Page 18 of The True-Blue Romance

“What kind of cookies?” she questions further, as if weighing her options.

Lee chuckles. The sound makes my stomach tighten. “Any sort of cookies go with any sort of ice cream if you’re a real dessert fan.”

“That’s true,” Savannah says. I glance over my shoulder to see her perk up. “Cookie flavor doesn’t matter.”

I plate three bowls of pasta, carrying two in one arm and one in the other, placing a bowl in front of each seat at the table. Lee stands, pats my bicep, then heads into the kitchen to get drinks. He opens the cabinet next to the fridge to grab one of Savannah’s favorite cups with tigers and giraffes on it, filling it with the unopened apple juice he had on the counter. I watch as he adds the apple juice to the fridge before grabbing us each one of the amber beers.

“Here ya go, princess,” Lee says as he sets the apple juice in front of Savannah.

“Thank you!”

We settle in to eat and I’m struck with that feeling that I often have. Like maybe the three of us should always be together. Roommates at our age feels a little weird though. I worry about jacking Lee’s style. We don’t talk much about romantic partners or anything like that because Lee is so private, but I hope he has someone, even if it fills me with this indescribable urge to protect him. Lee is so gentle and everything about him is so big, yet I worry about him being hurt. He’s been hurt enough in life.

“Dessert now, Unc-Lee?”

Lee ruffles Savannah’s curls with a sad-looking smile. “If Daddy says so.”

“Daddy says so,” I say as I head into the kitchen. The cookies are still warm when I crumble them into a bowl for each of us, adding a scoop of rocky road. I return to the table with the bowls and spoons, nearly unable to hold back a grin when Savannah does a little wiggle in her seat. “Here you go.”

“Today is the best day ever,” Savannah announces just before digging into the dessert.

Lee sends me a little wink before digging into his as well. We eat our dessert in silence, and I can tell Savannah is starting to get tired just by counting the number of times she rubs her eyes while eating her dessert. Once she’s done, I settle her on the couch in front of Lee’s television, putting on her favorite episode of Bluey that he has favorited on a streaming service. She curls up on the couch with her favorite knitted blue blanket, eyes blinking slowly. Savannah’s always been an amazing sleeper and she hasn’t outgrown her naps yet, but today she missed hers, so the crash is coming soon.

Lee is washing the dishes, so I join him at the counter, doing the tried-and-true routine we’ve built after so many years, whether it’s my house or his. He washes, and I load them into the dishwasher to the left of the sink. Lee’s eyes are on the backyard, a furrow in his brow, thoughtful upturn to his lips. I wait him out, knowing that whatever he wants to say will come with time.

“I wanna get a rabbit,” Lee finally says.

“Oh, that’s a great idea. For the goats?”

“For Savannah.”

“Oh.”

Lee turns to me, and the light hits him just right, making my stomach do that weird clench again. I should probably see a doctor. But how do I explain to a doctor that my stomach only twists and turns when I’m in close proximity to my best friend?

“The rabbit would stay here. I’ll build it a pen, near the goats, and Savannah can name it. I was thinking a little after Easter, because sometimes you can get a bunny as a rescue when someone got one for the holiday but didn’t realize how much work rabbits can be.” Lee finishes his little speech, then bows his head. “It’s okay if you don’t like the idea.”

I cup his neck in my palm, rubbing my thumb over the pounding of his pulse. He tilts his head until his bearded cheek rubs against my wrist, every nerve ending in my wrist lighting up at the slight touch. I want to swoop my hand back into the too long hair at the nape of his neck and tug him close until his head is tucked against my shoulder. I want to keep him happy and smiling always, no more sad smiles on his beautiful face.

“Savannah would love a rabbit. Thank you, Drew.”

Lee breathes deeply and squeezes his eyes shut so hard that it looks like he’s being tortured, not lovingly touched by his best friend. His cheeks flush maroon and he pulls away abruptly, putting enough space between us to make me feel a little sick from the distance.

Lee clears his throat awkwardly. “Okay. I’ll let you know when it’s all ready so that you can bring her over. All right?”

“Okay.”

“She’s probably sound asleep by now,” Lee says carefully, eyes shuddered again.

“I’ll carry her out. We’ve done this before.”

Lee looks out the back window, face angled away from me. “Yeah.”

“Drew, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing, I—” Lee stops himself again, as if he’s holding something back. “Have you emailed Danica yet?”

The subject change is so abrupt that it takes me a moment to reorient myself with the conversation. “No, not yet. I was thinking of saying something at drop-off.”