When You're Back (Rosemary Beach #12)(40)

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.

Henry nodded. “He is. He’s the best.”

Once again, no mention of his mother.

It was time for me to admit to Henry that I had dyslexia, too. Sharing this with people wasn’t something I ever did. It was hard on me, but this little boy was going to share his story with the world. He was proud of what he could do while dealing with this challenge. There was no shame in being dyslexic.

“Henry,” I said, and he looked up at me as he chewed his food. “I have dyslexia, too.”

His little eyes went wide, and then a huge grin broke across his face. “I knew you were special,” he replied. “Just like me.”

Those words sank into my heart, and I knew they’d stay there forever.

Mase

It was well past lunchtime before Kiro came stumbling into the entertainment room, where I was sitting with Dean while he played on the Xbox. I had threatened to wake Kiro up several times, but each time, Dean shook his head and warned me I would just make things worse.

When Kiro’s bleary, bloodshot eyes saw me, he stopped. “Fuck,” he muttered, then walked toward the bar. That was my cue to stand up and do something.

“I’m here to talk, Kiro. I’d prefer to do that with you sober.”

He tried to shove me aside, but he was too hungover and weak. I didn’t budge. “My f*cking house, boy. Move out of my way!” he yelled.

I didn’t flinch. “Well, Harlow is my sister, and you upsetting her, stressing her out, and making her cry is my f*cking business. So sit your sorry ass down and listen to me.”