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I didn't want to seem pushy, to make her feel like anything was wrong with a farm that meant a lot to her.
I also knew it would mean a bit of a difficult discussion to tell her that if or when we got around to doing an addition, that I planned to cover the costs. It only made sense. I had been saving up to buy my own place for a long while, had a nice nest egg sitting around that I would no longer need.
She was so used to handling everything by herself. She'd been on her own from such a young age with no one to fall back on but similarly aged friends in similar financial situations. She'd also, essentially, been carrying the full weight of the responsibilities of the store on her back for years as well.
She didn't know how to ask for help, or to accept it.
She'd thanked me four times when I had taken the trash to the street the first time.
With that level of independence, I figured, there was a certain level of pride in being able to do it all yourself. I didn't want her to think I was taking it away from her.
It was new, we were new, I reminded myself here and there. It didn't feel new most of the time since we had known each other for ages, since so much had seemed to happen since the night she had shown up at my door. And maybe a part of me was impatient, wanting everything to fall into place more quickly than the average person.
Because, well, I knew.
This was it.
She was it.
There wasn't a single question about that fact.
This was a forever kind of thing.
I just needed to let her come to the same conclusions on her own, in her own timeline.
Then we could discuss the heavier things.
"Hey, King!" she called, voice carrying from the back of the house where she stood on crumbling steps that made my stomach tense, wondering if this would be the time that they finally gave into the nearly nonexistent mortar and collapsed. "Can you help me with the drinks?" she called. She'd been mulling mint leaves all morning into homemade lemonade anticipating the heat, the grumbles from my brothers, the need to hydrate and feed them. Though she was outsourcing the latter task to the local pizza place.
I turned back to find Atlas steadily working at yanking out the old fence post to allow Nixon to dig the next hole, then made my way across the field, shooting a smile at Paddy and Petunia who had this habit of sleeping with their noses touching even outside in their run.
"Ugh, goddamn it!" Savvy's voice hissed as I made it in the door, finding her frantically mopping up spilled liquid, sweat trickling down her temple.
"What happened?"
"This stupid kitchen happened," she informed me. "I turned. Just turned. Like a normal person. Not flailing around. And my elbow hit the pitcher and it spilled. I want a new kitchen," she added, turning to glance at me. "What do you think about that?"
"I think it's definitely a good idea."
"And a dining room," she added. "I mean, we are having your brothers for dinner and we don't technically have anywhere for them to sit and eat. It's ridiculous."
"They'll be fine, but I think a dining room would be a great addition too," I agreed, moving in, wrapping my arms around her, smiling when she grumbled it was too hot to be cute and cuddly.
"What do you think about me paying for it?" I asked, figuring this was as good a time as any to bring it up.
Her eyes flashed, a few feelings moving across them for a minute before they settled, surprisingly, on humor.
"Well, it is either that, or I will have to take Faye up on her offer to pay for it."
We hadn't been invited back to the casino again. I hadn't expected us to. That said, it was often that Faye and Aero and Richard and Eamon made it into conversation. Some people left impressions. And there was no denying that Savea had been a bit taken with the beautiful, cold, interesting madam... and flattered by Faye's infatuation with her.
No one would call Savvy insecure, but she also always seemed surprised when someone was taken with her. Maybe because she'd been friends with people who had a tendency to steal the spotlight in most situations, often leaving her in the shadows. She always slow blinked at the brightness when it shined on her for a while.
"Well, seeing as I am not sharing my woman with anyone else, I think me paying is the best bet."
"I'd make a terrible escort," she told me as she often did when the topic came up.
"You'd be amazing. But I'm a selfish bastard."
"I like that about you," she told me, forgetting about the heat, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck.
