I wait.
Then I realize I look somewhat stiff with my back too straight. Maybe I should try to be a little more casual for her. I pull my chair back and try to lean against the arm of it. It’s uncomfortable. But I keep doing it, hoping it gives off casual vibes.
I sit that way for all of a minute before I shift back into my usual straight-spined posture. Casual really isn’t in my vocabulary, but I have to keep trying for Vivian. She’ll be here any second. She’s late, but I’m certain she’s on her way.
Trying again, I lean back, letting the chair take my weight more. I feel like I’m getting the hang of it.
Until Mrs. Putnam peeks in. “Why do you look like a corpse?”
“Oh my God.” I sit up straight and glare at her. “Where is she?”
“How should I know?” She closes the door.
I can’t decide if I should throttle her or march upstairs to find Vivian. Neither. I decide I need to be patient. After all, Vivian’s only a little bit late.
Another pose, another five minutes. I get a crick in my neck from trying to lean on the table in a super casual way.
She’s ten minutes late. This is unacceptable. To a man like me, time is money. I stand, the crick in my neck making itself known.
“Dammit!” I turn around and kick my chair away. “Son of a bitch bastard. I’m just stiff, all right? I’m hard!”
“Um, Griff?”
I whirl to find Vivian just inside the dining room door, her eyes wide.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“Nothing.” I right my chair and pull it up to the table. “Nothing at all.”
“Really? Because it looked like you were–”
“You’re late.”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “I was playing with mama and the babies. They are the absolute cutest. I lost track of time.”
“In this house, I expect you at dinner on time, Vivian.”
When she drops her gaze, I know I’ve fucked up.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
Fuck, I’m a goddamn asshole. “No, don’t be sorry.” I sigh and go to her, then pull her into my arms. “It’s all right.”
“Really?” She hugs me back.
“Yes. I guess I’m just sort of set in my ways. But I can’t expect you to do everything the way I’ve always done it.”
“I want to try.” She looks up at me. “I just don’t know what you expect.”
“I expect you to be happy.” I don’t know why I say that, but it’s the truth. I never want to see tears in her eyes or sadness on her face. She’s already had enough of that.
“That’s a tall order, isn’t it?” She snuggles against my chest.
“It can be. But I want to make it a reality for you.”
“You do?”
“Of course. I’m your guardian, after all.”