Page 316 of What We Brave
"I know, June-bug." I flip an egg. "Maybe someday."
The guest house. Eight months of work—framing, wiring, plumbing, finishes. Every evening and weekend I could spare. Reid helped when he could, but mostly it was me. My hands. My design. My gift to them.
To all of us.
I want David and Mary closer. Want them here for Sunday dinners and school plays and random Tuesday afternoons. Want the kids to know their grandparents as more than twice-a-year visitors. Want Laine to have her parents nearby.
Want to give them a reason to stay.
Iris bangs her sippy cup on the high chair tray. "Dada! Dada dada!"
"Daddy's coming, sweet pea. He's just?—"
"He's resting," Caleb says, matter-of-fact. "Because grown-ups need privacy."
I cough to cover a laugh. "That's right."
"Why do grown-ups need privacy?"
Kid's relentless. Gets that from Reid. He's a mirror image really. I wondered, for a minute if I would feel different about a kid that wasn't my blood. Turns out that was a dumb fucking thought. They're all my kids and whose DNA is in the mix doesn't matter at all.
"Eat your eggs, Caleb."
"Butwhy?"
"Because I said so."
He frowns. Doesn't buy it. Too smart for his own good.
"Grandma says 'because I said so' isn't a real answer."
"Grandma's not here yet. Eat your eggs."
He scowls but digs in, giving me a little time to regroup.
Reid and Laine emerge fifteen minutes later. Laine's glowing—cheeks flushed, hair still damp from the shower. Reid looks way too happy with himself.
"Fifteen minutes," I say under my breath as I hand Laine her plate.
"Twelve," she corrects, kissing my cheek.
"I'm putting that on my tombstone. 'Sacrificed so Reid could have twelve minutes.'"
Reid laughs, the sound easy and unburdened.
It hits me, sudden and sharp—the memory of him standing in this exact spot years ago, asking me if Laine being at the house more would be a problem. I told him I'd make myself scarce. I told him I wasn't the dinner party type. I thought I was doing him a favor, protecting him from my own rot.
If I'd actually left, if I'd let the guilt win... I never would have had this. I never would have known that I could be part of the happiness instead of just the guy watching it from the sidelines.
"Papa needs coffee," Reid says, grinning.
"Papa needs something." I give him a look. He grins wider.
"What does Papa need?" Caleb asks, because the kid has bat ears when it's inconvenient.
"Patience," Blake says smoothly. "Papa needs patience. And for certain people to stop talking."
"That's rude," Caleb informs him.
