Noah woketo the familiar sound of the house groaning, everything shifting and settling in the predawn chill. He lay still for a moment, cataloging each creak and noise, now hyperaware of their meaning after Luke’s inspection yesterday. However, he was somewhat mollified that the sounds weren’t something actively crumbling around him.
Luke had explained the worst of the problems, constantly reassuring him the structure itself was fine. Well, mostly fine. Somewhere down the hall, a pipe knocked against the wall—probably the one Luke had assumed was improperly secured, held in place by what he’d called “hopes, prayers, and maybe some ancient chewing gum.”
Luke. Freaking. Garrett.
Noah pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to push away the memories of strong hands running over every surface of the house, a gentle voice explaining complex repairs to Eli, Luke’s shirt plastered to his chest when the pipe burst…
And dammit all to hell, Noah would think of him every time he saw the growth chart in the sitting room. Who knew the carefree handyman had a soft spot in his heart for little traditions? Noah made a mental note to ask him if there was a way they could preserve that bit of nostalgia. Maybe he’d add his own son’s growth, creating a living history of the children who’d called this home over the decades.
“Stop it,” he muttered, throwing back the covers. He didn’t have time for…whatever this was. Attraction? Curiosity? Some kind of delayed sexual crisis? He had a six-year-old to get ready for school, a house falling apart around them, and a stack of essays waiting to be graded.
The hardwood floor was cold under his feet, another item on Luke’s endless list of issues to address. The original floors could likely be refinished, he’d said, running his fingers along the grain in a way that had made Noah’s mouth go dry. But that was just professional appreciation for the craftsmanship. Nothing more.
Right.
Eli was already awake when Noah reached his room, sitting cross-legged on his bed with Luke’s notebook open in his lap. He’d refused to let go of it last night, insisting he needed to add more details to his disaster map.
“Morning, buddy.” Noah leaned against the doorframe. “Did you sleep well?”
“Uh-huh.” Eli didn’t look up from his drawing. “I had a dream about the laser level. It could shoot through walls and find treasure! Do you think Mr. Luke would let me use it to look for gold?”
“I don’t think that’s quite how it works.” Noah moved to the window, wrestling briefly with the stuck latch. Luke had said something about the frame being warped, about wood expanding and contracting with temperature changes. He’d explained it all so patiently, making even structural issues sound interesting. “Come on, time for breakfast. You can work on your map later.”
“But, Dad, I need to add the weird noise the stairs make! Mr. Luke said documentation is super important.” He stumbled overdocumentation, but it was good to know he’d listened.
“Documentation can wait until after breakfast.” Noah herded Eli toward the bathroom. “Teeth brushed, clothes on, then breakfast. You know the drill.”
In the kitchen, Noah started the coffee maker—another appliance Luke had eyed with concern, muttering something about outdated wiring—and pulled pancake ingredients from the cabinets. Eli only ever wanted cereal on weekdays, but pancakes were their Saturday tradition. Even if this particular Saturday felt different, weighted with the knowledge of everything wrong with their home.
“Can we put chocolate chips in them?” Eli appeared in the doorway, shirt on backward and hair sticking up in wild peaks. “And whipped cream? And sprinkles?”
“One sugary addition, that’s the rule.” Noah helped him fix his shirt. “Otherwise, you’ll be bouncing off the walls all morning.”
“But Mr. Luke said sugar gives you energy for working! And we’re gonna be working on the house, right? He’s coming back today?” Noah wasn’t entirely comfortable with how often Eli brought up something Luke had said. If he did have Luke workon the house, he might have to consider relaying any important parenting information through the man to ensure his son truly listened.
Noah’s hands stilled on Eli’s shoulders. “Not today, buddy. He needs to make a plan first, figure out what to fix and when. He’s going to come over tomorrow, but only to talk to me about what we need to work on first.”
“But he’s going to fix everything, right?” Eli’s expression turned serious. “He promised.”
“He’s going to help us fix things,” Noah corrected gently. “But it’s going to take time. And money.”
“I have money!” Eli darted back to his room, returning with his piggy bank. “See? I’ve been saving for a new bike, but the house is more important. Tommy said there are bike elves in town. Maybe you could tell them I gave you my bike money to fix the house, and they can help me get a bike.”
Something caught in Noah’s throat. He crouched, meeting his son’s earnest gaze. “That’s really thoughtful, buddy, but your bike fund is yours. Dad’s got this covered.”
He hoped it wasn’t a lie. The numbers Luke threw around yesterday had made his head spin, even with the promise of spreading the work out over time. But he couldn’t let Eli worry about that. His job was to provide stability, to make their home safe and comfortable. Even if that meant accepting help from someone who made him question everything he thought he knew about himself.
“Can I still help Mr. Luke when he comes back?” Eli set his piggy bank on the counter with exaggerated care. “He said I was a good helper.”
“We’ll see.” Noah turned back to the pancake batter, using the familiar motions to ground himself. “First, we need to get through the weekend. Speaking of which, we should call your mom later, tell her about the house.”
David thought it was strange Noah was so open with his ex-wife about the issues with the house he’d bought for pennies on the dollar. Then again, if Jenna was like David’s ex, he might feel the same way. Luckily, Jenna lived to hear about the latest nightmares at the house. She’d stifle her amusement, tease Noah about how trying to avoid a huge mortgage payment on something newer was biting him in the ass. Over and over and over again. Then again, she was the real dreamer between the two of them, and she’d fallen in love with the place when he’d sent her pictures. She’d looked beyond everything that clearly needed to be fixed to the framework beneath, the history. She was a lot like Luke in that way.
“Can I show her my map? And tell her about the Super Soaker pipes?”
Noah winced at the memory. “Maybe leave out the part where we flooded the kitchen. We don’t need a lecture from her about wasting water.”
“Yeah, she wouldn’t like that at all.” Noah chuckled when Eli sighed and shook his head. Jenna was currently away on a long-term assignment to help with water conservation efforts out west. She only truly got worked up when talking about how the planet had finite resources and people didn’t seem to care.
