Saving Rain(94)

Despite the lingering threat of the bogeyman hanging over our heads, it was starting to feel like we actually were.

“So, your birthday’s coming up,” I said to Noah as he flipped a burger, just as I’d shown him.

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. Like it wasn’t a big deal that he was turning thirteen.

All things considered, he was still somewhat better off than I had been when I was thirteen. And that, to me, was a big deal.

“What do you wanna do?”

He glanced up at me like I had lost all my marbles somewhere. “What do you mean?”

“How do you wanna celebrate?”

Noah wrinkled his nose and scratched at a fresh mosquito bite. “I dunno …”

“I mean, do you wanna have a party or something? Or do you just wanna chill out with us and have dinner? Or …”

He sniffed a laugh. “Whatever. I dunno.”

Since the attack in the house next door, Noah had been quiet, more reserved. I knew he was confused about his mom’s choices to not press charges. I knew he was scared. But with the way he’d been hanging around me the past few weeks since that day, even to the point of coming to work with me every day he didn’t have school, I also knew he felt better when I was around.

I was even starting to feel a little grateful that I hadn’t snapped that asshole’s neck.

But while I respected that Noah had to handle things in his own way—which included seeing a therapist once a week—I was worried that kid I’d met all those months ago would be lost in his head somewhere. I was worried he’d fade away, just as I had. Forced to harden to accommodate for the circumstances he had been born into. And I needed him to know he didn’t have to. If he had any choice in that, he didn’t have to do a damn thing as long as I was around.

“Well, I mean, we could go fishing, if you want to,” I suggested, reminding him of something he’d wanted to do badly before the attack.

A small glimmer of excitement sparked in his eye as he looked up at me. “Yeah, maybe we could do that.”

“That would be fun.”

He nodded. “And, I mean, if you want to, maybe we could have pizza or something. Like, on my birthday.”

“So, you don’t wanna go fishing on your birthday?”

“Well, we can, but …” He shrugged and turned a sizzling hot dog. “I kinda like the idea of having a party too.”

“Yeah,” I said, catching his mom’s eye and the small, affectionate smile that had begun to form on her beautiful face, “I do too.”

***

And so, despite the dark Seth-shaped cloud that hung over our heads, we threw together a little impromptu birthday party for Noah. We invited his grandparents and aunt Stormy, Harry and his wife, and a few kids from Noah’s class. It wasn’t a big gathering of people, but they all fit perfectly in the place we now called home.

Noah was running around the yard with his buddies and their Nerf guns as Harry and I looked on with cold cans of soda in hand. My old friend glanced up at me with a smile on his face, one that reminded me too much of Grampa’s.

“What?” I chuckled uncomfortably, diverting my gaze to the can in my hand.

“I’m just thinking,” he replied, looking away to take a sip from his drink.

“Careful, old man. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.”

Harry chuckled gently, shaking his head. “I’m just proud of you, is all.”

“Harry, man,” I groaned sardonically. “You’re not allowed to get all sappy on me now. I gotta pick up the pizzas in a few minutes. I can’t be walking in there, looking like I’ve been crying it out over here.”

“No, no, no. I want you to look around for a second,” he said, turning to face me. “You have a beautiful girlfriend, who is, for reasons I can’t figure out, absolutely crazy about you.”

I snorted, glancing in the direction of Ray, laughing with her sister and mother. “Thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”

He chuckled, laying a hand against my arm. “You have that kid over there, who looks at you like you’re his entire world. You have this place, which”—he turned to glance at the trailer that was looking pretty damn good these days—“if I can remind you, looked like a literal pile of crap when you first moved in.

“You did all this,” he said, nodding with approval and satisfaction and a bunch of other good shit I couldn’t put my finger on. “You defeated the odds, son. I can safely say, looking at this life you’ve built for yourself, you’ve actually won.”

A grin tugged at my lips as my mind went to a conversation Ray and I’d had recently.

“If you win, I win.”

But the thought of that morning—lazy sex and worried tears—reminded me of our last day spent in her house. It reminded me of why they were really here, sleeping in my rooms and eating dinner in my kitchen instead of theirs. She loved me—I knew that—but that wasn’t why we’d forged a life under the same roof.

It was because of the bogeymen.

And no matter what happy life we managed to find for ourselves here—with birthday parties and barbecues and gardens full of homegrown vegetables—it would never feel permanent or real, like it was truly ours, until that bogeyman was gone.