"How'd you find me in the oncology wing? You were by yourself that day."
The fluorescent lights inside the elevator illuminated the flush in his face. "I told the girl working the reception desk that you were my girlfriend and I needed to find you." He glanced away like he was embarrassed.
She wasn't. It was a genius move.
"And she didn't even question you, because..." Because of Noah’s blindness.
"Because it might've been awkward if she did."
It was both awful and convenient.
They were walking down the hallway toward the oncologist's office when a page came over the intercom. Noah's arm tensed beneath her fingers.
Before she could ask why, they'd arrived.
She gave her name to the receptionist, and Noah followed her to a seat on the far wall. The waiting room was empty for once.
He seemed more on edge then she remembered from the last time they'd been in the same room. Or maybe she'd been so wrapped up in her own worries that she hadn't noticed. He let his cane rest between his knees, and the knuckles of his right hand were white where he gripped it.
"You really don't like hospitals, do you?"
He visibly tried to relax his shoulders. He rolled his head side to side as if loosening up the muscles in his neck. "It's not that bad."
"Liar. "
He shrugged. It was fascinating to watch as he started tapping on his knee with the fingers of his empty hand. As soon as he realized what he was doing his fingers flexed, and he twisted them on his thigh.
"Why did you come if it was going to stress you out this much?"
"Because you asked."
It was almost a... romantic thing to say. She flushed, heat rolling up her neck and into her face.
She needed a diversion, quick.
"I hope you like macaroni and cheese glued on paper crafts," she said. "I have it on good authority that Lindsey is making some special art for Christmas gifts."
Surprise lit his expression as if he had completely forgotten that Christmas was only three weeks out. "She doesn't need to do anything for me."
"I'm pretty sure it's way too late to stop her."
One corner of his lip turned up in a smile.
"The kids did comment on your lack of Christmas decor," she said. "No outdoor lights, no tree, not even a wreath on your front door?"
He pulled a face. "I don't usually decorate if it's going to just be me."
How depressing.
"Are you going to go see your mom? I'm fairly certain you have a house full of cat sitters that can watch Honey Bear for you."
He shook his head. “Mom and Steve—that’s my stepdad—are going on a cruise this year. She’s always wanted to go on a Caribbean cruise.”
It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself to be happy for her. Poor Noah, alone at Christmas.
He might protest that he preferred to be alone, but she was starting to see through the lie.
Before she could ask whether he wanted to spend the day with her and the kids, a nurse opened the waiting room door and called her name.
