Page 89 of Tanner

Tanner could feel the shaking in his hands again now that they’d stopped. He pressed them flat to his thighs, but it didn’t help. Miles glanced at him, saw it, and looked away again without comment.

“I’ll get the bags,” Miles said.

Tanner nodded because speaking felt too hard right then. He got out and opened the back door carefully. Savannah didn’t wake when he unbuckled her. She slumped into him with her rabbit under one arm. He held her close and shut the door with his hip.

Miles was already at the porch by the time Tanner reached it. The front door key felt clumsy in Tanner’s hand and he missed the lock the first time and then the second. On the third try the key slid in and turned.

The front door opened and Tanner saw the CPS letter where he’d left it, visible even from the doorway. Tanner stopped dead, staring at it. Miles came up behind him and waited for him to move. For one long second Tanner thought he might start shaking hard enough to drop Savannah, then Miles stepped around him. He put the bags inside, walked into the kitchen and turned the letter face down.

“Take her up,” Miles said quietly.

Tanner carried Savannah upstairs and laid her on the bed without even trying to get her changed. He took off her shoes, loosened her coat, tucked the blanket around her, and stood there for a second with his hand on her back to make sure she stayed settled.

She sighed once and burrowed deeper into the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, though she was asleep and couldn’t hear him.

When he came back downstairs, Miles was in the kitchen with the kettle filled but not switched on, as though he wasn’t sure whether Tanner would want a drink or silence or him gone.

Tanner stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gripped the banister.

The crash had hit him now, and exhaustion, shame, and fear were also still there underneath it all.

Miles looked up and watched him.

Tanner opened his mouth, not sure what to say. “My hands won’t stop shaking.”

Miles glanced down, then back up. “Sit.”

Tanner sat at the kitchen table and put both hands flat on the surface, trying to stop them from shaking. Miles switched the kettle on and moved around the kitchen, grabbing what he needed. The ordinary sound of it filled the room just enough to keep the silence from getting to Tanner.

When he put a glass of water in front of Tanner instead of coffee, he looked at it, then at him.

“Drink first,” Miles said.

Miles sat opposite after Tanner had taken a few swallows. Tonight, for the first time since opening the letter, Tanner was back in his own kitchen with Savannah upstairs asleep in her bed and Miles across from him. Strong and steady and just what Tanner needed, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Miles stayed at the kitchen table and let quiet settle Tanner. He sat opposite him with both hands around the glass of water, though he was only taking the smallest of sips. The worst of the shaking had eased since they came back into the house, but it hadn’t gone completely. His fingers still tightened now and then against the glass, and every few seconds his attention shifted somewhere else.

Miles kept his voice low. “You want tea or coffee?”

Tanner shook his head. “No.”

“Alright.”

Miles left it there. He didn’t push Tanner to talk. He could see he was exhausted, but he was still holding himself tight, and every small sound in the house pulled his attention before he caught himself and forced it back down.

“Miles.” He looked at him. Tanner kept his eyes on the table. “You should go home.”

“No.”

Tanner lifted his head then. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“I’m home now.”