Calmly, Carefully, Completely(77)

“I didn’t realize we were playing, sir,” I start.

He holds up a hand to stop me. “My daughter likes you a lot, and that’s the only reason I tolerated you this week.”

“Um,” I start. But he shuts me up again with a hushed breath.

He raises the hatchet, and I step to the side. “But I swear to God that if you do anything to hurt my daughter, I will chop off your head right after I chop off your nuts.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her, sir,” I say.

But he shushes me again. “When you get back to the city and there’s no dad with a hatchet waiting to emasculate you, you remember that I am just a phone call away. Do you understand?”

“Clearly,” I say.

“That’s all I wanted to say.” He heaves a deep breath and blows it out. “It was nice to meet you, Pete. Hope you have a good life if I never see you again.”

He walks away, swinging his hatchet. Shit. I wasn’t expecting that.

Phil whistles as he walks out from behind a tree. “Thought he had you there for a minute,” he breathes. He grins and shakes his head.

“Do you know what that was about?” I ask, jerking my thumb toward Mr. Caster.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Maybe.”

“Care to share?” I ask.

“He’s a dad and you’re a young man who likes his daughter. He knows it, and it smarts when a dad has to share his daughter’s affection. He has been her protector his whole life, and now she’ll start to look toward someone else to fill that role. Maybe even you.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How would you feel if it was you?” he asks. He pretends to be busy stacking chairs just like I am, but he’s astute and I know it.

“I’d be f*cking ecstatic,” I say.

“Are you going to see her when you go back to the city?” he asks. I lift my pant leg and remind him of the ankle bracelet I’m wearing. He grins. “I have a feeling that’s not going to stop her.”

“I hope not.” I take a deep breath. “I like her, Phil,” I admit. “I might even be falling in love with her.”

He stops and looks me dead in the eyes. “That scares you?” he asks.

I laugh. “Quite the opposite actually,” I admit. I feel hopeful. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.

“What’s your plan when you get back, Pete?” he asks.

I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket. He told me to write my plans down. To make them real. So, I did. I start to read. “One—work things out with Sam. Two—decide what my future will be. Will it be college? Will I get a job? Will I decide what I want to be when I grow up?” I close the paper and put it back in my pocket.

“Nice,” he says, nodding his head.

“Do you think I could do what you do?” I ask. “You get to help a lot of boys.”

He nods. “I think you’d be really good at what I do.”

“I might be able to keep some boys from ending up in my situation.”

He nods. “That’s a pretty good goal to have. I’d be happy to help you decide if you want that. You could even come to work with me for a few days and see if it interests you.” He looks around camp. “Most of my work isn’t quite this glamorous, unfortunately. It’s a lot of work at the prison and the youth detention center.”

I nod. I might like that.

“You know how to reach me when you get home.”

I do. And I will. I go back to stacking chairs until I see Reagan striding in my direction. She’s smiling, and her hair is loose and blowing around her face in the wind. She brushes it back with her hand and grins at me. “Hi, Pete,” she says. She shuffles her feet and looks down nervously. “Did I just see my dad come talk to you?” she asks. “With a hatchet?”