Savannah's Song (South of Forever, Book 2)

Chapter 4

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The front door opened and Max shuffled in, hair disheveled. Her fingers twitched with the desire to run her hands through that hair, to try to tame it. Part of her wanted to know why he was home from his paper route later than usual, though.

Shoving her questions down, she wiggled the phone at him. "Guess who just called me?" Her lips broke into a wide grin.

Lifting a shoulder, he ambled past her toward the coffee pot on the counter.

Grabbing Chloe's breakfast, she moved to the side so he could make his coffee. Savannah put the fruit and waffles in front of the little girl and practically danced to the refrigerator. "I submitted one of my paintings to a gallery." She leaned toward Max, hands clasped, ready for his reaction.

He measured coffee grounds, his back to her.

Face falling, she inched closer until she stood next to him. "Did you hear me, papi?"

"So?" He turned the coffee pot on and reached for a mug amidst the dishes drying in the drain.

"I got in." She waited for understanding to dawn on his face. It didn't. Rocking back on her heels, she mumbled in Spanish to herself about how men were so oblivious to everything. "They're going to sell it, for money. My art is being displayed to people!" There. Sometimes, she had to break things down for him. Men and women truly lived on different planets.

He gave her a nod and headed for the refrigerator.

"That's it?" She lurched into his path. "You're not going to congratulate me?"

His eyebrows knit together. "Why?"

She shook her head and moved to the side. "Never mind." As he opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the half and half, she tried again, from a different angle. "Mira, the showing's gonna be early in the day. I kinda have to show up. I was thinking, maybe we could enroll Chloe in a day care. Maybe I could start painting again, a couple hours a day."

Max slowly turned to look at her. The half-gallon of creamer slipped from his grasp. It crashed to the floor, splashing against the cabinets and Savannah's feet. "Day care?"

Grabbing the dish towel, she knelt to sop up the mess. "Yeah. Probably just one of the ones where they socialize, you know? Not one of the accredited ones." She steeled herself for the argument. She knew they couldn't afford childcare for the whole day, but if she could bring Chloe just a couple of times a week, it would be the perfect compromise.

"Are you serious?" He crossed his arms.

He glared down at her. She grimaced. "Do you want me to say I was kidding?" Meeting his eyes, she smiled. "Just think about it. I know we don't have the money, but—"

"You want to just dump my kid with strangers?" His words cut into her like shrapnel. At the table, Chloe burst into tears at her father's sharp tone. Max never yelled.

Lifting Chloe from her seat, Savannah rocked her back and forth. She shot Max a glare. "It'll only be a few hours a week. Besides, the interaction with other kids her age will be good for her."

"Will be?" Max's hands balled into fists.

Ignoring him, Savannah brought Chloe into the living room. The little girl's favorite cartoons were on. Reaching for the remote, Savannah turned the volume up. Max followed her, though, and she sighed. So much for drawing attention away from their fight.

"You're not putting my kid into some kind of baby farm." He pointed a finger at her.

Taking a deep breath, she moved back into the kitchen, hoping that he'd follow. He stomped behind her, and when she turned, he looked even bigger than usual. Huffing, he reminded her of the Hulk. She took a step back, eyes darting for a way around him—just in case. Lifting a hand, she searched for a way to calm him down. "I'm just trying to make us all happy."