For a moment neither of them spoke, until Tanner said, “She likes it here.” Tanner folded the napkin in his hands.
Miles looked toward Savannah. “Looks that way.” He liked it too, more than he probably should have. Savannah wasn’t his, but he found he wanted to see her happy.
“She asked if Cassie lives here.”
“And?”
“I told her no.”
Miles glanced at him. “How did she take it?”
Tanner’s mouth shifted slightly. “She pouted then ran off.”
He said it with his eyes on the yard, not on Miles. “Kids get attached fast,” Miles said.
“Yeah.”
There was another pause. Miles rested one hand on the edge of the table. “You alright?”
Tanner gave him a look that should have shut the question down. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“That’s a lie.”
Miles could have denied it. Tanner would have seen through that too, considering what had happened between them “I heard the question.”
Tanner’s face didn’t change much, but Miles felt a change. “Of course you did.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know.”
Miles nodded. “Still hit though.”
Tanner looked away toward the fence, where Savannah was now kneeling beside Cassie and drawing something big and messy across the paving stones. “That’s how it goes,” Tanner said after a moment. “People ask things.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re about to tell me something I don’t want to hear.”
Miles kept his tone even. “Probably.”
That got Tanner to look at him. “And?”
“It’s fine until it isn’t. Most people don’t mean any harm. They ask because they’re making conversation or because they think they’re being helpful. Then one person decides something sounds off, and after that it gets bigger than you want.”
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “I know how people work.”
“I know you do.”
“Then what?”
Miles held his gaze. “I’m saying it before somebody else says it badly. You need the paperwork side sorted.”
Tanner let out a deep breath and looked away again. “I’m working on it,” he said.
Miles thought of forms. Anything official that needed answers Tanner might not have the paperwork for. “That means what?”