Page 8 of Just George

“Because that’s not always possible,” I replied, chuckling. “Not everyone is gonna let you get close enough to knock them upside the head with a gun.”

He shook his head as a woman walked over to speak to him.

Leaving him to chat with a friend of his who was a social worker, I checked on Hannah and then retreated to an area near the edge of the room to watch.

Having fixed the doctor and seeing that Hannah was safe, I cracked my neck and readied myself for a long night. I hoped my favorite burger place would still be open when the event was finally over, because already, I was starving.

3

As usual, during the second hour of standing around, after people drank and ate and went from table to table, there were the speeches. Hannah did a good job, and people laughed in all the right places, which to me was the most important thing. When she called Aaron up to the stage, he got a standing ovation and then unveiled the number of mental health centers the crowd was going to help him build and where they were going, into which communities, and the staffing they would have. Max announced the winners of the silent auction, and then Debra Loring, a Pulitzer-Prize-winning Chicago-based journalist, chaired the bachelor auction. While the latter was going on, Hannah turned around in her chair to look at me. Moving quickly, I was beside her chair, crouched down, in seconds.

“We should auction you off,” she whispered, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

“Do you want us to still be talking by the time your birthday rolls around?”

Instant scowl. “You have no sense of adventure whatsoever.”

“Just because you enjoy bein’ the center of attention doesn’t mean the rest of us love it. Did ya ever think about that?”

She scrunched up her nose.

“Your therapist is not having a good time,” I said, only because the man in question was not in the room at the moment.

“Yes, he is,” she argued. “He’s met a lot of new people and made all kinds of excellent professional contacts.”

“Yeah, but you gotta think,” I reminded her. “He had that thing happen, and it wasn’t that long ago, right?”

Her brows furrowed.

“I’m not saying you did a bad thing, but you didn’t warn me and you didn’t warn him. And me—shit—who cares, but him… he’s a little more delicate, maybe.”

She looked like I hit her.

“Don’t do that,” I warned her as I saw the doctor cutting across the room. “Because we’re both okay, but next time just put yourself in his shoes.”

She nodded quickly, biting her bottom lip. Hannah was a good person, thoughtful and kind. It had never crossed her mind that her therapist wasn’t up for spending time in her world. “You shouldn’t say stupid things like who cares about you, because you know I wouldn’t be trying to find you a soul mate if I didn’t.” She sounded cross, but she always did, a little, with me.

I grunted. “Care a little less, all right?”

“I can’t. And you know I can’t.”

“Try.”

Her smile came back then, big as ever. “We should get hamburgers after this.”

It was possible I whimpered, and she laughed before I stood up and would have returned to my spot, but halfway there a man blocked me.

When I looked up, I noted his eyes, which were a lovely hazel color, and his golden-brown hair, and the carefully manicured stubble that lined his jaw. Handsome in that way where he was certainly aware of the fact, and when I smiled back and moved to step around him, he barred my egress once more. Funny that before I became a soldier, I didn’t even know that word, egress, but now it was what came to mind whenever I was leaving a place or needing to get by.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled, trying to be nice and not simply move him.

“I wanted to see if I could get you a drink,” he asked me.

Meeting his gaze, I gave him a half-assed smile. “I’m working at the moment, but thank you. That’s a lovely offer.”

Slipping around him, I returned to my spot, and when I turned, I was surprised to find the same man there, blocking my sight line of Hannah.

“Give me your number and I’ll––”