The pause was expected. It didn’t have to be very long – less than a second, really – for Sav’s ears to catch onto it. If dialogue with other people had a rhythm, hers was a frenetic, buoyant melody that landed with a staccato hook while the other person tried to find their place in the beat. Her mood stayed jovial, but it wasn’t until she heard his laughter that her shoulders relaxed and her smile ticked up at the joke. Her expression was clear and light when she turned towards the voice.
It was a nice voice, attached to a really nice face. So nice that, if her family wasn’t dealing with a lot of really urgent and important things right now, she might have thought that one of her cousins had set this up as some kind of welcome to Willow Creek joke. Sav had grown up in a blindingly gorgeous family, which had done its fair share to dull how awestruck she could be around legit beauty, but she still maintained a keen appreciation for it. She had to fight the fleeting impulse to ask him if a) he was single and b) if she could send his picture to her spinster model sister. Ohmygod, they would be so perfect.
Fortunately for Courtney, decency, and whatever tattered remnants of her pride that had stayed with her after the last two months, his words broke through her momentary reverie and her thoughts returned to semi-normalcy, because this guy was still just a kindly stranger standing her doorway. Her eyebrows rose at his couch lifting enthusiasm, but the look she gave him was impressed. “I’m so sorry. I thought for sure that my calendar said ‘meet the handsome furniture moving fanatic at 4:30pm’. But if you’ve been waiting all day, clearly our schedules got mixed up.”
When he introduced himself, Sav was struck with a note of familiarity. Harding Reynolds. She felt like she’d heard that name before. If she thought about it, the memory conjured up was Lanie’s voice over the telephone, but she couldn’t quite find the context. Whoever he was, though, apparently he was her new next door neighbor. They really should have put that in the brochure. Her look became inquisitive when he opened his hands. In the second before he explained the gesture, she thought it looked like he was beckoning her in for an embrace, or a very intense clasping of hands, both of which she was totally fine with. When he explained the meaning, though, her curiosity slipped into understanding and she nodded. “I didn’t know that, actually, but that’s very cool. It’s like finding out that the word ‘berserk’ came from the Vikings or that ‘buttering someone up’ actually comes from an ancient Indian tradition where they would throw butter balls at statues of their gods to curry favor.”
Opening her palms, she smiled and said, “Savannah McKenna.”
At his question, her expression became self-deprecating and she snapped her fingers before pointing at him. “So, funny story. I’ve never lived on my own before and because my dad is wonderful and supportive, he took me furniture shopping before I left. And to me, the couch is the ultimate communal centerpiece of the home, right? So when I saw this plush, beautiful, comfortable sofa that can easily fit at least three of my family members, and let me tell you right now that we’re a family of loungers, I just went for it. I didn’t think about size and proportion until we were loading it into the van.”
Walking up to Harding, Sav gave him a sympathetic look before slipping by him. “Definitely the stairs. It’s okay if you start crying. You can back out at any time.”