Page 287 of What We Brave

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He's quiet. Then: "Good work."

He walks away.

Two words. That's probably all I'm going to get for a long time.

Good work.NotI accept you.NotI understand.Notwelcome to the family.

But for now, it's enough.

Across the site, Laine is on the scaffolding measuring the next section. Reid is below her, holding the tape end, squinting up with his hand shading his eyes.

"Fourteen and three-eighths," Laine calls down.

"Fourteen and three-quarters."

"Three-eighths, Reid."

"That's what I said."

"It literally isn't."

"Are you sure? Because I feel like?—"

She groans, but there's a giggle under it. He's fucking ridiculous, and he's doing it on purpose. Making her laugh. "Read me the number on the tape."

A pause. "...Three-eighths."

"Thank you."

"In my defense, those little lines are very small."

She pushes the hair out of her face with the back of her wrist. Looks over at me across the dusty, half-built space, smiling that soft smile.

You okay?

I nod.

She holds my gaze. One second. Two.

Yeah. I'm okay.

53

BLAKE

Iwipe my forearm across my forehead and check the level again. Still off. I shim the post, check again. Better.

Behind me, Reid's explaining the rules of soccer to a group of kids who clearly already know the rules of soccer.

"Okay, okay — no, listen. You can't justkick it at my face.There are rules. There areGeneva Conventionsabout this."

The kids don't care. A girl — maybe eight, missing her front teeth — drills the ball straight into Reid's shin.

"Oh, that's how it is? That's how we're doing this?"

The laughter hits first. Reid's — loud, stupid, full-body. Then the kids, high and shrieking, layered on top. It cuts through the heat and the sawdust and I'm grinning before I know it.

I set the level down. Turn around.

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