Page 50 of Reeves

She looks back at me. “That’s a lot.”

“I know.”

“How did he react?”

“I told him last night, so I don’t even think it has fully hit him yet.” I watch Benjy scoop wet sand into his bucket. “He asked questions about Benjy, but it was very brief and surface.”

Mom is quiet for a second.

“So, what now?”

“He wants to meet him.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I need time to think about it.”

Benjy runs past us again, grinning, then drops to his knees near the edge of the water. The tightness between my shoulders has been there since last night and still has not let up.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say. “Benjy’s whole life is here with me and y'all. Same house. Same routine. Same people. Now, all of a sudden, this man who has never been around wants to walk into it.”

We start walking again, slower this time. Mom keeps her eyes on Benjy.

“He said he just wants to meet him, right?”

I know exactly what she means, and I know it's not that simple.

“For now,” I say. “He said Benjy doesn't have to know who he is.”

Mom nods once.

“Well, that part is probably smart.”

I look over at her.

“He’s leaving again in a week,” I say.

A seagull flies overhead, cawing as he does. The sound of seagulls usually eases me. Today it doesn’t.

Mom stares out over Benjy for a second before she looks back at me.

“Well,” she says gently, “that does ease the expectation a little.”

“How?”

“If he’s leaving that soon, then whatever happens doesn’t have to turn into some big, permanent thing overnight.”

I shake my head. “I don't know, Mom.”

She takes a deep breath, but doesn't respond.

“What if Benjy meets him and gets attached? What if he attaches to him, and then Reeves disappears for months or even years?”

Mom doesn’t answer right away. She keeps her eyes on Benjy, who is crouched near the water digging with intense concentration.

“You’re thinking about how it felt when he left you,” she says quietly.

The words land because they’re true.