Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(59)

Quite the recitation. And respectfully? Connor ran a hand over his jaw, hiding his smile.

“That’s...uh, very poetic. I liked the part about the birds flying. But here’s the thing, Savvie. If he’s fourteen, it’s a pretty big age gap. But when he’s... I don’t know—forty, it won’t be.” Yes. Forty. He could see his little sister dating when she was thirty-six. That felt about right.

“Forty?”

He gave a conciliatory shrug. “Or maybe even sooner than that. But right now, I think the best-case scenario is that he’d be really flattered that you liked him, and he’d admire the guts it took to send the note.”

“Great!”

“On the other hand, though, if he did have a girlfriend, or if, say, the girl who was writing was a little young, he might feel...uncomfortable. He might worry if it was appropriate, if she was only ten. He might think, ‘Doesn’t that girl have a big brother who’s really scary?’”

“You’re not scary, Connor.” She smiled at him. She’d lost another tooth, he noted.

“Everyone knows I’m extremely scary. But do you know what I mean? You might put this nice guy in a tough spot. He might want to be friends with you, but if it’s romantic, he can’t be.”

Savannah pondered, then sighed. “This is probably good advice.”

“Well, sure. I’m your big brother. I’d just keep playing good baseball, maybe focus on that. Keep it at a level where you guys could talk about sports without anything being misinterpreted.”

She nodded. “Got it. Keep him in the friend zone.”

“How do you know that phrase?”

“Everyone knows that phrase. Wanna throw some more? Or are you too weak and exhausted?”

He stood up and grabbed her as a response, tossed her over his shoulder like she was a sack of rice and ran around the bases, her happy shrieks filling the air.

* * *

WHEN HE TOOK Savannah back home that day, he waited as he usually did until she was inside the house. Usually, she’d just open the door, turn and wave, then run inside.

Today, however, the door was locked. She rang the bell, then stood there a minute. When no one came to answer the door, he joined her on the porch.

His father’s house was, unsurprisingly, huge, showy and soulless. It was the last house in the cul-de-sac, the biggest house in the development, which was cloyingly called Whisper Winds Way. He’d been inside for Savannah’s birthday parties, and it was the same on the inside as it was on the outside.

“My mom said she’d be home,” Savannah said.

Connor knocked. Loudly.

No one answered.

Savvie had said Gail had been sick.

“Well, come back to the restaurant with me,” Connor said. “I’ll put you to work, how’s that?” He’d have to call his father.

Just then the door opened, and there was Gail. “Hi, baby girl!” she said. “Did you have fun?”

She looked awful. White-faced, her hair dull and disheveled.

“You okay, Gail?” he asked.

“Yeah. Just a little under the weather.”

“I’m starving,” Savannah said. “Bye, Con! See you later!” She darted inside the house.

Gail shaded her eyes and looked at him. “How was she?”

“Great.”

She really looked like hell. Usually, she wore tight, tight clothes, low cut on top, high cut on the bottom, not a fan of the less is more philosophy. Today, she was wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Connor was actually surprised she owned a sweatshirt.

“I was napping.” She lowered her hand. “Your father would love to speak to you,” she said. “He’s out right now, but maybe you could call him.”

“Maybe. Feel better.”

“Maybe we could talk sometime, too.”

“Why would we do that, Gail? Are you really sick? Is there something I should know?”

“No, no, it’s just...” She sighed. “I’ve always felt a little bad about...you know.”

“About what?”

“Dating your father right after our...thing.”

“We didn’t have a thing. We met twice.” He didn’t really mean to sound like such an *. Honestly, he had no problem with Gail, except that she made him want to take a shower.

“Well, I just hate thinking that it’s partly because of me that you and your father are...distant.”

“You weren’t his first mistress, Gail. You were just the woman who stuck. My father and I were distant long before you graduated from high school, not to worry.”

“I do worry.”

“Don’t. Get some rest. Feel better.”

He went back to his truck.

Well, shit. If Gail was sick—really sick—what would happen then? If she had cancer or something? He’d bet his father would hire a nurse and spend as little time as possible with her, then get married before the dirt had settled over her grave.

Savannah could always come live with Connor.

Shit. He’d have to report to Colleen so she could figure out what was wrong.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT HAD BEEN a quiet week since the debacle at Hugo’s. Even Davey had been subdued, though they’d had a nice half hour the day before, watching the tulips grow. Well, staring at the tulips she’d planted in the tiny scrap of front yard they had. But Davey was convinced that the sunshine was warm enough that they’d open, so they’d sat there together, Chico Three lying motionless on his back as Davey scratched his belly, all three of them looking at the flowers.