Page 87 of Reeves

"Hey, Benjy. See this board here?"

I point to the loose plank.

"Does anyone know about this?"

He glances over without much interest.

"PopPop said he'd fix it. But he probably forgot." He has no interest in the board or if and when it's getting fixed. He goes right back to his coloring.

The casual way he says it makes my stomach tighten. A five-year-old climbing up here every day on a ladder that could give way without warning.

Hell no.

I climb down faster than I went up, the one loose slat shifting even more than when I climbed up. Charli watches from across the yard as I walk back toward her.

"We need to talk about that treehouse."

She steps closer, following my gaze toward the structure.

"What about it?"

I gesture toward the loose board I just discovered.

"There's a board up there that probably needs to be replaced. Or, at the very least, it needs to be secured. He could get caught on it, or it could come up. Either way, since he's spending so much time up there, I could fix it while we wait for my clothes."

Charli moves closer to examine what I'm talking about, stepping under the oak tree's shade. She cranes her neck to look up at the platform.

"I don't see anything from down here."

"That board on the left side. And now that I'm thinking about it, one of the ladder rungs shifts when you put weight on it."

She takes another step forward, still looking up, and nearly walks straight into me. I reach out automatically and catch her wrist to steady her before she bumps into me.

The contact stops us both.

Her skin is warm under my fingers. Soft. Real in a way that cuts through all the careful distance we've been maintaining since I showed up in her life again.

Let go.

But I don't. Not immediately.

She looks down at my hand on her wrist, then up at my face. Something passes between us that has nothing to do with treehouse repairs or parenting decisions. Something that feels dangerous.

This is why I need to leave.

I release her and step back, putting space between us.

"The repair should be simple. Just needs a couple of screws, maybe a metal bracket to reinforce that board. If you have a hardware store, I can run and get the materials."

"You don't have to worry about it. I'll ask my dad to take a look when he has time."

"I don't mind.”

She pauses, considering, but doesn't protest. I'm not sure if she wants me to do things for them. For her. But I'm here. And I guess there's a paternal element in me that wants to do this for my son.

“I’ll run to the hardware store,” I say. “Pick up what we need. Won’t take more than twenty minutes.”

“Reeves, you really don’t need to go out of your way.”