When You're Back
Page 39

 Abbi Glines

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Captain laughed and brought his gaze to mine. “Would you be OK with that, Reese?”
Like I was going to tell this kid no. He knew that. Dang him. “Of course,” I said through clenched teeth, then forced a smile as I picked up the box Captain had put in front of me.
“Great. I’ll grab the blanket out of the back of my truck,” Captain said. He headed out to his truck, leaving Henry and me with our hands full of food.
“He has a blanket in his truck?” I asked.
Henry nodded. “Yep. We look at stars on nights my daddy has to work too late.”
So Captain watched a little boy while his daddy worked. Not what I was expecting. That didn’t go with the image of Captain in my head.
“Kinsley went with us the other night. She was off work, and we got milkshakes and went to see the stars. But Kinsley didn’t like it much. She griped a lot.”
That didn’t say a lot about her character. I hoped Captain wouldn’t force her to be around Henry anymore. He didn’t need that. I wondered where Henry’s mother was, but it didn’t sound like she was around, so I didn’t ask.
“Got it. Lead the way, Henry. Take us to a prime picnic spot,” Captain said, grinning at the boy. I had never seen that grin on him before. It was real. It wasn’t calculated or planned. It wasn’t a bad smile.
Henry walked a short way from the stables and stopped where I assumed he couldn’t smell the horses anymore. He nodded his head to let us know we should settle here, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. I wanted to tuck it behind his ear, but I was sure he wouldn’t appreciate it.
Captain spread the blanket out for us, took the food from me, and placed it on the blanket while Henry laid out the food he had been carrying. Captain reached into his back pocket and tossed Henry a can of soda. Then he looked at me. “Got you one, too.”
He handed me the can, and I managed a “Thank you.” I sat with my legs crossed and placed the box of food he handed me in my lap.
“Ain’t gonna be easy eating fajitas out here. But it don’t stink, and it’s more fun,” Henry said, smiling at me.
“You’re right. It does smell better, and it’s a lot more fun. Besides, I eat in my office every day. This is a nice change.”
Henry looked at Captain. “She’s better than Kinsley. She knows what’s fun,” the boy said.
I didn’t look at Captain. Instead, I focused on my food. I had to get through this lunch. I would set Captain straight when Henry wasn’t with him. I didn’t know what his motives were for bringing the child here. Was he trying to manipulate me?
I didn’t trust him. This only justified that feeling.
I picked up my fajita and took a bite. I could see Henry’s eyes on me, waiting for a reaction.
“Mmmm, this is amazing. The best fajita I’ve ever had. You’re right, your daddy sure knows his stuff.”
Henry beamed, then turned to his own food and began eating.
I could feel Captain watching me, but I wasn’t going to look at him. I was going to eat this food and be nice to Henry, and then I was going to start locking my office door when Piper was out. No more Captain interruptions.
“Why don’t you tell Reese about the book you’re writing, Henry?” Captain said. I watched as Henry looked at him shyly, as if he was unsure. “She’ll love it, promise,” Captain encouraged him.
Henry finally turned his big brown eyes to me, and the freckles on his nose made his face even cuter. “Back in November, I won the spelling bee at my school. Then I went to a statewide spelling bee, and I won it, too. I’ll be going to the nationals in May.”
Wow. That was something to be proud of. At his age, I hadn’t even been able to write my name correctly. “That’s awesome!” I beamed at him. “You must be a very gifted speller.”
Henry glanced at Captain again before looking at me. “That’s why I’m writing a book. Because I’m dyslexic. That’s when you don’t always see words and numbers the way other people do,” he said, watching me closely.
The reason Captain had wanted me to meet Henry was now becoming clear. This hadn’t been some scheme. I nodded my head. “I know what dyslexia is,” I assured him.
He seemed relieved that he didn’t have to explain himself. “Lots of times, kids with dyslexia get ignored or believe they can’t do something. I want to tell them they can. My daddy and I spelled words every minute we had a chance to for months before those spelling bees. I think people with dyslexia can do anything they want to. They just have to believe in themselves.”
I felt emotion clog my throat. This little boy was going to live a full life. He’d never be told he was stupid, and he would have a chance to finish high school and get a college degree. I didn’t know his father, but I loved him. I loved that Henry wasn’t suffering what I had gone through. I put the unfinished fajita down and sniffled, trying not to cry. “That’s a wonderful thing to do, Henry. Kids and adults with dyslexia need to hear that message. They need to be inspired by your story.”
Henry was smiling from ear to ear now. “I think so, too. If it hadn’t been for my dad telling me I could do anything over and over, I don’t know if I’d have tried out for the spelling bee. But I wanted to, and he convinced me I could.”
I wanted that for all kids. It was heartbreaking to know that not everyone would get that kind of support in their lives or be told that nothing was wrong with them. Knowing they were capable of so much would do wonders for their self-esteem. “Your dad sounds like a very special man,” I said sincerely.