Page 47 of The Pact
She nods. “Dragon Warrior Queen.”
“Right, sorry.”
Savannah sits across from us and shrugs out of her coat, smiling at us. “It’s good to see you with them.”
My throat tightens.
I look at Remy, then at Rhyan, who is making my napkin into a cape for her fork.
“Yeah,” I say gruffly. “I’m glad to be here.”
Remy interrupts by launching into a detailed explanation of icing, which I’m pretty certain he makes up most of it. I listen anyway and ask questions. I also promise to introduce him to Aiden Griffith someday. He came to one of our games this season to watch his brother, my teammate Aston, play. His eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. You would have thought I was telling Remy he was meeting Santa.
“He’s like my hero on ice,” Remy says.
It’s sweet, and I make a mental note to tell Aston about it.
Rhyan interrupts every thirty seconds to explain dragon law.
By the time lunch is over, I have tomato sauce on my sleeve, a sticker on my phone, and a plastic ring on my pinky because Rhyan said it meant I was a member of her army.
It’s the best afternoon I’ve had in months.
When we get back to Savannah’s house, Chris is home from the hospital. He takes the kids outside to burn off what was left of their energy. And I think to give me and my sister some time alone. I’ve always appreciated that about him.
I stand at the sink, looking out the window, watching them.
Rhyan’s going to be a force. Her battle cry, even through the glass, is … significant.
Savannah walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Want some coffee?”
Even though it’s late afternoon, I have to travel back to Jersey tonight, so I accept.
I love coming to her house. It feels alive in the best way. The kids’ drawings on the fridge, shoes piled in the mudroom, toys scattered everywhere but the toy bins, and a basket of laundry waiting to be folded. It’s the kind of home that’s too busy to be perfect.
My dad would have loved that she’s created a home like this for her family.
“Here you go.” My sister sets my cup on the island.
“Thanks,” I say, turning to walk toward her and away from the window.
“So, anything new with you outside of football?” She leans her hip against the counter.
I shake my head. “Not really. We’re in the thick of it, trying to get a spot in the playoffs. Typical November pressure.” I laugh.
“No doubt.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “It was great to see Presley last month at your game. It’s been a while. She doing okay?”
“Yeah, she’s good.” I nod.
“That’s it?”
“Yes?” I look at her and smirk. “She’s busy being the team doctor.”
“Mmhmm.” She stares at me, like she knows something I don’t.
“What?”
She smiles. “Your tone changes when you talk about her.”
