Page 133 of Reeves

But is it good? Routine matters. Consistency matters. People who stay matter.

"He's leaving soon," I say, reminding myself as much as telling him, but the words sound hollow even in my own head. "I don't think he'll be able to come back before he has to go."

Benjy stops bouncing, his expression suddenly serious. "Is Reeves mad at us? Is that why he's not coming back?"

The question hits me in the sternum. I look at my son, with his bright green eyes and the same thoughtful head tilt as Reeves.

This isn't just about protecting my boundaries anymore. This is about what I'm choosing to allow or deny based on my own fear of getting hurt. A tank show isn't dangerous, especially if it is the last time they will see each other before Reeves leaves.

I exhale slowly. "Actually, Benjy. Now that you mention it, Reeves sent me a message earlier." I keep my voice light, casual.

"Oh, he did? Maybe he can come tomorrow, then?

"There's a show with tanks and military trucks in Gulfport this afternoon. He thought you might like to go. Would you like that?”

I try to make it sound small, just a simple invitation, not the seismic shift it represents.

Benjy freezes for half a second, then erupts. "REAL TANKS? That we can SEE?" He jumps off the couch, spinning in a circle. "Can we go RIGHT NOW?"

His face glows with such immediate, uncomplicated joy that my last defenses crumble.

I reach for my phone as my heart races.

I unlock it and open Reeves's text. Benjy races around the coffee table, arms outstretched like airplane wings.

"Are we really going? To see real tanks?" His voice cracks with excitement.

I type a response, keeping it simple.

Benjy would like that. When and where exactly?

"Mom! Mom! Will they let me touch them? Do you think they'll let me sit in one?" Benjy stumbles over his own feet but catches himself on the arm of the couch, bouncing back up without missing a beat.

My phone vibrates almost immediately with a response from Reeves.

It starts in about an hour and goes on until 6.

I'll leave now and pick you both up.

I frown and type back quickly. The last thing we need is to give him a reason to come back here afterwards. I need my own car.

We can meet you there. You don't want to come out of your way to come to Bay St. Louis. Can you send the address?

Benjy climbs onto the back of the couch, his whole body vibrating with energy. "I need to tell PopPop! He won't believe it! Real tanks!"

The phone buzzes again.

I've got nothing else scheduled. It's no trouble to drive over. Plus, parking's a nightmare at these things.

Three dots.

Plus, showing up in a Hummer will only make it that much better for Benjy.

This is exactly what I was afraid of. Small decisions leading to bigger ones. A tank show turning into shared transportation, shared time in confined spaces, and him ending up right back here.

Fuck me.

I start typing "I'd prefer—" but stop when I look up. Benjy stands in front of me, his green eyes wide, hands clasped under his chin.