“And don’t go anywhere you haven’t already been,” Thais said, taking him into a hug, “because I don’t want you to get yourself hurt, okay?”

Jeffrey squeezed the life out of her.

“I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

He high-fived me again before rushing out the back door.

“I’ll be back later!” Jeffrey shouted as he ran down the steps. “And you can build me a rowboat!” The bushes and trees shook as Jeffrey rushed past them and darted into the forest, and then he was gone.

“I didn’t know you were a carpenter,” Thais said as I closed the back door.

“My grandfather was a carpenter.”

Thais pushed up on her toes, reached out both arms and hooked her fingers behind my neck. I lifted her; her legs went around my waist.

“So, he taught you?” she asked, looking into my eyes.

I leaned in and pecked her on the lips.

“Yeah. I spent a lot of time with my grandfather before he died. He was a good man.”

Thais regarded me.

“You’re being very sweet to Jeffrey,” she said.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She smiled. “I guess I’m just glad you are the way you are.”

“And what way would that be?”

“Almost perfect,” she answered.

My eyebrows pinched in my forehead.

“Almost?” I questioned; a lopsided smile on my face.

Thais kissed the tip of my nose.

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” she reasoned.

I squeezed her, and my smile grew and grew.

“I don’t suppose it only takes a week to build a rowboat?” she said seconds later.

Ah, she caught that, I see. I hugged her closer.

“No,” I answered. “I don’t suppose it does.”

“How long does something like that usually take?”

I shrugged. “It really depends on what I have and don’t have to work with—I’m guessing a month at the least.”

Thais beamed with a burst of happiness, and she wrapped her arms around me in response to my decision to stay longer.

Just a little longer, I thought. Not indefinitely; we had to leave sometime; we couldn’t press our luck.

What am I doing? I know we should go, but why are we still here?