Page 47 of On the Shelf

She squinted at him. “What’s that mean?”

“We got these branches, right? Still got no leaves on them. That means after it’s all sealed we have to add leaves to each branch, every twig, one at a time. It will take a while, but that way you get to decide where it’s bushy and where it’s bare. Like Mother Nature.”

Winnie grinned and nodded. “Is it too soon for our chess rematch?”

Chuck looked to Niall. Niall nodded, a nod that meant yes, come to dinner, come home with us, stay.

“Never too soon for chess,” Chuck told Winnie. “I’ve been practicing in my head all day, plotting my revenge.”

“You’re still going to lose,” Winnie informed him with cheerful confidence. “I’m really good.”

“We’ll see about that, squirt.” He looked at Niall, eyebrows raised as he nodded at her. “STEM kid, right here. You watch. By high school for sure.”

“Stem?” Winnie wrinkled her nose. “Like a flower? Gross.”

“No, STEM is an acronym. Science. Technology. Engineering. Math. It means you’re well on your way to being a budding evil genius. Which… no duh.”

She loved that and raised her arms in tiny, wicked triumph. “Mwa ha ha ha!”

So of course Chuck did his evil laugh back—sort of a rumbling cackle.

She stood and pointed at Chuck like a miniature supervillain. “Mwa ha ha ha haaa.” Then they were both laughing at each other like evil STEM geniuses.

Watching them goof off together—Chuck’s easy manner with Winnie, her unquestioning acceptance of his presence—Niall grinned at the two of them like a sap and didn’t bother fighting it. Whatever Helen thought she knew, this was worth the risk.

As they closed up the store and headed home, Niall found himself thinking about the treehouse—how it had started as a simple idea, a “maybe someday” promise to placate Winnie, and had evolved into something real and substantial, even important—an anchor for the store, bolted through the studs and going nowhere.

What had begun as a temporary arrangement—fixing the roof, distracting each other—had turned into a chess set left mid-game on the kitchen table.

At home, Winnie immediately set up the chessboard while Niall started dinner. Chuck moved around the kitchen with growing familiarity, setting the table, pouring drinks, falling into the domestic rhythm as if he’d been part of it for years instead of days.

“You seem happy,” Niall noted, when Winnie was momentarily distracted by a phone call from her friend Sasha.

“I am.” Chuck blinked. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

“Because you turned down the job?” Niall asked because he had to, still trying to understand the magnitude of Chuck’s choice.

“Because I stopped running.” Chuck leaned against the counter, his expression thoughtful. “All my life, I’ve been chasing the next thing, the next place, the next relationship. Always looking for something better, something more exciting. Never staying long enough to build anything real.”

“And now?”

“Now I want to build a life.” Chuck’s gaze was steady, certain. “With you. With Winnie. Here in this weird little town.”

The spoon went still in his hand. “I want that too,” he sighed. “I’ve spent six years playing it safe, afraid to risk anything because I couldn’t bear the thought of more disappointment, more loss. But with you….”

“With me?”

“With you, I want to take the risk.” Niall set down the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the sauce and turned to face Chuck. “I want to leap before I look for once in my life.”

Chuck’s smile lit his face. “I like the sound of that.”

Winnie came back in with the chessboard already set up for the promised rematch. Dinner would have to wait a few minutes, Niall decided, content to watch as Chuck and Winnie settled into their game, their heads bent over the board, their concentration equally intense.

This felt like family—imperfect and risky, held together by a roof patch, a chess set, and a kid’s impossible treehouse.

Helen’s warnings echoed faintly in his mind, but they seemed less urgent now, less convincing in the face of Chuck’s clear commitment and Winnie’s obvious joy. Maybe Chuck wasn’t the delinquent who drove a car through a gym anymore. Maybe Niall wasn’t the man who flinched at every open door.

Chuck had made his choice. Now, watching him with Winnie, feeling the warmth of his presence in their home, Niall was making his.