanna gazed over at the playground. "She'd push me on the swing until I thought I'd touch the clouds."
"Oh."
She looked at Daniel. "What?" she asked. He seemed so disappointed at the mention of her memory.
"When you said the park brings back memories," he began, "I thought you meant..." He shook his head.
"Never mind."