“Look, I know this is probably the last place you wanna be right now…”
Casey glanced around. There they sat at the kitchen table they used to share, drinking coffee from cups they joined forces in buying after spending an hour picking them out together. Bright red with black handles, just like the rest of the house. He sat at his own table as a guest, as a stranger. How could a place he used to call home suddenly feel like another planet? Of course he would have rather been anywhere else. He wanted to say something along the lines of “no, I was actually thinking this was exactly what I needed today” but he banished the remark as soon as it came to him. His back-up jab was a lot more cautious. He looked up at her, his eyebrows arched. “I would like it on record you said that, not me.”
“Casey…” Sarah sighed, glaring at him. “This is hard enough, don’t make it worse.”
Casey’s expression softened once he got a good look at her. As much as he wanted to deflect his own discomfort with sarcasm and goofing around, he couldn’t keep it up when she looked so exasperated. He’d heard from a mutual friend she was trying to get clean, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t easy on her. Another concept which had become familiar, yet alien to him was watching Sarah in distress. Casey used to know how to handle that expression, that defeated sigh, the pain behind her eyes, but he didn’t know that code anymore. He wasn’t able to take her in his arms anymore. He wasn’t able to press his forehead against hers and shut out the rest of the world until Sarah was able to handle it again. All he could do was sit there, equally exasperated, distantly wishing he’d have ignored the call.
His gaze fell to their coffee cups. A momentary burst of nostalgia had him thinking about their argument years ago about whether blue or red cups would better match the marble table they’d just bought. It was such a trivial argument and they’d been absolutely naive in celebrating that it was the worst struggle they’d ever faced as newlyweds. “Look, what did you want to talk about?”
It took a few moments for things to simmer down enough for Sarah to explain. Casey tapped his heel on the ground, his patience wearing thin, but he had to keep himself in line since the ball was in her court. “It’s about Savannah,” she finally said.
Casey’s eyebrows furrowed. “What about her, is she okay?” He glanced at Savannah’s door. In the time he and Sarah spent apart, Savannah never left his mind, but he knew it was better to keep some distance since things were still fresh. Even now, the ice he stood upon was remarkably fragile. “Is she here?”
“She’s fine, she’s in her room,” Sarah assured. “It’s more just… you know, she misses you.”
Casey wanted to make a remark but held his tongue again. Not seeing Savannah wasn’t exactly his idea.
“She’s starting to ask questions and I don’t really know what to say,” Sarah admitted.
“What did you tell her?” Casey asked. It would be his little secret that he’d always intended to pursue partial custody of Savannah, though he was thankful he didn’t have to worry about that. He was thankful they could still function as a team when it came to her, at the very least.
“Well, I took care of the hard part, she knows we broke up,” Sarah mused, leaning her chin into the palm of her hand, her eyes drifting to the side. “She knows I’m going through some stuff, but obviously not what… She knows you’re not gonna live here anymore.”
Casey nodded, pursing his lips together. After a moment or so, he lifted his head. “Can I talk to her?”
“Go ahead.” Sarah nodded toward the door. “Hey, Casey?” She called his attention just as he was walking down the hall, prompting him to glance at her over his shoulder. “Thanks…”
Casey smiled a little, but shook his head. There was a lot to work out, but Casey still felt like he was the one who was supposed to be thankful. “Don’t worry about it.”
When he came through the door, Savannah was sitting at her desk, coloring while humming to herself. She didn’t seem to notice Casey was there until he was standing right beside her, looking over her shoulder. She didn’t look at him until he started to hum the same tune she was. “You came back!” she beamed. Savannah got a lot of her looks from him -- her extremely pale skin, sandy-colored hair, wavy just like his, but there was one staggering difference -- one breathtaking detail she had most definitely inherited from Sarah. Savannah had enormous brown eyes, through which anyone could see into the depths of her soul, just like her mother. Through them, in spite of her exuberant smile, Casey could see her pain, her confusion. Suddenly, she caught herself and shied away. “Mom said she didn’t know if you were…” she muttered, turning back to her notebook.
“She did, huh?”
“Mhm…” Savannah kept her head turned away.
Casey exhaled a sigh through his nose. He could tell she was avoiding him -- the situation all-together even -- and he cursed himself for having passed that nasty habit down to her. “Why don’t we put that away and talk for a second, okay?” he suggested. Savannah put her pencil down, pursing her lips together. With two stubborn parents, it was no surprise she hesitated to face him, but after a few seconds, she spun her chair around. By then, Casey was knelt down in front of her, finally able to see what it was she was hiding from him. She stared at him in silence, her soul-baring eyes drowning in tears. “Sweetheart, there is nothing that could ever happen that would make me not want to come back and see you.”
Savannah was frantically wiping her face. She nodded her head, sniffling. “Okay…”
“Seriously. I know things are pretty weird right now, and they probably will be for a bit, but me and your mom -- we love you so much and we’d do anything for you,” Casey went on, reaching up to brush Savannah’s hair out of her face. “And even if I’m not always here, all you have to do is call me, and I will be. I’m never gonna just go away.”
Savannah wiped her face again, nodding along with Casey as he spoke. At his conclusion, she paused to mull it over. Casey didn’t speak, just waited for her to process it, to ask any questions she wanted to, but no questions came. Instead, she held her hand out to him with her pinky extended. “Pinky swear?”
The gesture, in the grand scheme of things, was a simple one. Between two adults, it didn’t hold much merit, but for Savannah who was still a child, it meant everything. It was the ultimate confirmation, the ultimate contract. Despite all the other ways Casey could prove himself, none would ever mean as much to a six year-old as the pinky swear. He couldn’t help but laugh, remembering his own childhood, and how much the swear used to mean to him, and how it was the ultimate sin to break it.
Casey locked their pinkies together, finally smiling. “Pinky swear.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?” Savannah prodded, holding onto Casey’s pinky.
“Stick TWELVE needles in my eye,” Casey remarked with a grin, pointing at his eye. He finally got a giggle out of her with that. They laughed together as their pinkies broke apart and Casey brought her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “I love you, kid.”
“Love you…” Savannah brought her arms around him.
“You gonna be good for mom when I’m not here?”
“Yeeees.” Savannah pulled away, nodding.
“And you’re gonna keep practicing piano so we can play together?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’re always gonna remember I love you and I’m not going anywhere, right? You believe me?”
At that, Savannah giggled the same way she had a few moments prior, pointing to her eye. “Stick THIRTEEN needles in my eye.”
