Time spent wrapping presents was, in many ways, preferable to time spent doing leadership things. Having him around more was a definite bonus. “You’ve got plenty of time. Or you can toss things in a gift bag and call it done,” she said as she turned and sat on the table. It wasn’t like they really had anyone in charge of sanitation anymore. Wherever all that torn wrapping paper was being taken, it was bound to pile up over time.
Shrugging, Leah glanced away to hide her discomfort with the question. “It’s probably too juvenile for her, but the only thing I found that reminded me of her was this hat and scarf combo that looks like a black cat.” Another shrug. “I was never great at picking out presents for people. Used to be the gift card sister.” It was easier than having to see disappointed faces when the receiver saw whatever she gave them. “Now the options are much more limited for obvious reasons, so I basically grabbed whatever I could find that might suit her.”
“Because it didn’t mean a damn thing, apart from Costanzo being a drunk bitch,” Leah replied, keeping her voice low so that Marigold wouldn’t hear her. Sighing, she rested her hands on the edge of the table. “I didn’t want you to be bothered by whatever the hell’s going on in her head. She used to pull stuff like this all the time.” A pause, then she amended. “Not the kissing thing, but shit that involved screwing with my head.” Leah rested her arms around his neck and held his gaze. “She was drunk. If my reaction didn’t make her wise up that I didn’t want it, I’ll make sure she gets it.”
It took a couple seconds for Evan’s words to process. He didn’t often outright forbid her to do something, but it really shouldn’t have surprised her that this was one of the matters he spoke up about. Leah didn’t speak right away. Just listened. The rational part of her understood his concerns. But the other part, the part that wanted to feel involved and useful… that part didn’t want to listen.
Looking down, she brushed her hand over her stomach as if in silent apology. She peered up at Evan. “I don’t go out alone,” she argued. “I never go out alone. Or on days that I don’t think I can handle whatever’s out there. I really don’t think me being active has anything to do with the baby not moving.” She considered it an accomplishment that she managed to keep her tone level.