Page 134 of Reeves

"Is Reeves going to take us in his big truck? Can we put the windows down on the highway?"

The hope in his face makes me feel like the absolute worst mom on the planet.

I delete my half-written message and let him know we'll be ready.

"Yep. We just confirmed. He will be here in an hour, so we need to make sure we get a snack and are ready. Bring your bag from the aquarium in here so I can refresh your water.

"YES!" Benjy punches the air and runs toward his room. "I need to find my camo shirt! The one Gigi got me for Christmas!"

I set my phone down and follow him.

"And my binoculars! For seeing faraway tanks," he yells from his room.

After finishing the laundry and putting my laptop away because I will not be doing any patient notes until tonight, if I'm lucky, we are getting close to when Reeves should be here.

I put on a light sun dress and flip flops, putting my hair in a loose bun. I don't know why I'm fussing so much about it.

"Benjy! Do you have your shoes on?" I call down the hallway.

"Almost!" His voice echoes from his bedroom, followed by the thump of what sounds like a book falling.

I grab the sunscreen from the bathroom cabinet just in case. SPF 50. I've never been to a tank show, so I have no idea if we will be inside or out, but I want to be prepared.

"Did you find your hat?" I arrange the snacks in the cooler. Apple slices. Cheese sticks. Granola bars.

"It's under my bed!" Benjy yells back.

I zip the small backpack containing wipes, band-aids, and extra sunscreen. Everything we might need. Everything I can control.

The deep rumble of an engine cuts through the midafternoon quiet.

"HE'S HERE!" Benjy flies past me, a blur of camo shirt and untied shoelaces.

"Benjy, wait! Your shoes aren't—" But he's already yanked open the screen door.

I exhale slowly. Count to three. Take the backpack and cooler.

The front door frame captures a picture I'm not prepared for. Reeves stands at the bottom of our porch steps in uniform.

The sight of him knocks the air from my lungs.

Gone is the casual stubble and faded t-shirt. His jaw is clean-shaven, hair freshly cut in that precise military style. He's wearing a light camo button-down that stretches across his shoulders, matching cargo pants, and boots that look like they've seen actual combat zones. His sunglasses hang from his collar, revealing those green eyes that match my son's perfectly.

My heart thuds against my ribs. This isn't the Reeves who slept on my couch or flipped burgers on my patio. This is Officer Stone.

Dear God. I had no idea I was a uniform girl.

There's no turning back now. I pull the front door closed behind me and walk down the steps to catch the end of their conversation.

"Look at my shirt!" Benjy spins in front of Reeves, showing off his camo pattern. "It matches yours! Gigi got it for me for Christmas and I saved it for special days."

Reeves is crouched down to Benjy's level without hesitation, inspecting the shirt with serious consideration.

"That's proper woodland camo. Good choice for reconnaissance." He points to a spot on the sleeve. "See how the patterns break up your outline? That's exactly the right ones to wear."

Benjy beams, soaking up every word.

"Your shoes are untied, buddy." Reeves gestures to the loose laces.