“This is the anti-ventilation plate,” Caleb says, holding a rectangular piece aloft. His voice is gentle and patient—wildly different from the one I hear at work. “Ventilate means let air out. You don’t want to let the air or gas out near the propellers.”
“Because it will make them slow,” Henry says, his words so exact and precise that I have to swallow hard to fight the lump in my throat.
Caleb glances at me just as I blink my tears away and points to a toolbox that sits on the back stairs to his deck, holding a screwdriver in the air. “Can you go up and get me the other one?” he asks Henry. “If you bring it back, I’ll let you put this together.”
Henry nods eagerly and runs across the yard. He looks so normal, like a kid excited to go to a party or say hi to his friends. Except Henry’s never been excited for those things. This is a first.
I force my gaze away from him and back to Caleb. “Thank you. Henry doesn’t…engage with a lot of people. This is different for him.”
Caleb glances up at me and back to the engine. It takes a moment for him to speak. “He’s extremely bright. A lot like a cousin of mine, actually.”
Is he trying to tell me something about Henry, or was it a meaningless aside? I bite down on the questions that follow. Is your cousin happy? Does he have friends and a family and a good life? Will Henry have those things too?
I’m not sure I want to know the answers.
Henry runs between us with the screwdriver, and I glance toward the house. I won’t ruin this for my son, even if I have to drag Sophie outside by the ankles. “I’ve got to get Sophie. We’ll just be up on the deck?”
Caleb nods at Henry. “I’ll send him back to you when we’re done. I could use the help.”
And there it is, on Henry’s face, another ghost of pleasure. It’s a small thing, but it’s a bridge—the first sign of him reaching out beyond me and Sophie. And it’s Caleb, of all people, who made it happen.
From the deck, I watch the two of them standing side by side. Henry reaches up and pulls one part loose from the other, then smiles at Caleb.
He would never do that with Jeremy—he wouldn’t approach, he wouldn’t try, he wouldn’t smile—because he’d know it wasn’t safe. He’d know he was more likely to be ridiculed, to be told he’s failed, than any other outcome.
The answer I’ve been seeking floats silently to the surface, though I think it was there all along:
What I owe my children isn’t the biggest house or the fanciest trips. What I owe them is simply a place where they feel safe, where they’ll be accepted for exactly who and what they are.
And that place will never be with Jeremy.
13
LUCIE
The man hovering near my cubicle Friday morning is blond and attractive—if you put him in a lineup of Hemsworth brothers, he’d fit right in, and he grins with the confidence of a guy who is well aware he looks like a Hemsworth too. “I’m Wyatt Smith. Kayleigh said you were back here.”
“You’re the marathoner,” I reply, forcing myself to return some version of his smile though I can’t imagine what he wants from me. “I’ve heard about you.”
He shrugs. “Yep. I’m the troublemaker. That’s kind of why I’m here. I figured I should take myself out of the running for the grand prize. I’d rather be the hero than the guy everyone hates.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
His mouth curves on one side. “But I do have an ulterior motive, actually.”
I sigh. Of course you do. At least, unlike Jeremy, he’s admitting it.
“I thought showing you what a super guy I am might convince you to go out with me.”
I freeze. I haven’t been asked out in years. Hit on, sure, usually by married dads at St. Ignatius or Jeremy’s gross fraternity brothers. And it’s what I want, isn’t it—another shot at the fairy tale? He’s as good a candidate as any. I don’t know why I’m more horrified than pleased.
“I…but you’ve never seen me before,” I stammer.
He laughs. “Everyone in the building has seen you. You’re kind of the talk of the fourth floor.”
I’m shaking my head no before I’ve even formed a response.
There’s nothing wrong with this guy, but something inside me says no. No, this one isn’t your prince.
“I just…I have kids, and I’m recently separated. I haven’t even filed for divorce. So I’m not ready to date.”