themâ¦
Brodyâs gaze went to his plate. Finally, he picked up his fork. âYes, sir.â
Hmm. The silence after his words had even Ronie clinking her plate with her fork, dividing her asparagus into chunks.
Outside, twilight had descended, shaggy fir trees shifting shadows into the yard, and the cicadas had come out, buzzing in the night. Ronie longed to push away from the table and escape outside into the sultry, thick air, slip off her shoes, feel her toes in the cool grass. If she listened hard, perhaps sheâd hear laughter from the playhouse on the far edge of the yard, maybe even see Savannah beckoning to her from the swing set.
Not the Savannah that peered down upon them from the oil on the wall behind her in the dining room, but the one with long brown hair, so soft for braiding, the one who knew all the voices to Little Women.
âSo, I suppose you visited a lot of interesting places in the military?â Ellie to the rescue, still trying to pawn off the rolls.
âYes, maâam.â Brody accepted another roll, set it next to his already cut and buttered one. What, was he going to slip it into his pocket for later?
âHave you seen action?â
âOh, Ellie, donât ask him that.â
âYes, maâam,â Brody said, again that strange glance down at his dinner. The entire affair felt not unlike a KGB interrogation. They just needed the bright lights and the toothpicks. For a second, Ronie had the urge to rescue him.
Thankfully, it passed.
âMr. Wickhamâs offices are in downtown Prague,Ellie.â The senator turned to Brody. âBeautiful city, Prague. Went there on my twenty-fifth anniversary, with my wife.â
Ellie looked over at him with a smile, not a hint of warmth in her eyes. âYes. Very beautiful.â
Her father had finished off his bourbon and switched to merlot. He swished his wine by the stem of the glass. âI saw that you worked for Hans Brumegaarden. Something about a birthday party, and Snow White?â
Was that a blush on Wickhamâs face? Maybe, but then it vanished and he caught Ronieâs eye, straight on. âYes. Our security firm was asked to dress the part while protecting Gretchen Brumegaarden during her Disney-themed birthday party. I was a dwarf. Iâll do anything to keep a client safe. Even if she is five years old and dressed up in some crazy costume.â
What? No, he didnât just call her a five-year-old, did he? Her mouth opened. Oh, she so had words for him. But no, she was a Wagner. Sheâd keep it to herself.
At least tonight.
âI need some air.â She pushed away from the table. âThank you for dinner. Iâll see you all in the morning.â
Brody rose from the table. The senator stayed seated. Ellie put out her hand, catching her arm. âVeronicaââ
âItâs Ronie, Mom. My friends call me Ronie. Or, if you want, Vonya would work, too.â She pulled away and glanced at the Boy Scout. âThe tour starts in a week. Try to stay out of my hair until then.â
She was turning away when she heard him mutter, âWhich hair?â
And oh, she shouldnât have, but she couldnât stopherself. In fact, yes, she turned right about five years old as she picked up one of the rolls and hurled it across the table, right at his smug little kisser.
âVeronica!â
He caught it with one hand.
Smiled.
Nodded.
Game on.
Fine. If that was how he wanted it. She turned, ignoring her motherâs hand as it tried to catch her.
The moon had lifted above the trees, a spotlight in the sky, skimming over the cool grass. She toed off her sandals, sifting the grass through her feet as she treaded over to the swing set.
She sat on it. Heard the voices of the past.
âWhen I grow up, Iâm going to be a famous actress.â Savannahâs voice filtered from the yellow playhouse, its windows like eyes, dark and empty. âIâll
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley