Page 29 of See It Through

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Page 29 of See It Through

Footsteps approached, but they were too light to be Caleb. I cracked an eye open, spotting the outline of a boy coming toward me. He stopped a foot or two away, his hands on his hips.

“Who’re you?” he asked.

“I’m Remi. Who might you be?”

“Jesse Kelly. This is my ranch, you know.”

“Ah. You’re Caleb’s boy.” Jesse nodded, confirming this as fact, though there was no denying it. Even with my vision gone to crap, I was able to make out Caleb’s face duplicated on his son. “I’ve known your dad since we were younger than you are.”

“That’s crazy. I’ve never even seen you before.” Despite his doubt, he plopped down on the hay bale next to me.

I let my eyes fall closed again. If this kid thought it was strange I wasn’t looking at him; he didn’t point it out.

“I’ve been gone,” I explained.

“Where’d you go?”

“All over the world. I take pictures for a living.”

“Like…for magazines—models and stuff?”

“Some of my pictures are in magazines, but they’re not of models. I document events in the world, like wars, famines, natural disasters. It’s a type of journalism.”

“So you take pictures of sad stuff.”

Damn. He’d whittled my career into the simplest of terms, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah. It’s not all sad, but there are a lot of bad things that happen in the world, and it’s important everyone knows about them.”

I opened an eye again to see his reaction. He was thoughtfully nodding.

“Ms. Clark—she’s the librarian—has a quote hanging behind her desk. It goes, ‘Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.’ It’s kinda like your job is to make sure people don’t repeat the sad stuff, right?”

Before I could figure out how to answer his profound observation—in an age-appropriate way—Caleb’s voice cracked the air.

“Tell me you’re not talking that man’s ear off, Jess.”

Jesse shook his head. “Nope. He was talking to me. Is it true this guy’s your friend?”

Caleb laughed as he tossed me an ice pack. “Kid, if you doubted what he was telling you, why’re you sitting so close to him?”

Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. He looks pretty harmless, and I was ninety percent sure he was telling the truth.”

“Always good to double-check. Did he tell you how long we’ve known each other?”

“Since you were younger than me,” Jesse replied.

“That’s right.”

Cay passed me a chilled bottle of water, and I took it gratefully, rolling it over my forehead before taking a long pull. The ice pack on the back of my neck was bringing me the relief I needed, but getting to know Caleb’s son hadn’t been half bad either. He’d been a good distraction from the throb in my skull and a vivid reminder of what I’d missed out on being gone so long.

Jesse nudged me. “You’re back now? What kinda sad things are you taking pictures of around here?”

“Jess…” Cay warned, but I didn’t have a problem with his question.

“It’s all right. The truth is, I’m not working right now because I was in a bad car accident a couple months ago. The even bigger truth is I’m a little burned out from all the sad stuff, so I’m taking a break.”

This was the first time I’d voiced that aloud. I wasn’t just in Sugar Brush to heal but to figure out how I wanted to move forward. Thoughts of flying into a war zone didn’t fill me with adrenaline like they used to. It might’ve been a temporary thing; I couldn’t be sure. But I finally had the time, space, and desire to really think things through.




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