Page 113 of Rhodes

He goes still with the seriousness of it, chin dug into my shoulder. I bite back a smile.

“How did you do it?"

"I went too fast on my dirt bike, and hit a rock, and BAM! That’s why you should always go slowly.”

"Whoa. Did it hurt?"

"Yes. It was awful." I set him down on a stool. He climbs right back up my arm.

"Do all your fingers point wrong?"

"Just the one."

"Did you cry?"

"A little."

"Benjy." Charli slides a plate onto the table. "Let him breathe."

Reeves flips the last pancake onto the stack and carries it over. Everybody sits, and I join them even though no one told me to, because there's a plate in front of me.

Benjy keeps going with his endless questions. I answer him. Sometimes I pull his leg with a fib just because I can, like when I say the truck is a nine-cylinder, which isn't a thing. He squints at me, and Reeves catches it but keeps his mouth closed.

Charli's watching me over her coffee. She saw it the second I came through the door but doesn't ask. Refilling my cup instead, she then pushes the syrup closer.

The pancakes are good. I say so, but it comes out too flat, and there's a small quiet where my usual ease usually goes.

When I finish the pancakes I didn't even realize I needed, I set the fork down.

"You got time to walk?"

Reeves opens his mouth to answer, but Charli beats him to it.

"Go on," she says, standing, gathering plates. "Both of you. I've got the dishes."

"You sure?”

"Absolutely. Ben and I want to paint, and the baby will be out for at least an hour. Go ahead."

She kisses him before he unties the apron and hangs it on a hook beside the pantry. Then he grabs a shirt off the back of his chair on the way to the door.

We walk down the street to the path at the end. It's paved and narrow, the trees leaning in close on both sides so the light comes down in pieces.

We're not twenty feet past the last fence post before Reeves says it.

"What's going on with you? College kids don't wake up this early on a Saturday and drive an hour out of the city for pancakes."

My boots are loud on the pavement. A dog barks somewhere off to the left and quits. "I fucked up."

Reeves keeps walking without looking over. That's how talks with Reeves go. He doesn't ever make it easy or pull things out, making me give it to him.

"A while back, Cain copied me on an email with a guy at the Corps of Engineers, the federal agency that manages wetland preservation. We had a development going in next to one of our facilities, and Cain wanted it slowed until they sorted out an erosion issue. This guy got the right people looking at it immediately."

"Uh, huh."

"I thought I'd see if I could do the same for Tallulah." Saying it, I hear how simple I made it in my head. "So I found his contact and emailed him about Oak Moss."

"You didn’t?”