entryway comes a loud whistle and a male voice. “Hey, Tricks, I have shit to do and your cousin is on the top of my list. Let’s do this.”
“You want a busted lip and another black eye,” Patrick says, walking toward the door, “keep talking shit and you’ll get both, asshole.”
Chapter 15
“Compassion is the wish to see others
free from suffering.”
~Dalai Lama
Patrick
“I have got to be out of my fucking mind to be going along with this shit, Savannah.” I laugh from behind her.
“It has to be the perfect one.”
“We’ve passed hundreds of perfect ones, and it’s going to be dark soon.”
She looks back at me, carrying two canvas bags filled with shit we grabbed at the dollar store, and laughs. “You need a break from the cardio, gym rat?”
“Hell no,” I lie.
I mean, I don’t, but this hiking shit is not my thing. Yet, here I am, following her, with her hair tied up in a top knot, wearing my old green flannel over her Bean tee because “it’s so comfy” as she ducks and weaves between trees in the forest around Crystal Lake.
“I think I found it,” she calls back to me.
I let out a loud, “Woo-hoo,” that echoes through the forest and hurry to where she’s standing.
“This one?”
“You may not see it, but I swear it’s perfect.”
“I see it.” I drop the bags. “Now let’s make it happen.”
She narrows her eyes at me as I push up my sleeves and squat. “You think this is stupid?”
“Not at all. It’s a tradition. I like traditions.”
She sets down her bag and sits on the ground and, in a monotone voice, she repeats my words, “Traditions give us a sense of belonging. Brings back memories of family together time, the good shit, so we can celebrate the bond with those we’ve loved. It’s spiritual and helps us connect now and for generations.” Then she looks at me and makes a hardened face. “It’s not a fucking corporate ploy the man uses to take more of our money.”
I laugh. “Is that supposed to be how I sound?”
She smiles and tosses me a pinecone from her bag. “Just butter a pinecone, Patrick.”
And butter pinecones we do.
“Is there an order of operations here?” I ask.
“This isn’t algebra class, there isn’t a recipe in a book. It’s peanut butter and all the toppings, in no particular order.”
I sit back and pull out the dried bags of fruit and tear them open. Then I pull out my phone. “Favorite Christmas song?”
Without hesitation, she answers, “ ‘White Christmas.’ You?”
“ ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’.” I try to keep a straight face as I watch hers scrunch up.
“Are you serious? You know—”
“I know it got a bad rap—it’s a song. But I also knew it would get you going, and I’m not gonna lie, Savvy. It’s becoming a hobby.”
“Such a jerk,” she says with no sort of conviction.
“The real answer? I don’t have one favorite.” I tap my music app and add a new playlist, loading it up with different artist remakes of ‘White Christmas.’ Then I hit play and put it on speaker. “Now, let’s pick out your favorite rendition.”
“Bing Crosby,” she answers before hearing any of the others. “On vinyl.”
“You’re a vinyl girl, huh?”
She nods.
As we decorate the peanut butter covered pinecones with dried fruits and birdseed, we listen to ‘White Christmas’ on repeat and talk vinyl.
She’s definitely stuck on the 70’s and 80’s music and knows some pop stuff, due to the fact that she listens to the only station that comes in on the radio at The Bean.
After placing them on the branches of the smallest pine tree in this part of the forest, I have to practically beg her to let me take a picture and promise on my life not to post it on social media. I ended up taking several, making her move around, telling her the lighting wasn’t good or some shit, just to get a few different faces of Savvy Sutton. I’m going to guess the majority are her being annoyed, which will definitely be the ones I save. And then I get her to take a selfie with me.
On the way back to the house, where our dough is being refrigerated, because as much as she’s against rules and hates boundaries, so far, she’s insisted we follow the recipes she chose to the T, she asks, “Are you sure we don’t need anything else at the store for the cookies?”
I love that she’s excited about doing this. Like I