Page 13 of Done

It was my turn to blush, realizing that he was admitting his ruse. His willingness to chop down a tree to stay made my heart warm to the fact that he was there in the first place.

“We’re all good,” I shrugged. “That fence being fixed will make it easier to let Max play outside, and that’s all I care about.”

Easton nodded, then looked around like he was trying to think of another job he could do. “How about?—?”

“Fire truck!” Max’s screech of excitement interrupted Easton, and his face morphed into a huge smile.

“Hey buddy, yeah, I came on the fire truck.”

Once Max realized Easton was there, he stood and kept pointing, repeating “fire truck” and jumping up and down. I wasn’t shocked that he was excited, but I hadn’t expected him to run toward Easton and hug his leg.

Easton was frozen, his eyes wide, unsure how he should respond. But once he caught my gaze and I gave him a slight nod, he relaxed and squatted to Max’s height.

“It'sgood to see you too, my man. You love fire trucks, don’t ya?”

Max nodded. I didn’t expect him to say much because he never did, so I was surprised again when I heard three precious words from his sweet mouth.

“I love trucks!”

“Me too!” Easton responded. “Especially fire trucks.”

“Me too!” Max ran from Easton and toward his coloring book, grabbing and holding it up for Easton to see. “This truck!”

It was a picture of an 18-wheeler and Max had scribbled different colors across it on the page.

“Those are the best trucks,” Easton nodded, sounding more serious than before. “They travel through town sometimes and honk.”

“Beep, beep,” Max laughed, before lowering his head back down to color again.

The entire exchange had me entranced. Max wasn't incapable of speaking, he just chose not to, especially to strangers. Seeing him take to Easton so quickly had me searching for words that just wouldn't come.

“Hey,” Easton finally said, lowering his voice so only I could hear him. “You okay?”

“Um,” I laughed humorlessly, then cleared my throat. “Of course.”

There was a soft touch to my elbow and I looked down to see the tips of Easton’s fingers touching my skin. He pulled back as if he had just noticed the contact, then leaned down and asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t mean to over?—”

“I promise I’m fine,” I nodded. Then to reassure him, I explained. “He just doesn’t talk much. I know he’s only three, but he’s always so quiet.”

“Nothing brings a man out of his shell like truck-talk.” Easton raised his hands in the air and shrugged as if his words were a no-brainer. “My guy here knows that some things aren’t worth talking about. Trucks are.”

“You’re probably right,” I smiled, then looked back at my son. “Thanks for talking trucks with him, then. He needs some bro-time.”

Instantly, I regretted my words. They were supposed to be in jest and playful, but it gave Easton a peek behind a curtain that I rarely let anyone see. Thankfully, he didn’t use that opening for anything more, and started walking toward the door.

“I have just a little bit left on this fence. Start thinking of something else I can do.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” I reminded him.

He turned, with his hand on the doorknob, and glanced down at Max before looking back up at me. “Yeah, I do. Just doesn’t feel done yet.”

Chapter Eight

EASTON

The more Iwas around Jesse, the more I wanted to know everything about her. But I was having trouble just coming out and saying it for some reason. She seemed complicated, and it was a situation I was navigating for the first time. I couldn’t keep being coy, though. The more I walked around the house, the more I realized West’s contractor had done a great job. That meant I couldn’t linger with odd jobs until I grew some balls.

“Hey,” I knocked gently on the door, just in case Max had laid down for his nap. “All done.”

---