Mrs. Jones returns with my order, a much bigger box than I was anticipating. “I added a couple Jelly with powdered sugar and some donut holes, because they’re your brothers’ favorites,” Mrs. Jones tells me proudly, with the most overdone wink I’ve ever seen.
“They’re not…” I go to tell her my brothers aren’t in town, but she looks so happy. “Thank you,” I tell her instead.
I have my order, so I could leave. I should. But I remember Noah’s face last Friday night. And it’s not like I need to worry about impressing his mother anymore.
“Are you busy Friday evening?” I ask her, so nervous I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.
“Pizza night with Izzie and Tatum. His dad works late on Fridays.”
“Noah has a game. Against Boston College. They’re the team to beat, so it should be an exciting night.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll do amazing, but like I said, I’ll be alone with the kids, and it’ll end way past Izzie’s bedtime.”
“I could watch her. Them.”
“I’m sure you’d rather be at the game, don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t. For lots of reasons, but…” I take a deep breath and go for it. “I know it’s not my place, and that he’d never tell you, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad and he understands, but…every time he scores, which is a lot, he looks up to see if you’re there. And while I’m sure it’s incredibly hard for you, I think it’ll be so much worse years from now when you realize you missed out on Noah being the best at something. He’s amazing. On the ice, as the captain of that team, as Izzie’s big brother…He’s one of the best guys I know. And he might make it to the NHL, I think he will, but these games could be all he gets. Then with Izzie following in his footsteps…they deserve people in their corner.”
I realize that I am letting my current newsworthy status keep me from supporting Noah, even if we’re not together, so I make the decision that if his mom doesn’t take me up on the babysitting offer, I’ll go to the game. Giant crowd be damned. Because Noah deserves to have someone in the audience for him.
Cheering him on.
Who loves him.
“I can’t,” she tells me, looking equal parts guilty and terrified.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed.” She nods, but instead of reproachful, she looks like she feels bad for me.
“He’s lucky to have you,” she tells me.
“I’m not sure he feels that way right now, but I want what’s best for him. Always.”
“I can see that.”
“I need to get going, but…if you change your mind about Friday, or any game, Izzie has my number.”
“You’re leaving?” Izzie asks me, coming back from the washroom.
“I’ll be late if I don’t, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” I say, giving her a hug. I shouldn’t make promises without discussing it with Noah, but I can’t stand the thought of never seeing Izzie again. “It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Callahan.”
“Thank you, Savannah,” she tells me with a sad smile, but I feel more pathetic now than I did last weekend. And now I have to pump myself up to go to his game on Friday.
“You look…pensive,” Lacey decides when I walk into her dorm later and collapse on my back on her roommate’s bed, that I’ve been using.
“I ran into Noah’s mom,” I admit. Hours with my own thoughts at the dealership were not great for my brain, or my heart.
“How is she doing?” There’s an edge to her voice, like she might know about aspects of Noah’s mom he likes to keep hidden.
“I tried to convince her to come to Noah’s game on Friday.”
“How did that go?”
“She turned me down.”
“Which you expected,” she calls me on it. “But you still asked because…”
“Because he deserves to have someone there when he looks up in the stands after he scores.” Or at the end of a bad game when he doesn’t.
