“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“Nothing. Just funny how a four-year-old can get away with ordering you around.”
“He’s got you sitting here, hasn’t he? So I’m not the only one he’s bossing around.”
“That’s true. You on babysitting duty again?”
“Sure am,” I reply with a grin. “Wagner was called into the city.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I love hanging out with my favorite person. Apart from work, hanging out with Wagner and Sammy, and sorting through a massive pile of my grandparents’ boxes, my life is actually pretty simple.”
“And you don’t mind that?”
“Not at all. Excitement is overrated. I’ve partied enough to last two lifetimes. I’m over that scene and everything that comes with it.” I suck in a breath, stopping myself from revealing anything else. “Give meSesame Streetplaying in the background while reviewing business financials any day of the week.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Really. I’m pretty boring.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
I chuckle. “And yet it’s true.”
We fall into a comfortable silence that Jackson eventually breaks with, “You seem like a great uncle.”
“Thanks.” My eyes drift to Sammy, spinning around in the dirt. “Kids are so wild. Getting to spend some quality time with him has opened my eyes so much.”
“How so?”
“Kids have a rich emotional landscape. His personality is forming. He observes and absorbs everything that takes place around him. He’s inquisitive. And he needs to feel safe. Loved. Seen. It’s sad to think we all start off as innocent kids and end up as adults struggling to deal with all of our unprocessed trauma.”
Jackson side-eyes me. “That’s grim, Benson.”
“Tell me it’s not true, though.” He shrugs, so I go on. “On a scale of one to ten, where one is the most perfect family ever and ten is the Menendezes, how would you rate yours?”
He swipes his thumb in small circles along his chin as he thinks about it. “I’d say a seven. We’ve been through a lot, butno one has ever committed murder. Thought about it plenty of times, sure, but never any follow-through.”
I grin. “That’s good. These horses would be missing out if you were behind bars.”
“Why do you assume I would be the one doing the murdering?”
“I saw you at Bunny’s, remember? Definitely the face of a killer.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head at the memory, then asks, “What about your family? Scale of one to ten.”
“Eleven,” I reply the instant he finishes his question. His eyes meet mine. “You don’t want to know. It’s…grim.”
“Right.”
Clearing my throat, I segue onto a new topic, one that’s been gnawing at the back of my mind recently. “So what’s the deal with you and Pip?”
“Excuse me?”
I keep my eyes firmly focused on Sammy. “I get the impression you prefer horses over humans the way you steer clear of most of the staff around here.”
“That’s because most of the staff around here are useless.”
