Page 288 of What We Brave
Reid's flat on his back in the dirt. Three kids piled on top of him. The girl with the missing teeth is standing on his stomach like she's conquered a mountain, and Reid's letting her, his arms spread wide, grinning up at the sky like an idiot.
Six months ago he couldn't get off the couch. Couldn't eat. Couldn't look at me without flinching. I did that to him. I took the brightest person I've ever known and—
No.Fuck that shit.
He jumps up and spins the girl around until she screams. A boy grabs his leg and hangs on while Reid drags him through the dirt.
He's okay. He's here and he's laughing.
And yeah, I was part of everything falling apart. But I've been putting in the work, day by day, to make things better. That counts for something.
I pick the level back up.
The post is solid. I move to the next one, pull the tape measure off my belt. Laine's Dad started the framing on the storage addition yesterday and the bones are good. Solid work for a guy his age. Careful cuts. Nothing flashy.
He's a good man. A man I can respect. And the fact that he's looking at me like I'm some kind of problem bothers me a fuck of a lot.
I mark the cut and reach for the saw.
"Blake! Blake, did you see that? She'slethal."
"Working."
"You're always working." Reid appears at my elbow, sweating through his shirt, dirt smeared across his jaw. He grabs my water bottle and drinks half of it before I can snatch it back. "Her name's Sofia. She wants to be a professional soccer player. I told her she already is."
"You tell everyone they already are whatever they want to be."
"Because it'strue." He drops onto the sawhorse I'm about to use. "What are we doing here?"
"I'm cutting a header. You're sitting on my sawhorse."
"I meant broadly. Existentially."
"Get off my sawhorse, Reid."
He doesn't move. Tips his head back, squinting at the sun, and finishes my water. I should be annoyed. I'm not. This is just — how it works. How it's always worked. Reid takes up space. I make room. Life is sure as fuck more interesting when he's around, though.
Without him, shit was darker.
I'd rather have the light.
Mary Mitchell comes around the corner with two glasses of iced tea, and a bag over her shoulder. She hands one glass to Reid, wholights up like she's handed him a winning lottery ticket. Then she hands one to me.
"I added a little extra sugar," she says.
I take it. So I've got a bit of a sweet tooth. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Mary," she corrects. Third time today. Then she unpacks some massive sandwiches, and she's gone.
I'd like to think this means she's forgiven us. That she can accept us into Laine's life, but I ain't that lucky. She's just a really nice woman.
"Dude, her sandwiches," Reid says, half reverent. "I don't know what she puts in them. I asked her. She saidlove and mayonnaise.Blake. I would commit actual crimes for that sandwich."
"It's a sandwich."
"It isnotjust a sandwich. Don't disrespect the sandwich." It is a really good sandwich. I'm glad she's great at something. Means Laine ate well when she was a kid. Because she wasn't joking, Mary's a shit cook.
"Drink your tea."
