Chapter 16 Charli
SIXTEEN
Charli
The Neighborhood: The route moves deeper into streets the deceased knew. The crowd grows denser the further in it goes.
The dashboard lights cast a soft glow across Reeves's hands on the steering wheel. He drives through the quiet residential streets while Benjy bounces in the back seat, still buzzing with energy from the beach.
"We need bigger sticks next time. Way bigger." Benjy clutches his flashlight, waving it around as he talks. "And we should dig deeper. Pirates probably have really deep treasure, right?"
"Probably," Reeves says.
"And we could make the sides stronger. Maybe use rocks to hold everything in place."
Reeves nods slightly. "Rocks would work. Pack sand around them so they don't shift."
Benjy immediately absorbs this like it's official military strategy. "Yeah! And we could disguise it better. Make it look like just regular beach stuff so the pirates don't notice."
"Smart thinking."
Watching from the passenger seat, I'm surprised by how easily the conversation flows. Reeves doesn’t talk down to him or try to impress him. He just listens and answers when the kid needs input.
"Maybe the pirates already moved their treasure again," Benjy continues. "Up in the dunes where it's really safe. We should check tomorrow."
Tomorrow again. That word keeps coming up.
"Could be," Reeves agrees.
I braced for awkward pauses and forced conversation after yesterday. Instead, Benjy talks to Reeves like this is the most normal thing in the world, and Reeves doesn’t try to take over. He just meets him where he is.
That catches me off guard.
"We could bring a shovel," Benjy suggests. "A real one, not just our hands."
"Tools help," Reeves says simply.
I study Reeves in the dim light, the way he considers each of Benjy's suggestions without dismissing any of them. I appreciate how he offers practical additions that make the whole plan sound more legitimate.
"He doesn't usually warm up to people this fast," I say, half-teasing.
Reeves shrugs. “He’s got a solid plan.”
That simple response says more than it should. Reeves isn't trying to win anyone over or prove he belongs here. He’s just treating Benjy’s enthusiasm as if it matters.
"Do you think we'll catch them this time?" Benjy asks.
"Hard to say. Depends on how clever they are."
The conversation gradually quiets as we turn onto my street. Benjy's energy finally starts to fade, his voice dropping to a more normal volume. The flashlight rests in his lap now instead of waving through the air.
Outside, familiar houses pass by with their porch lights glowing. The same neighborhood I've lived in for years.
But tonight shifts the whole picture.
Reeves isn’t just someone I used to love. He’s the man I thought I’d build a life with, who couldn’t, and now he’s sitting in the driver’s seat talking with my son like this is how it should be.
That realization hits me hard.
Reeves parks in our driveway and cuts the engine. The sudden quiet makes Benjy's yawns more obvious as he slumps against his seatbelt.
"That was the best recon mission ever," he mumbles, but his eyelids are getting heavy.
"You did good work out there," Reeves says, unbuckling his own seatbelt. I notice the small wince when he twists in the seat to look at Benjy.
“Could I use your restroom before I drive back?”He turns toward me, our faces suddenly only inches apart.
The question catches me off guard. Not because it's unreasonable, but because it means stepping into the space that's been just mine and Benjy's.
"Of course."
I climb out and wait while Benjy extracts himself from the backseat, still clutching his flashlight. He moves more slowly now, the beach adventure finally catching up with him.
“Down the hall, first door on the right,” I tell Reeves as we step inside.
He nods and disappears down the hallway without hesitation, like the house makes sense to him even though he’s never been here.
Benjy slips out of his shoes and then darts down the same hallway toward his room.
“I’ll be right back!”
I barely have time to close the door before he comes racing back with a book pressed against his chest. The edges are worn, and the cover is faded from being opened a hundred times.
“What’ve you got there?” I ask.
He holds it up proudly. A picture book about military helicopters. One of his favorites from the library.
“Reeves knows about these,” he says. “I want him to read it with me.”
My stomach tightens.
“Ben, it’s late. Reeves still has to drive back to New Orleans.”
His face falls just a little, but he doesn’t argue. He drops the book and clutches it against his side as he glances down the hallway.
Right then, Reeves steps back into the living room, drying his hands on a paper towel.
Benjy turns immediately.
“Will you read this with me?”
Reeves glances at the black military-looking watch on his wrist, then back at Benjy’s hopeful face.
“Not tonight, buddy. I’ve still got a long drive ahead of me.”
Benjy’s shoulders drop slightly, but Reeves continues.
“Maybe another time.”
Another time.
The words hang in the air between us. Benjy accepts them immediately, nodding like the promise is already locked in place.
“Okay. But next time we should definitely read it before we go to the beach. So we know more about helicopters and stuff.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
He’s already assuming there will be a next time.
My stomach tightens.
“Thanks for making the effort today,” I say, following Reeves onto the porch. “Benjy had a great time.”
The night air carries the salt smell of the Gulf, cooler now after sunset. Crickets chirp in the darkness while a few seconds of silence stretch between us.
“Kid's got good instincts,” Reeves finally says.
Benjy bounces onto the porch beside us, apparently not ready for the night to end.
“You’re coming back tomorrow, right? It's Saturday, so we can play all day!”
Reeves glances at me before answering.
“That’s up to your mom.”
Benjy looks at me immediately, waiting.
It's up to me? Are you fucking kidding me? I want to say yes. The word sits right there on the tip of my tongue.
But I can still hear Reeves’s voice from years ago, steady and certain. He said in no uncertain terms that he doesn't want a family or children. Forcing this wouldn't be good for any of us.
“Let’s get ready for bed, kiddo,” I say. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings.”
Reeves steps off the porch and walks toward his truck.
“Bye, Reeves!” Benjy calls as the driver’s door opens.
“See you later, buddy. I had fun this afternoon. Thanks for showing me all of your pirate traps.”
Benjy buzzes beside me.
Later. Not tomorrow. Later.
The engine turns over with a low rumble. Headlights sweep across the driveway as Reeves backs onto the street. Benjy waves until the taillights disappear around the corner.
Inside, I guide him through his nighttime routine. Teeth brushed. Pajamas on. One more story before bed.
As I tuck the covers around him, I can see his mind is still working on trap designs.
"Mom? Do you think Reeves knows a lot about ropes? From the military?"
"Probably," I say honestly.
"Good. We're going to need the strong kind."
The house grows quiet after I close his bedroom door. I move through my normal evening routine, but everything is slightly off balance.
In Benjy's version of today, Reeves isn't the stranger who appeared at the beach anymore. He's simply part of the mission. Part of the plan.
I hear the front door open and my heart stops for a split second before I hear my mom call out. "Yoo hoo."
"Mom! You scared the bejesus out of me."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I went on my walk a little later tonight and thought I'd stop by. How did everything go today and tonight? I've been dying to know. When I saw he was gone, I couldn't help myself."
We walk into the kitchen together and I pour myself a glass of water. "That's a loaded question."
"Are you okay? How did Benjy do?"
"Benjy's great."
"Does that mean you're not? I'm sure seeing him after all these years must be hard."
Mom folds a dish towel at the counter, smoothing the edges the way she always does. "I honestly don't know, Mom. I'm fine, I guess. It's just dredged up all kinds of things I thought were packed away."
"That is completely natural. Seeing your ex is hard enough. Your situation is infinitely more complicated."
"Benjy really took to him. Surprisingly, Reeves was a natural with him. It was sweet standing back and watching them. But it was also heart-wrenching."
"He was a natural? The man who said he never wanted children?"
"I know what he said." I search for the right words.
"But he was patient. He actually listened when Benjy talked.
You know how some adults, men especially, don't know how to talk to a child?
You'd think that would be the man who runs from all emotion and spends his days playing army. But he wasn't."
"Navy."
"Huh?"
"He's in the Navy, not the Army."
"Mom. It was a figure of speech."
"Anyhoo, that makes me happy to know he was able to connect with him. That's a good thing, right?"
"Yeah, I guess." I glance down at my glass. "Benjy was in heaven with him."
Mom leans against the opposite counter, studying my face. "Y'all didn't tell him, right? That was the plan."
"No. No, Reeves said he didn't have to know, and that was the best way to handle this. He can't know right now. That would complicate everything even more."
"Reeves is his father, honey."
The words hit me like cold water. Hearing it stated so plainly unmoors me, even though I know that more clearly than I know most things in my life.
His father.
Not the man who left. Not the person from my past. Not the complication I've been managing.
His father.
"I know that."
"Do you?"
Mom's voice is gentle but pointed. She's not pushing, just observing.
"I mean, intellectually I know. But before yesterday, he was just a sperm donor. Hell, he still is." I trail off, not sure how to finish that thought.
"I think after today, you and Reeves should discuss what he wants. Maybe it's nothing. But you're both adults. Based on what you're saying about today, it's worth discussing."
Tears well up, but I don't even know what I'm getting emotional about. Of course I'd love for Benjy to have an involved father. But I know Reeves. I know he can't handle staying.
I'm also not sure how I can handle this since it's obvious there are still some unresolved issues between us.
"That scares you," Mom says quietly.
I pick at my thumbnail. The kitchen grows quiet except for the dishwasher and the soft tick of the wall clock.
"A little," I finally admit.
I sink onto the couch and pull my knees up under my chin.
Mom’s words keep circling in my head.
For more than five years, the fact of his paternity has existed only as a biological detail I could tuck away and ignore. Tonight, it stood in my parents' kitchen, helped my son role-play on the beach, and listened to every word he said like it mattered.
Benjy took to him so easily it almost looked inevitable, like something that had been waiting to happen all along.
He’s already planning their next mission, assuming Reeves will be back tomorrow, like this is the start of something permanent.
What happens when Reeves leaves in a few days?
Mom says we should talk about it and figure out if Reeves wants more time with his son. Maybe there’s some kind of middle ground.
I’m not sure I’m ready for him to suddenly be part of our lives.
Seeing Reeves today stirred things I thought were long buried. The way he listened, the quiet way he stepped in beside Benjy, like it came naturally to him, opened a door in my heart I thought was long sealed.
I didn’t expect that.
The blue nightlight glows down the hallway where Benjy sleeps, probably dreaming about rope snares and pirate treasure. In his mind, tomorrow brings another adventure with someone who finally takes his ideas seriously.
But Reeves is leaving.
His deployment won’t wait for trap-building missions or helicopter books or five-year-old boys who think he hung the moon after one afternoon.
And if I’m not careful, Benjy won’t be the only one getting hurt when he goes.