Joel sits on the porch, focusing on the fishing net on his lap. Beside him, your son watches, small brows furrowed as he tries to follow the movements. Joel’s no stranger to fixing up things, but sharing his knowledge with the boy is new.

When Tommy first asked him to help you and your boy settle in after you arrived in Jackson, he’d almost said no. Turns out, it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought. Your kid reminds him of Sarah in little ways. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking like this—nor get attached. But the more time he spends with the boy, the more he feels what he once thought was gone for good.

With you it’s different, though. Feelings he doesn’t know if he has any right to.

“There, all done.” Your son gives Joel a big grin and holds the net up like he’s just won some prize. Joel huffs out a laugh, and gives the boy a small nod of approval. He doesn’t waste a second, hopping up and taking off toward the yard.

Joel glances at you on the other end. You’re sitting on that bench he built for you—didn’t even ask if you wanted it, just showed up a few days ago with wood and nails and got to work. It’s been years since he’s felt anything like this, and he isn’t sure what to make of it. He’s careful around it, like handling something that might slip through his fingers.

He walks over to you, clearing his throat a little as he stops by the bench. “You got a good kid there,” he says. There’s something he’s been mulling over since he started spending time with you and your son, but the words feel too big, too heavy.

Joel’s not a man of many words, and this—whatever this is between you—feels like a fragile thing he’s afraid to break.