Page 176 of Reeves

I open my mouth to remind him about eating with his mouth full, but Reeves answers first.

"Maybe not every day. Got to save room for pancakes and cereal and all that other good stuff."

"What about French toast? Do you know how to make French toast?"

"I do. But that's more of a Sunday morning thing."

Benjy considers this seriously. "Is today Sunday?"

"Tuesday."

"So we have to wait five days for French toast?"

Reeves looks up at me. He will be gone by Sunday, but neither of us want to burst this bubble right now.

"Five days isn't that long," Reeves says instead.

I sip my coffee and watch them negotiate the timeline of breakfast foods. Reeves treats every question like it matters. No rushing through answers or changing the subject when Benjy gets chatty. He leans forward when Benjy talks, giving him the same attention he probably gives mission briefings.

"What are we doing today?" Benjy swings his legs under the table, already finished with his egg.

"What do you want to do?"

“Everything. What can we do here?”

Reeves glances at me. "The Illusions Museum is pretty cool. Lots of things to climb on and explore."

"What's an illusion museum?"

"Rooms that trick your eyes and make you think you're walking uphill when you're really walking downhill. Mirrors that make you look ten feet tall."

Benjy's eyes go wide. "Can we go? Please?"

Reeves refills my coffee without me asking. How long since someone paid attention to when my cup was empty?

"We could make a day of it. Lunch somewhere good after," Reeves offers.

"Yes! Can we, Mom? Please?"

I look at Benjy's hopeful face, then at Reeves watching me carefully, not pushing but not hiding what he wants either.

"Sure. That sounds fun."

Benjy bounces out of his chair, already talking about which shoes he’s going to wear. Reeves reaches down and ties one of them before Benjy even finishes asking.

I reach for the sunscreen at the exact moment Reeves points to Benjy's nose. Small things that shouldn't matter but do.

He glances at me, and I feel it, like we’re both noticing the same thing at the same time.

It's almost too perfect.

Benjy licks chocolateice cream from his fingers as we walk through the French Quarter, still vibrating with excitement from the museum.

"And the room where you walked on the ceiling! Did you see how I could walk on the ceiling, Mom? It looked like I was upside down but I wasn't really upside down."

"I saw that."

"That ride was so cool. How did they make it feel like we were flying?"