“Honey,” she rasps, facing him. “Will you grab me an orange juice before you go?”
“Yeah, Mom.” He kisses her cheek, lifting his bright eyes to mine. “Be right back.”
I chew on the inside of my lip, nodding as I watch him slip out of the door.
“Thank you,” Lori whispers the moment he’s gone, calling my attention to her. She smiles, and though only the right side of her lips lift, I still would have known, had they not moved at all. It’s in her tone, in the blue of her eyes, nearly the same color as her only son’s.
“Thank you for letting me come.”
“No, sweet girl.” She blinks away tears. “Thank you for breathing life back into my boy. It’s been a long time since I’ve witnessed all his shades of blue, but every visit lately, I’ve been gifted with a little more.”
“Lately?” I breathe.
“Yes, honey.” She nods, reaching across her body with her working hand, so I push to my feet, slipping mine into hers. “Lately. For weeks now, maybe longer.”
My skin flushes, but like her son, she doesn’t draw attention to it, allowing me a moment to look away. Clearing my throat, I face her once more.
“Meh, could be because he’s basically a football god this season,” I tease with a playful shrug.
A loud laugh spurts from Lori and she grins. “Yeah. Could be, couldn’t it?”
We’re sharing a smile when Noah slips back into the room, eyeing us with suspicion as he slowly sets a small juice beside her.
“What did I miss?” He glances between us.
“Me getting a taste of that sweet sense of humor you spoke of,” his mom says, and my head jerks his way.
His brows lift. “Thanks, Mom.” He chuckles. “We should go.”
As if on cue, her words begin to slur a little more, but she smiles regardless. “Yeah, honey, you should.” Mischief blooms in her eyes. “Take the girl home, tuck her in.”
“Mom.”
Lori laughs, rolling her head my way. A softness falls over her, her blinks growing slower by the second. “I can’t wait to see you again, sweetheart.”
A somberness takes over the room, thickening the air in my throat.
I nod, waving as I step out ahead of Noah, giving the two a moment alone.
By the time I’ve made it to the exit, he’s at my side, stepping out into the cooled air with me.
We don’t get much of winter here in Southern California, and when you’ve lived here for so long, you get used to the kind of cold we do have, so while there’s a bite in the air, it’s nothing our sweaters don’t ease us from.
“Your mom is sweet.”
“She’s impossible,” he teases.
Laughing, I slip in front of him, walking backward. “No more than mine.”
He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I realize then how wrong I was before when he said his Sundays were booked, as did his beautiful blonde friend. It had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his mom, but he says his Sundays are fully booked, and his mom was exhausted after a two-hour visit. That means he leaves here every week and does the only thing he thinks he can. He goes home, alone, because after a few hours with the woman who gave him the world, but can’t quite function on her own anymore, a feeling of helplessness he can’t escape weighs him down.
Not today, not when I think I can help take it away.
Inside the cab, I face him. “So, I know it’s Sunday and all, and you have practice tomorrow, but it’s early enough, and we’re young…”
Noah chuckles, his head dropped back on his seat, but he points his eyes to mine. “What did you have in mind?”
“Pasco Bella Farms.”
He squints, but there’s a pinch of amusement in there.
“You know, the pumpkin patch? Where you eat turkey legs bigger than my biceps, drink warm beer, get lost in the corn maze…” I gape at him. “Have you never been?”
He grins, shaking his head.
“Well, that is just wrong. It’s a must, so what do you say, Romeo?” I smirk. “You in?”
Noah stares at me for a long moment, the grin on his lips softening, but never slipping. In the calmest, quietest of whispers, he says, “If you’re in, I’m in.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and Noah reaches over, guiding my hair behind my ear.
His hand lingers there a moment, his eyes still on mine. “You’ll lead us?”
The pit of my stomach lets itself known, his words weighing as I believe he intended, the double innuendo loud and clear.