Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
After six hours of working, my back aches, and my stomach growls. Before I left this morning, I put a roast and potatoes in the slow cooker so I wouldn’t have to cook dinner. Though I’m not happy Noah’s here invading my space and head, I won’t let him go hungry. He stayed out of my way for most of the day. Later, I find him reading a book on his bed.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to grab dinner and bring it here.”
When he looks up at me, it’s almost as if time stands still and we’re teenagers again. It’s the same look he used to give me that melted my heart every damn time I saw him.
“Okay.”
I only live ten minutes away, so it takes me no time to round up everything. I freshen up in the bathroom before I grab a few drinks and the slow cooker, then bring it out to my car.
Shortly after I return, my mother shows up with Owen. I hurry and meet them outside, not giving her the opportunity to find Noah bunkered inside. She grabs Owen’s bag from the trunk and hands it to him.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“It was good. We had milkshakes after practice.” Owen grins.
“Lovely, nice and sugared up for dinner.” I chuckle.
“What are grandmas for?” My mom smirks.
“I’ll see you later this week. Thanks for taking him to practice and hanging out with him so I could work.”
“No problem. You know I love doing it, even if he can be exhausting at times.” She smiles at Owen before engulfing him into a hug. Once she’s in her car, we both wave goodbye, then head back toward the house.
“Is Noah still here?”
I place my hand on his shoulder as we go inside. “Yes. He’ll probably be here for at least a week.”
His lips tilt up. “I didn’t say anything to anyone.”
“That’s good.”
The aromas from the roast and potatoes float through the air as we walk to the kitchen. Owen sets up the small card table and folding chairs I keep in the closet for when we eat dinner here. I put the food on three plates as Owen sets out the forks.
“Can I help with anything?” Noah asks as he watches.
“You can grab the roll of paper towels from under the sink,” I say.
Once we all sit, we dig in. Owen asks Noah a million questions, and I let him because it fills the silence.
“So, what’s your last name?” Owen asks.
Noah looks at me as if he’s asking permission, and I nod.
“It’s Reid, like yours.”
Owens scrunches his nose in confusion, then glances at me. I confirm with a nod. “We have the same last name? Does that mean we’re related?”
I clear my throat. “Yes, he’s your daddy’s cousin, which makes him your second cousin. Jerry is his dad, and my friend Gemma is his sister.”
Owen looks immediately confused, then frowns before looking at Noah. “I never met my dad. I’ve only seen him in pictures, but I wonder what he was like. If he played basketball like me or if he was good at video games.” Owen’s eyes lower to his lap, and I reach over and squeeze his hand. Before I can say anything, Noah clears his throat and grabs my attention. He gives me a look as if he’s asking for permission to talk about him. I offer a quick nod and pray it won’t make Owen feel worse.
“Your dad loved basketball,” he says, and it immediately grabs Owen’s attention back to him. “And you look so much like him when he was your age. I’m certain he’d be incredibly proud of you.”
Seeing Owen’s mouth tilt up into a sad smile breaks my heart. “He’s right. I know Daddy would be amazed by your good grades and by how nice you are to everyone and how you always help me. He’d be so proud because I know I am.”
Owen’s smile grows bigger, but I notice how hard Noah swallows. I’ve talked about Gabe around Owen since he was a baby, so this is nothing new, but it’s a first for Noah. I know how much it hurts Owen that his friends have a dad, and he doesn’t.
We finish eating as Owen talks about his day and tells Noah about his school and friends. It’s sweet how open he’s being, but it also reminds me how desperate he is for male companionship. Though he has his grandfathers, Tyler, and even Jerry in his life, it’s not the same as having a father.
Once everything is cleaned up and packed to leave, I tell Owen to wait for me in the car.
“We’re gonna go. Do you need anything?” I ask Noah as he stands against the wall with his arms crossed.
He looks up at me with sad eyes. “I’m good, Katie. You’ve done enough.” I can hear the pain in his voice, but I don’t ask him what’s wrong because I know it has something to do with the conversation he had with Owen about Gabe.