Chapter 42 Charli
FORTY-TWO
Charli
The Wire: In New Orleans, not all of the procession is in person. Some of it travels ahead, carried across distance, arriving before the person does.
My phone lights up on the kitchen counter at eight forty-three on a Wednesday night, long after Benjy is asleep and the dishes are done, and I've run out of ways to keep myself busy.
I look at the name on the screen for two full rings before I pick up. I’m still not used to seeing Reeves’s name on my screen, even though he and Benjy have been FaceTiming religiously at least once a week.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey." His voice has that particular quality it gets on overseas calls, slightly flattened, a half-second delay. It makes the conversation seem like it's happening across something larger than just miles. "Is it too late?"
"No. Benjy's down." I carry the phone to the back porch and pull the door closed behind me. The night air is warm and still. "Where are you?"
"Still over here. But not for much longer." A pause. "That's actually why I'm calling. I wanted to give you some notice instead of just showing up."
I sit down in the wicker chair and pull my knees up. “Okay.”
“I’ve decided to take the medical leave the Navy is offering me. I've got some things to close out in Virginia after, so I probably have another month or two..” Another pause. “I’m moving back to New Orleans."
“Oh, wow,” I say.
The reaction comes out neutrally, which is where I want it. I knew the shoulder issue was on the table, but I honestly never thought he would leave the military.
I’ll have to get used to the idea of him being back so close permanently, but I'm not panicking. Yet. He's Benjy's father. That geography makes sense regardless of anything else.
"I want to see him regularly,” Reeves says. "As much as you'll let me. I know I've got a lot of ground to make up, and I'm not expecting you to hand that over all at once."
"I know you do." I watch a moth circle the porch light. “It will be good for him.”
The line is quiet for a beat. “Thank you, Charli. I know this is a lot, and it’s all happening so fast.”
“He talks about you a lot. You being closer will be a good thing.”
As I say this, my shoulders drop. It’s true, but it’s also bittersweet.
"What does he talk about?”
“He asks when you're coming back. Whether you've caught any pirates lately." I pause. "He drew a picture of your Hummer last week and put it on the refrigerator."
Reeves doesn't say anything to that, and I don't push him to. Some things don't need a response.
"I've been thinking," he says finally, "about what makes sense once I'm back. Not jumping straight into something big. Just time with him. Regular, consistent time so he knows he can count on it."
"That's the right instinct," I say.
"If there's a break coming up from school, I could try to plan my time after I get back and before I go back to Virginia to close out. Just the two of us." He stops. "Nothing crazy. I just want him to have something to look forward to that's ours."
I turn that over for a moment.
“If you’re about six weeks out, that might work out, then. He was just off, so break after next could line up.”
"Yeah. I checked the school calendar." A beat. "I hope that's okay."
The fact that he checked instead of just assuming lands the right way. I file that away without commenting on it.
"He's never been away from me for more than a night," I say. "Sleepovers with my parents, that's the extent of it. I don't know how he'd handle more than that."
"Then we start with a night," Reeves says. "See how he does."
"Maybe two," I say. "If the first one goes well. But I'd want to know what you're thinking before we commit to anything. What you're planning, where you're going, how to reach you."
"Of course." No hesitation. "You tell me what you need from me on that, and I'll make it happen."
I nod even though he can't see it.
This is the part I've been working out in my head for five weeks.
Not whether to let him in, because that was never really a question once I got honest with myself about it.
Benjy deserves to know his father. Reeves is showing up.
Those two facts don't leave a lot of room for my own complicated feelings to run the decision.
The question has always been how. How to do this in a way that protects Benjy if something goes sideways. How to build something real instead of something that looks good for a few weeks and then falls apart when the logistics get hard.
"We're not telling him yet," I remind him. "Not until you're back and settled and we both agree the time is right."
"I know. That's your call. I’m totally fine with that.”
"It's both of ours," I say. "But I'll take the lead on it."
"Okay," he says. Simple and clean.
The moth is still working the porch light, bumping against the glass in small, persistent arcs. I watch it for a moment.
"He's a tender boy, Reeves. We have to always protect that about him.”
"I know he is." His voice shifts slightly, quieter. "You did that."
I don't argue with it or deflect it. I let it sit there, because it's true and I've earned it. For once, I'm not going to talk myself out of accepting it.
"Send me your schedule when you have it," I say. "And when you know what you're thinking for the trip, send me that too. We'll talk through it before anything gets decided."
"I will."
"Okay." I stand and move back toward the door. “I’m going to turn in.”
“Sleep tight.”
I click the line without responding. It’s best that way.
I stand in the kitchen for a minute with the phone in my hand before I set it on the counter. The house is quiet around me, the way it gets this late.
I think about the school calendar pulled up on his phone, the fact that he looked before he called instead of after. I think about that's your call, and the way he said it, like he meant it all the way down.
Then I turn off the kitchen light and go to bed.