Noah watched him go, something complicated crossing his features. “You’re good at that. Keeping him distracted.”
“Yeah, well”—Luke set down his tools, studying the ceiling crack—“sometimes the best way to handle chaos is to give it a job.” He glanced at Noah, noting the way his hands trembled slightly. “That goes for grown-ups too. Want to help?”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the storm’s chaos faded. Then thunder cracked directly overhead, making them both jump.
“Right.” Luke turned back to his tools. “As much as I’d love to tell you everything’s going to be okay, I won’t insult you like that.But I will say everything’s still fixable. There’s no point in getting buckets for all of this. I’m going to run out to my truck and grab a wet-dry vacuum. I want you to work on sucking up as much of this water as you can so it doesn’t do more damage to the ceilings below. I’m going to see if I can get up on the roof to put some tarps over the worst areas.”
“Are you insane?” Noah’s voice echoed off the walls of the small room. “If it was windier out there, this would be an inland hurricane. You can’t be up on a ladder.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure we have many other options.” Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly opening the weather app. “By the time I get started, it looks like we should be between waves of this storm. I promise I’ll be as safe as I can, but I don’t think either of us wants there to be more damage.”
Noah crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “If it’s all the same to you, what I don’t want is for you to slide off the roof and then I have to explain to your sisters that you died trying to help me.”
“Quit being dramatic.” Luke waved him off. “I promise, if it’s not safe for me to be up there, I’ll come down. But I think I’ll be fine.” He pulled back the sheer curtain covering the small window in the room. “See? It’s already starting to let up a bit. Perfect timing.”
“Shit.” Luke heard a noise overhead and moved without thinking, grabbing Noah’s arm and pulling him away from the wall as a section of the ceiling gave way. They stumbled backward, Noah’s back hitting Luke’s chest as water and plaster rained down.
For three hammering heartbeats, they stood frozen. Luke could feel Noah’s rapid breathing, could smell the rain on his skinmixed with traces of that subtle cologne. His hands had somehow found Noah’s waist, steadying him, and Noah’s fingers were wrapped around Luke’s forearms like anchors in a storm.
“Dad! Mr. Luke!” Eli’s voice carried up the stairs. “The dining room’s making weird noises again!”
They sprang apart like teenagers caught making out. Luke cleared his throat, determinedly not looking at the way Noah’s wet shirt clung to his shoulders. “We should…”
“Yeah.” Noah ran a hand through his damp hair. “Do you think?—”
Another crash, this one from downstairs.
“Eli!” Noah called, already moving. “Stay in the kitchen!”
They found Eli in the hallway, disaster map clutched to his chest, staring wide-eyed at the dining room ceiling. Another massive bulge had formed in the plaster, water dripping steadily from its center.
“Cool,” Eli breathed. “It’s like a water balloon!”
“Not cool,” Luke corrected, assessing the damage. “That’s about to—” The plaster creaked ominously. “Noah, grab Eli. Now.”
Noah scooped up his son as the ceiling surrendered to gravity. Water cascaded down, bringing chunks of hundred-year-old plaster with it. Eli squealed in delight, but Luke caught Noah’s expression—pure devastation as he watched his home literally fall apart.
“Hey.” Luke touched Noah’s shoulder, grounding him. “We can fix this. All of it. But right now, we need to contain the damage before?—”
Thunder drowned out his next words, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the way Noah looked at him—desperate, trusting, like Luke was the only thing standing between his family and disaster. What mattered was how Eli’s excitement had shifted to concern as he watched his father’s face. What mattered was the sudden, crushing realization that Luke couldn’t walk away from them if he tried.
Luke stepped into Noah’s personal space, taking Eli’s hand to hold his attention as he spoke. “Buddy, this is very important. I need to know you can follow my directions.”
The boy pursed his lips, nodding solemnly.
“Good. I need you to stay in the kitchen for a little bit.” Somehow, the room they thought was the priority had tumbled to the bottom of the list. While it wasn’t pretty, it was mostly functional, and it wouldn’t do any good to do any renovation as long as the roof was leaking and the ceiling was saturated. Luke could handle the interior work, but he’d have to call in some favors for the roofing. “I promise that as soon as we have a job you can help us with, I’ll put you to work. But for now, what your dad and I really need is to know you’re safe. Got it?”
Eli gave a quick nod. “Got it, Mr. Luke. Should I keep taking notes on the map?”
Luke didn’t have the heart to tell Eli the map was a lost cause at this point. Everything they’d thought the house needed had been upended by the storm. But that was something a six-year-old didn’t need to worry himself with.
“You can, butonlywrite down things you know without having to leave the kitchen until your dad tells you it’s okay to leave the room. If you finish with that, I want you to start a new pagewith ideas for what you want your bedroom to look like when it’s done.”
“I can design my own room?” Eli looked to Noah for confirmation.
“Sure,” Noah responded with a resigned sigh. At this point, Luke doubted he could imagine them getting the house back into shape for them to live in, much less consider renovating. “Do what Luke said, and then we’ll look at your plans.”
Eli slipped on the sopping floor as he rushed into the kitchen. Once he was gone, Noah sagged against the wall. “Do you seriously think this can be fixed?”
