Soon the meat was cooked, the salad was prepared and on the table.
“Wow, Carey. I’m impressed with your domestic abilities.”
“Yeah unlike Peter Pan, I eventually had to grow up.”
“I would’ve liked to see that.” The wistful tone of her voice made him reach over and place his hands over hers. “No more what-if’s,Vannah. We can’t go back and change the past.”
“You’re right.” She nodded.
“Good. I’m going to remind you of this moment the next time you’re pissed at me.”
She chuckled. “I forgot how funny you were.”
“That’s because you’ve been away too long, and I have to admit I got better with time.”
“I love your modesty.”
“It’s one of my more charming attributes.” He took his seat across from her and set their plates on the table. “Let’s eat. I’m suddenly in the mood for Farkle.”
They dug into their food. He kept the conversation light and humorous. The taut muscles in his shoulders relaxed.
“I’ll help you clean up.” She stood, cleared the table, and he followed. The banter proved easy to slip back into. He watched her from the corner of his eye as they rinsed their plates and utensils and placed them in the dishwasher.
Relaxed and bemused, she glowed. He could see the women she would have been if Clark’s murder had never happened.
“Why are your eyes boring a hole into me?”
“Just enjoying the moment.”
“Uh huh?” She closed the door to the dishwasher and stood.” Don’t try to get out of Farkle. I’m ready to crush you.”
“Jeez, you’re all heart. I’ll grab the dice. You do remember the rules, right?”
“Yes, you smarmy bastard.”
She moved back to the table as he opened a drawer beside the sink, chuckling. Vannah always gave as good as she got. They managed to trash talk their way through three games before they packed up. She’d made good on her boast, earning the high score.
“This was more fun than I thought it’d be.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
“So you wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again?”
“No, I wouldn’t.” The smile faded from her lip, and her expression grew serious. “But now it’s time to get back to work.”
“Yeah.”
It was interesting the way she hid behind her job. He left off the serious discussions for later. He had to go slow, or she’d balk. There was too much at stake now for him to fail. When this was all finished Clark needed to go home where he belonged. The thought hurt. The selfish part of him loved having Clark here in a physical sense, but what happened when they all died and he remained alone with no one to talk to? He’d seen enough paranormal movies to know spirits that hung on too long went south. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that happen to Clark.
Chapter Six
“Is this compete with Savannah month?” she asked, only partially joking. Last week they’d started the tradition of playing Farkle during their lunch breaks. This week he wanted to go play Putt-putt. She’d held her breath in anticipation of the touchy-feely stuff to come. Per his style.
He’d done the exact opposite of what was expected and kept things on a laidback level she could easily handle. Between worrying about her family, looking around every corner for Clark, and pulling late nights, her brain was close to mush.
“No, I just thought it’d be fun to check out all the old haunts, sort of past meets present take on things. I figured maybe it’d help us find our new normal.” He shrugged. The slight tint to his cheeks told her this was hard for him. So she bit back the smart -leck comments that rolled into her head. This is for Clark, and I’ve been bitchy enough to Carey to last a lifetime.