Saving Rain(38)

“Hi, Noah,” I replied, offering a small, friendly wave.

“Can I come over?”

“Uh …” I rubbed my bearded chin, unsure of how to answer. “You know, I’m not sure your mom—”

“Okay, hold on. I’ll ask her!”

He ran inside before I could stop him, and I sighed, listening to him bellow for his mother.

There’s no way that lady is going to be okay with him coming over here. She seems too overprotective. No freakin’—

“She said it’s fine!” Noah shouted, running out of his house and down the steps.

“Oh. Uh, okay.” I watched as he ran to stand at the bottom of my stairs. “Watch out for this, okay?” I pointed to the loose and rotted boards. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

This wasn’t how I’d planned to spend my day. Sitting outside, entertaining a kid I didn’t know. Yet something about it felt good. Normal even.

I turned to face him, pulling off my gloves and stuffing them into my back pocket. It was too warm to be wearing them now with the sun set high above us.

I gestured toward the house next door. “So, you live over there, huh?” I asked him, making conversation.

“Yep.” He kicked at the dirt. “Just me and my mom. Well, sometimes, my dad is here, but most of the time, it’s just us.”

“Oh, cool. I haven’t seen you guys around.”

Noah shrugged. “Mom said I couldn’t talk to you before. She gets kinda worried about people. But”—he kicked at a rock this time—“I guess she changed her mind.”

I twisted my lips and nodded slowly. I wondered if seeing me at the grocery store had altered her opinion of the ex-con who had infiltrated their cozy little River Canyon bubble, and I took it as a good thing.

“But she did say I can’t go in your house,” he added, lifting a hand to gesture at my door. “She said she hasn’t decided if you’re a creep or not yet.”

I laughed at that. “You have a smart mom.”

“So, like, are you a creep?”

I tipped my head back to squint toward the blinding sun. “I mean, I don’t think so, but I guess that depends on who you ask.”

Noah inhaled deeply and nodded, studying my unfortunate-looking house. “Well, I don’t think you’re a creep. I can usually tell that kinda stuff.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” I said, stifling a chuckle. “I don’t think you’re a creep either.”

Next door, a window opened, and I glanced over my shoulder to see his mom peering outside. I lifted a hand in a small wave, and she lifted hers to wave back.

Then, she mouthed, Sorry, and pointed at Noah, standing there, kicking at the same rock with determination, and I shrugged and smiled.

Of all the things I minded in the world, I decided that Noah wasn’t one of them.

“So, why were you in jail?” he asked, looking up with innocent curiosity.

I took a deep breath and once again glanced toward the open window next door. “Uh, you know, I’m not sure your mom would want me talking to you about that.”

“My dad went to jail once.”

“Oh my God, Noah.” The woman rushed out of the neighboring trailer, hugging a sweater around her slender frame as she hurried down the steps. “We can’t just go around, telling people everything about our lives, okay?”

“Well, maybe he knew Dad in jail,” Noah reasoned with his mother.

“It isn’t … your dad didn’t …” She sighed, pressing a hand over her eyes. “Your dad was only held at the police station for a few days. He didn’t go away to, you know …” She looked up and met my gaze as she quietly added, “Prison.” Then, she contorted her features into the cutest grimace I’d ever seen, as if she was truly worried she’d offended me. “Sorry.”

I shook my head, tilting my lips in a crooked smile I knew was probably stupid. “It’s fine.”

She surprised me then by extending her hand. “I’m Ray.”

I offered mine, and we shook lightly, briefly. “Soldier.”

Her lips parted at the sound of my name, her emerald eyes narrowing just a little. “That’s … an interesting name.”

“My mom was an interesting lady,” I replied.

That’s putting it gently.

“Are you a real soldier?” Noah asked, studying me with the same green gaze as his mom.

I shook my head and gripped the back of my neck. “Nah, not really. Although, sometimes, I feel like one with all the crap I’ve been through.”

“Like what?”

Noah asked more questions than anybody I’d ever met.

“Uh, you know, just—”

“Hey! You have a cat?” Noah abruptly cut me off, changing the subject as he hurried up the steps to crouch in front of the screen door.

“Uh … yeah … well”—I scratched at the back of my head—“I guess, kind of.”

“You guess?” Ray asked, amused. “How do you not know if you own a cat?”

“He kinda adopted me,” I replied sheepishly. “I brought him in about a week ago after finding him out here when it was snowing, and he just sorta decided not to leave.”