The three of us groaned with envy, hugged her goodbye, and asked one of the bar backs to walk her out to the parking lot. Chloe and April left shortly afterward, and after saying goodnight I headed down the hallway off the lobby that led to our family’s private wing.
The house was dark, but my mom had left one light on for me in the upstairs hallway outside my room. There were freshly laundered towels folded on my dresser, an extra blanket at the foot of my bed, and a note on my pillow.
So happy to have one of our little sparrows back in the nest. Love you!
I smiled and set it aside, got ready for bed, and slipped beneath the covers. It felt both odd and comforting to be there alone in the dark in my old room. A thousand memories flashed through my brain—being nervous about an AP exam or a cross country meet the next day, stressing about my campaign for student council president, worrying that my crush on some guy would be forever unrequited.
I turned onto my stomach. I’d gotten up super early and should have been tired, especially given all the wine I’d drunk, but I wasn’t. If I’d been seventeen again, I probably would have snuck downstairs and called Noah.
As teenagers, we’d had countless conversations late at night, me usually sitting on the floor of the pantry, where I’d dragged the phone so no one would hear, and Noah on the couch in his parents’ basement. No matter how worked up I was about something, his voice would soothe me. Inevitably, I could fall asleep after we hung up.
For a moment, I considered getting out of bed and grabbing my phone, but then I thought better of it. I wasn’t sure what his work schedule was, and it was after midnight already—he shouldn’t have to lose sleep just because I was feeling anxious. And for all I knew, he was out with someone. It was Saturday night, after all. He hadn’t mentioned dating anyone seriously since Holly, but that didn’t mean he was celibate.
I recalled his offer last night to take me for a spin and assess my steering and handling, and it made me laugh in my pillow. I couldn’t wait to see him. I knew he’d make me smile.
He always did.
Five
Noah
I worked all day Saturday, 7 A.M. to 7 P.M., but I had Sunday off.
After waking around six, as usual, I decided to take advantage of the mild autumn weather by heading out for a run with Renzo on one of my favorite trails. Afterward, we worked on some obedience in a nearby park, which was empty at that early hour—something I insisted on. Renzo was a well-behaved dog (mostly), but he was still an animal, and he was trained to bite. I never wanted to take any chances with strangers around.
As the morning wore on, the park got a little busier, and curious onlookers wandered over. I was sweaty and tired and ravenously hungry, but I told Renzo to lie down and let the kids get close enough to pet him and take pictures. This was part of my job too—being part of the community and making people feel welcome and safe.
After leaving the park, I went right to my mom’s house for some food. She always made brunch for everybody after she got home from Mass on Sundays. My sister and her family would be there, and Asher, too—he still lived with my mom. Someday he would live with me.
I parked behind my sister’s car in front of the house and walked around to the back door, which opened into the big, cluttered kitchen. My mom was flipping eggs on the stove, and my very pregnant sister was sticking bread in the toaster, buttering the slices as they popped up. As usual, the lights were low because of Asher’s sensitivity to brightness, but I didn’t see him in the room.
Renzo got excited the moment he saw the kids, who were just as thrilled to see him. “Can I take him in the yard to play, Uncle Noah?” asked Harrison.
“Sure, buddy.” He looked just like his dad at that age. I ruffled his blond curls and handed him a tennis ball I’d brought. “Here. Hope you’ve got a lot of energy.”
“I do!” he called, running full-speed for the back door, Renzo on his heels.
“Mommy, can I go too?” asked Violet.
“Did you say hello to Uncle Noah?” Nina gave her daughter a Mom look.
Violet, who had her mother’s dark hair but Chris’s light eyes, gave me a gap-toothed grin. “Hi, Uncle Noah.”
“Whoa!” I took her face in my hands and pretended to be shocked. “Is that another hole in your smile?”
She nodded happily. “I lotht it yethterday at thcool.”
“Wow. I hope you grow another one in its place. You sound a little funny without it.”
The grin widened. “I will.”
“Good.” I gently yanked her by the pigtails. “Go on. Renzo needs at least two of you to wear him out.”
She flew out the back door and I went over to little Ethan in the high chair. “High five, dude.” I held up my hand, and he hit it and laughed, then threw some blueberries on the floor.
I picked them up, tossed them in the trash, and went over to the stove to kiss my mom’s cheek. “Morning, Ma.”
“Morning. Didn’t see you at Mass this morning.”
“Damn, did I forget it was Sunday again?”
“Language, please.” My sister glanced at her toddler over her shoulder. “Ethan repeats everything these days. And suddenly Violet has discovered cursing. Last week her teacher asked what sound the letter B makes, and she answered, ‘B says buh, what the hell else would it say?’”
Laughing, I moved over to Nina and poked her side. “Good for her. Morning, Shamu. Where’s your good-for-nothing husband?”
“His dad needed him today.” Chris’s family owned several nurseries and ran a large landscaping business in the area, which Chris oversaw day to day. Asher worked in their admin offices. Nina sniffed at me over her shoulder. “Ew. Couldn’t you have at least rinsed off the sweat?”
I held my damp shirt away from my body. “And deprive you ladies of my natural scent? Why would I do that?”
“Gross. No wonder you can’t get a date.”
“I don’t want a date.” I grabbed a piece of buttered toast off the plate and took a giant bite.
My sister slapped my hand. “That’s for breakfast, jerk.”
“Perfect, that’s why I came. Got any coffee?”
“It’s in the pot,” said my mother, sliding fried eggs onto the chipped blue platter she’d put Sunday bacon and eggs on for as long as I could remember. “Could you two please stop bickering? I already have a headache.”
“Sorry, Ma.” I poured a cup and leaned back against the yellowed Formica. “Where’s Ash?”
“Resting.”
I nodded. Living with CP meant his body expended something like five times the energy mine did just doing everyday tasks. Going up a flight of stairs was like a marathon for him. “How was his week? I didn’t see him much.”
“Okay. He’s been having trouble sleeping. Seems agitated about something. And he had a partial seizure yesterday.” She shook her head. “I think he’s working too much.”
My gut clenched. A partial wasn’t as bad as the tonic-clonic seizures Asher sometimes had as a child, but they still made me worry. “Is he still taking the muscle relaxant at night?”