Page 41 of Learning at 40

Clearly, he isn’t, but I don’t want to discuss the blatant denial with him. I just want to hold him. Zack needs to know not everyone will walk away and not everyone will take advantage of him. Most of all, I want him to know I don’t judge him for something outside his control.

“I still want to hold you.” I stare up at him, willing him to look me in the eye before he walks away. If it’s that easy to run, then he isn’t the man I think he is. He’s just preached poetic about abandonment, but he needs to understand you can abandon people right in front of you. You can be physically present but not be a participant, and Zack needs to be present. With his sons. With me.

As he stares back at me, he must read my thoughts or see something in my expression that tells him not to walk away. He folds down to the chaise, and I extend my arm out for him, suggesting he curls into my chest. He wraps his body around mine like a drowning man clinging to a buoy. His leg slips over both of mine, and his arms circle my waist. His head tucks into my shoulder, and I stroke his hair until he grows heavy against me.

Pressing a kiss to his head, I consider how we’re all still children inside no matter how separate we feel from our parents. No matter how old we get. We’re still someone’s child, and the effects of that experience can haunt us, or comfort us, the rest of our lives.

15

[Zack]

River works the late afternoon shift, which ends near midnight. The boys and I spend the morning fishing and then the remainder of the day on final touches for the tree house. I really thought we were done the other day, but we had some trim pieces, and Mason wanted to check something with the roof.

“Looks good, man,” Mason says to me. “So does that smile.”

“What smile?” I ask, glancing from the tree fort to my friend.

“The one on your face since you’ve met River.”

“I’m not smiling,” I argue, biting my lower lip to fight the curl.

“It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Falling in love.” Mason’s words surprise me. I’d like to argue he doesn’t know the feeling, cite that he’s never been in love before, but I know that’s not true. As much as I always thought he loved Anna, and Ben recognized it too, Mason never admitted the truth until last summer after too much tequila.

I could argue that I’m not falling in love with River, but I know I’m doing something. Falling might be a good analogy for the sensation, but Ben wanted me to fly in love—whatever the hell that means.

“You know, my card from Ben said to fly in love. Have any idea what he meant?”

“I think it’s cheating if I try to help you solve the Ben-letter mystery.” Mason chuckles like he does know what Ben intended. “But I will say, falling sounds negative. We fall from grace. We trip; we fall. It’s a downward effect. Flying sounds like . . .” Mason looks overhead. “Like soaring above the clouds or floating through the sky. It’s upward. It’s high.” He waves his hand through the air.

“Are you high?” I question, narrowing my eyes at him.

“No.” He snorts. “You asked me a question. I answered. Don’t be a dick.”

I turn in the direction of my boys, waiting to hear them reply. Thankfully, they’re too busy making up adventures in the tree fort.

“Too bad the tree house is here, and you live there.” Mason waves a hand toward the great, wide yonder. Detroit is on the other side of the state, more than three hours away.

“Yeah, it’s not like I can tell the boys to go to River’s and play for a bit.”

Mason nods. “Be sad to leave this behind, especially when you want to play with her, too.”

I’m not playing her. “You heard her. The tree house will remain, and she’ll guard over it for them.”

“Until she meets a man, has her own kids, and lets them play in that fort instead.”

My head swivels to where Oliver looks through the telescope out at the lake and Trevor points at something above it. Will River marry again? She mentioned how she held out hope that one day she’d be a mother. She’s only thirty-eight. That isn’t too old. Suddenly, I imagine a little girl running around this backyard with gold-colored hair like her mother and blue eyes that match the sky. In a long, flowing dress, she giggles as she swings on the addition to the fort.

“You okay?” Mason startles me, clapping me on the shoulder, and I realize I’m rubbing at my chest.

“I’m good.”

“Okay.” He nods. “As Thing One and Thing Two are busy, think we can chat a bit about that second property at Lake Liberty.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, glancing back at my boys lost in their wonderland and missing a little girl who doesn’t exist but needs to join their adventure. “Yeah, let’s talk business.”