Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I’m on the edge of my seat as Noah’s already gentle voice breaks around the edges. His life is so much more complicated than I ever dreamed. He’s so successful and vibrant and handsome, I figured his upbringing had been perfect. Easy. Devoid of complications.
I guess that’s why they have that phrase about what happens when you assume.
“When I was fourteen, I permanently moved in with my dad and helped him with Kara as much as I could.” He laughs thoughtfully. “He fought me the whole way. Said he wanted me to be a normal teenager, whatever that means.” He shrugs. “I haven’t talked to my mom since. I know she’s still alive, living somewhere in the city, but that’s all I know and that’s all I want to know.”
“Your dad sounds like a really good father.”
“He was,” Noah corrects, and I frown. “He passed away a few years ago. Heart attack.”
“I’m so sorry.”
My dad is a pain in my ass, but just last week, he sent a care package of a couple hundred dollars, beef jerky, and brand-new Cleveland Guardians hats for the boys. He didn’t call or text, and he rarely does. But he doesn’t have to. He loves me and my kids and finds his ways to show it. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have him or my mom or Brooke to turn to.
Noah, it seems, is very much on his own.
“Me too.” He shrugs. “But I’m thankful I was in the position to take over Kara’s care.”
Noah’s life is the opposite of what I’d pictured in my mind—the carefree bachelor with the entire world at his feet. Instead, he’s the sole provider for his disabled sister, while also managing the schedule of being the head of pediatric anesthesiology at St. Luke’s.
Looks like Brooke was right about him all along…
“She lives in a full-time care facility, one my dad researched and picked out before he passed, but I hired Mary to give her the individualized attention she deserves. Mary spends forty hours a week with her and takes her out on day-trips all the time. I wish I could do it all myself, but I learned within the first six months that doing it all without help was impossible.”
By the way his eyes bore into mine, I have to imagine he’s trying to tell me something.
“I guess all of us need help sometimes,” I acknowledge rather than dodging. I owe him that much for as open as he’s been with me. “Thank you for sharing with me. You didn’t have to, and I’m sure it’s not easy talking about it all, but I’m really thankful you did.” I reach out and place my hand over his. “You’re a really good man, Noah. Your sister is lucky to have you as a brother.”
He shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one. Kara’s what keeps me sane.”
“I understand. Sisters are special. I don’t know what I’d do without Brooke, but I’m almost positive I wouldn’t be doing it in New York. Without her, I never would have been able to manage the move.”
“Are you happy here?”
“Yes.” My voice is emphatic. “I know with all my heart New York is where I belong. It’s where my boys belong. I can’t see myself living anywhere else now that we’re here.”
Noah smiles over at me. “That’s good. Because I can’t picture New York without you now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I snort and nudge him playfully in the shoulder. “You’d manage without me. And Lord knows the city would certainly manage without my crazy kids.”
“It doesn’t mean I’d want to manage.” Noah winks. “It might be selfish, but I’m happy you gave up your Midwest roots to come here.”
“It wasn’t a hard choice. Ohio isn’t the most exciting place to live.”
“I’m sure Ohio can be fun.”
I eye him skeptically. “Have you ever been to Ohio?”
“Well, no,” he answers. “But it can’t be that bad.”
“Quick question,” I say, staring at him with pursed lips. “When you’re at the airport and you see the gate for…I don’t know…Cleveland, Ohio… Do you think, ‘Man, I wish I were going there!’ or do you just feel sympathy for the poor souls sitting at that gate?”
His response is pure laughter.
“See!” I exclaim and poke my index finger into his manly bicep.
“But I didn’t say anything!” he retorts, his voice still full of hilarity.
“You didn’t have to,” I counter with a knowing smile. “Your lack of response said it all.”
“I plead the Fifth.”
“Of course you do!” I laugh. “One day, I’m going to drag you to Hometown, Ohio, with me and let you experience a real Midwest culture shock.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” he questions. “Because I’m hoping it’s a promise.”
I roll my eyes and take a drink from my fourth glass of wine. Since I’m a fair-weather drinker, that’s all I need to know about the passing of time. But no matter how long we’ve been sitting here, it still feels like it’s been hardly any time at all.