“I was afraid I’d fall. I could have broken my arm, my neck, my back—”
He took her hand. “But you didn’t.”
“Because of you. How can I repay you, Tanner?”
He glanced down at their hands clasped together. Holding her fingers felt so natural. So right. But it was also wrong. He was her boss now, even though she didn’t know it. “You don’t have to repay me, Anita,” he said, slipping his hand out of hers.
“Oh, I’ll figure something out.” She went back to finishing off the pancakes. When she was done, she asked, “Are you going to eat that?”
Her escapade on the roof—and the reminder that he shouldn’t have held her hand—had killed his appetite. “You can have it.” He speared the pancake with his fork and put it on her plate.
She started to cut into it, then stopped. “Oh boy.” She set down her fork.
“What?”
“I hope my parents don’t find out about this. I’ll never hear the end of it, especially from Mom.” She grimaced.“She’d probably use it as an excuse for me to move back home.”
“After living by yourself all this time?” he said. “That seems extreme.”
“Never underestimate my mother’s ability to underestimate me.” She sighed, picking up the fork again. But instead of eating she pushed the pancake around on her plate. “The thing is she’s almost always right. Compared to my siblings, I’m the problem child.”
Tanner leaned forward. “I don’t believe that.”
“I do. Not as much as I used to, but the feeling is still there. I just took a different path than they did, but sometimes I can’t shake the thought that I failed them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that—finding your own path, I mean. If you’re happy with your work and your life, what does it matter?”
“Your brother isn’t a lawyer or a pediatrician. Your father isn’t a well-known cardiologist...” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Tanner, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Here I am complaining about my family when your father... See, I’m doing it again. Not thinking before I speak.”
He met her gaze. “Anita, it’s okay to talk about Dad. He’s gone and has been for a long time.”
“But... you rarely ever mention him. At least around me.”
Tanner paused, unsure if he could adequately explain how he felt. But he needed to reassure her that she hadn’t committed a cardinal sin by bringing up Dad. “That’s because talking about him makes other people feel uncomfortable.I remember right after he passed away, even though I was young, everyone around me avoided mentioning him. My mom, teachers, other family, and friends. They resisted talking too much about him when I was around.” An unexpected stab of grief hit him, but he pressed on. “Later, my mom was able to talk about Dad more often, and that helped me process the grief. That and half a year of visits to the school counselor.” He glanced at his lap. “I guess I’m still in the habit of keeping him to myself.”
She nodded, and when he looked up he saw the compassion in her eyes. “Anytime you want to talk about him, I’m here.”
A lump blocked his throat. He could tell her offer was genuine. “Thanks,” he finally managed to say. “The hardest thing about him being gone, other than missing him, is making sure I live up to the promise to take care of Mom and Lonzo.”
She smiled. “You’ve definitely done that.”
He grinned, amazed not only that he’d admitted his fear of failing his family but that it felt right to share it with her. He never expected they had that in common: trying to live up to their parents’ expectations.
But he also didn’t want to dwell on the past right now. His emotions were too close to the surface for comfort. “Your pancake is getting cold,” he said, pointing to her plate.
“That’s okay.” She picked up her fork. “I don’t mind cold pancakes. Or cold pizza. But I draw the line at cold tacos.”
“Yuck. Same here.”
As he sat back in his chair and watched her eat, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw Sunshine’snumber on the screen, then flashed it at Anita. “Tanner here,” he answered.
“Hey, it’s Fred. We’ve got a problem.”
Concerned, he popped up from his chair. Unbelievable. He’d owned Sunshine for little more than an hour before a problem happened. “What’s wrong?”
