Page 115 of Tanner

Miles glanced at the papers, then back at Tanner’s face. “Sit down, Tanner,” he said softly.

Tanner wanted to argue, but he was too tired to do it, so he dragged a chair out and sat. Miles put a glass of water in front of him and Tanner took it without comment and drank half of it.

For a while neither of them said anything. Tanner sat staring at the papers until the print blurred. “It’s done,” he said.

“For now,” Miles answered.

Tanner nodded. “Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I keep waiting for it to hit me properly.”

“It will at some point.”

“I don’t mean the good part.” He looked at the papers again. “I mean the other bit. The one where I remember they can still show up with another form or another meeting or some new thing I didn’t plan for.”

Miles leaned one hip against the counter. “They can.”

Tanner chuckled. “You’re not very comforting.”

“You don’t like comforting.” Miles smiled at him. “Do you? You prefer honesty.”

“That’s true.”

“You’re allowed to relax now.”

Tanner looked at him across the table. “I don’t know how.”

“No but you can learn.”

He picked up the top page again, read the same lines for the fourth time, then put it back down. “I need a job.”

Miles didn’t jump in. “Alright.”

“I mean actual work. Not just odd jobs. Not waiting around for somebody to need a fence fixed or boxes moved.” Tanner looked down at his own hands. “And I need to do my GED. I can’t keep pretending I’ll get around to it when everything settles down, because everything doesn’t settle down on its own.”

Miles stayed quiet for a second. “That for CPS?”

Tanner shook his head straight away. “No.” That answer mattered enough that he looked up and made sure Miles heard it properly. “For me,” Tanner said, and because there wasn’t any point pretending otherwise, “For us.”

A month ago Tanner would have choked saying words like that. Now they came out before he could stop them.

Miles’ face changed just slightly at that. “Good.”

Tanner let out a breath. “There’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever say.”

“Which part?”

“Any of it.”

That made Miles chuckle. Tanner sat back in the chair and looked at Miles. Work. GED. Actual plans that reached further than the next appointment, or the next form, or the next meal.

It was later, once Savannah woke up hungry again, that Cody and TJ arrived. They knocked once and then came in carrying two takeout bags and a carton tray of drinks.

“I bring peace offerings,” Cody announced. “And fries.”

Savannah, now fully awake, ran at him on sight. “Cody!”

He caught her mid-charge. “That’s the welcome I deserve.”

Tanner took the bags from him before grease soaked through. “You didn’t have to.”