I plastered on a smile and waved. Matilda wouldn’t be able to see my tears from the playground. The miniature wooden barnand slide installed by the farm shop were her favorite—when she could reach the top.
She waved from the bottom of the rope ladder. “Watch!” Her sneaker landed on the bottom rung. She easily climbed to about halfway, but her ankle twisted in the rope and flipped her around. She squealed, her tiny hands gripping for dear life.
I pushed off the bench and ran to help her, but Callan appeared from behind the farm shop. “Whoa there!” He dropped a box of seedlings at my feet and raced forward. “Need a boost?”
“No!” She glared at him. “Matilda do it!”
He backed away with his hands up. “Cool.” He leaned his shoulder against the climbing frame. “I’m going to hang out here for a bit to watch, okay? Pirates work with a lot of ropes, you know.”
Wide-eyed, Matilda nodded.
“Don’t encourage her,” I said.
“Why not? I could always do with more buccaneers on my crew.” He winked at me before reaching over to tickle her belly. “Isn’t that right?”
She giggled.
“Cal…” I warned.
His face softened with a lazy grin. I remembered that smile from when we were teenagers, and he’d tease me about jumping last into the river. “You’re just chicken,” he’d say, and I’d never deny it. I always needed to think everything over. The last one in the water… The last one fighting for my marriage…
I glanced at my phone.
Jeremy
I miss you.
Maybe…
I put my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and wandered closer.
The toe of Matilda’s sneaker wiggled, searching for the next rung of the rope ladder. Her bottom lip jutted out. She was stuck again. Her big brown eyes found Callan.
“Try putting your foot here,” he said, pointing to a safe spot. “And reach up big and tall for this one.” He tugged at the rope beside her head to show her the one he meant.
Up and up she went, following Callan’s instructions. She reached the top and declared, “Did it!” before toddling into the barn at the top.
“Thanks,” I said.
He grinned. “This scurvy old seadog is just happy to be useful for once.”
“You’re always good to have around, Cal.”
His smile flattened, and wordless, he bent over to grab the box of plants. The scowl was extra fierce on the scarred side of his face. He was upset about something.
“Everything…okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Bloody hell, Ez… Yeah. Did I just act like a dickhead?” He sighed. “It’s not you…”
“Want to talk about it?”
“You’ve got your own problems.”
“I like to think there’s enough room in our friendship for both of us to have problems.” And forgetting my own for a few minutes would be great. “What’s bothering you?”
“This.” His head jerked at the farm shop.
Confused, I glanced behind me. A fresh coat of paint had livened up the old wood, and I’d peeked through the window yesterday to check out the new displays and the updated cafe menu ahead of the shop reopening in the spring. What was the problem?
