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“Anything for Cory here. Not many that age out of the system come around and build tree houses for us old folks.”
I raise my brow at Corvin and point to the tree house peeking out from the backyard.
“You built that?”
He shrugs, but there’s the slightest bit of embarrassment in his smile. Like he isn’t used to having his accomplishments acknowledged.
“Nice job, Cory.”
This time he gives me the look, the one that says I’m being a brat and asking for punishment.
Maybe I like torturing him a little too.
They take us into the house, and where I expect to see children falling over themselves and toys all over the floor, there’s clean hardwood, furniture not covered in stains, and it kind of smells like a flower field.
There’s a teenager sitting at a dining table with headphones on and a book open on a table. An actual book, not a textbook.
“Mae and Aila are upstairs. Jared is in the backyard with Carter, and the boy in his own little world is Clarke; it’s his first holiday here.” The woman is talking to Corvin as she leads him through the house, but I’m stuck in the entryway, staring into the happy, little, temporary home that reminds me of the days I’d run off to stay with Atty.
“Hey.” A soft pressure on my lower back snaps me back to reality, and I lean into Corvin’s touch. “Let’s get you settled. I’ll introduce you to everyone, and then if you want to hide away for a while, I won’t blame you.”
As soon as we climb the stairs, Corvin is bombarded by a set of nine-year-old Asian twins who treat him like a jungle gym. He smiles and plays along, chases them out to the yard where they roll in the grass and laugh like they don’t have a care in the world.
An older boy, maybe fourteen or so, joins them with a toddler on his hip. The toddler reaches for Corvin and is accepted into the pile with open arms, and the older boy starts up a game of tag with one of the twins.
Corvin is full of smiles and sweetness as he bounces the little kid on his lap, making faces and playing peekaboo. Tickles that send the toddler into a round of giggles that makes my chest feel warm and fuzzy.
It’s like watching a movie, though; I can’t quite figure out where I belong in this picture, so there must not be a place. I’m here, but am I really supposed to be?
After a few minutes where the other twin and the toddler head inside, Corvin reaches for my hand from the ground, and figuring I don’t want my sour mood to ruin the day for him, I accept it. Only, instead of rising to his feet, he pulls me down on top of him until we’re a tangled mess of limbs sprawled on the grass.
“What the heck?” I laugh and push off his chest, but an arm around my waist holds me in place.
“You look sad. Everything alright?”
Oh, just the usual swing of the pendulum. Sex mania followed by ‘I don’t really want to be alive.’
“I’m just a little tired, I think. Long drive. Companion who somehow managed to talk about absolutely nothing without shutting up for six hours.”
He smiles so wide it makes my heart twinge. “Come with me.”
He hoists us both to our feet and grabs the bags we abandoned near the back door. We stop at the base to the tree house, and I watch as he climbs the ladder, pushes up the door, and tosses the bags inside.
“Corvin. Sweetie. Are we sleeping in a tree?”
He jumps down from the ladder all smiles and confusion. “Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?”
“It felt appropriately snarky.”
Corvin slings an arm around my shoulder, jostling the butterflies huddling in my stomach, and drops a kiss to the top of my head.
“Why don’t you go up and acclimate for a bit? I’m going to help get dinner started.”
He kisses me again—this time on the mouth—and then leaves me to my own devices.
The inside of the tree house is exactly what you would expect with little craft tables and toy bins. There’s an airbed and some sleeping bags rolled up in the corner next to our bags.
It’s cozy with a kind of child-like wistfulness that I can barely remember. But it reminds me of peaceful weekend mornings when Mom would sit with Blair and I in the backyard singing to us as we pranced and played.
