“Hello to you, too,” I say, as Noah walks around the front of the truck toward the driver’s side.
He’s distracted by something that came through on his phone, so I raise my hand and offer Max an under-the-chin scratch. It’s quick, but his eyebrows arch slightly, his expression cutting through any resolve that I have to remain “not a dog person.”
“Don’t give me that look.”
The door opens and Noah climbs in, dropping his phone into one of the cupholders.
Max nuzzles his shoulder, and Noah gives him a couple of pats to the top of his head. “All right, Max.Platz.”
He whines but spins around and lies down.
“Figured we’d start at the mechanic shop and go from there. You good with that?”
I nod as Noah starts the truck and backs out of the driveway.
The drive into town isn’t too far, but those first five minutes of silence are brutal. Max pants in the back seat, and I focus on the passing scenery. However, my thoughts oscillate between the man next to me and his mother back home. I worry my lip.
Am I expected to take care of her? I should’ve never taken Noah up on this offer. I’m used to staying in my car—I don’t need any handouts. Though, the bed last night was heavenly once I finally fell asleep.
“What do I need to know for your mom? I’m not a nurse or anything.” The words blurt out of my mouth. My mom always said I had half the conversation in my head before actually saying anything out loud.
Noah takes his eyes off the road briefly to study me. “Just being there helps. Knowing she isn’t alone in that house all day,every day. Encourage her to take her medicine in the morning, and if you don’t mind checking each evening to make sure all her pills for the day are gone. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, and if you make something see if she’s willing to eat with you. I’ll make sure a nurse comes by once a week to check in on her oxygen and vitals—I don’t expect you to do any of that.”
I internally snort remembering this morning’s omelet and medicine negotiations.
“Thank you.”
My head snaps to him, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, fisting the wheel. “Thank you for being willing to stay with her. I know it’s probably the last thing you want to be doing, and I don’t expect you to stay locked away in the house for her sake. Go hiking, out with friends, er … datesorwhatever.” He strings those last few words together so fast, he bulldozes past them.
“Fortunately, I don’t have any friends, nor do I date, so hiking and work would be about the only things I’d pop out for. If my car was actually functional.”
“Not interested in getting to know some people around Pinebrook?” Noah curiously glances at me, eyes flicking over my face as if he’s gauging my expression.
Why does he care?
“I’m not exactly dating material,” I say.
I don’t look like the girls men usually gravitate toward. I’m not exactly the kind of woman they want to bring home to meet their mom. I spend my days content to wander the wild and drown in my own words. Dyed hair and a nose ring aren’t what parents want for their sons. Besides, it’s not just my outside that disqualifies me, it’s the ugly, dirty inside.
“I find that hard to believe.”
Squinting, I try to find the joke in there somewhere, but his expression is eager, unwavering, and his gaze is soft. Does he mean that? Because …
“Believe it.”
Noah only shakes his head before turning onto a side street I recognize as one of the many that crosses with Main Street. A garage-like building comes into view on the left, utilitarian and rough looking if the graffitied doors are any indication. Its weathered metal facade shows streaks of grime and rust … or maybe that’s grease? The artwork obscures dented large roll-up doors, and above the entrance, a cracked sign is so faded I can barely make out the word Tommy’s.
I glance at Noah to find him already looking at me with asorry, but that’s all we gotkind of look, and silently hope this guy isn’t a hack mechanic and I’ll find my car in a million pieces.
Noah pulls in front of one of the closed doors and shuts the truck off while Max paces in the back seat. Back and forth between each window, he paws at the doors.
“Nein,Max.Tommy always gives him a treat when we come here.”
“You come here a lot?”
“Tommy is a good buddy from my high school days,” he says, shrugging.
We climb out of the truck, and I move toward the garage bay. Noah lets Max out, and he barrels toward me, nosing me in the ass before bolting into the bay.
