“So you’re going to let him go?”
“Probably,” he replied, kicking a pebble onto the pavement. He didn’t sound certain to me.
“I figured you might miss your little sidekick,” I said carefully.
“Yeah, I’m going to miss the little guy,” Marcus said, his voice sounding rougher than before. His gaze fell to Noah, who was almost finished with his ice cream.
“There’s no rule that says you have to turn him over to family. Brandon and Stacey chose you to be his guardian.”
“Legally, yeah, but I feel selfish for keeping him here, especially when he has family in another state. I mean, bottom line, she’s right, isn’t she? He’s doing better now, but how much more would he thrive if he were in a stable home with other kids?”
“You underestimate what you mean to him,” I said in a quiet voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Marcus, I see the way he looks at you, the way he sometimes reaches for your hand. He feels safe with you. Frankly, there’s a reason your friend and his wife designated you as the guardian of their child. You should think aboutthat. In my line of work, I can tell you, parents do not make such an important decision lightly.”
He remained silent and took another sip of coffee before he spoke again. “I’ve thought about why they chose me, and I don’t fully understand it, because I don’t think my actions while theywere alive suggested I was the best person to take care of a kid. But I have been thinking about Zenobia, his aunt. Something about her constant demand to take in Noah doesn’t sit right with me. She seems almost...desperateto have him.”
“I think we’re both having the same thought.”
“The insurance money,” we said at the same time.
Chapter 8
Julia
“During our first conversation, she casually said, ‘I’m sure Brandon made sure Noah would be well provided for.’ At the time, I thought she was just making conversation, but I know better now. She’s been way too persistent.” Marcus sighed.
“Which is probably why they chose you to be his guardian,” I pointed out. “You don’t care about the money. You care about the boy.”
I was too entangled in their personal affairs and had probably said too much, but I wanted to reassure Marcus that if he decided to keep Noah, he wasn’t making a mistake. We should be making the best choices for his godson, and as Noah’s advocate, I believed Marcus was the right choice.
Noah wandered over, his lips pushed into a pout and his brow wrinkled. “I don’t feel so good.”
Marcus dropped to his haunches. “What’s wrong?”
“My tummy hurts,” Noah said, and then he proceeded to rub his stomach.
“Too much ice cream,” Marcus said in a solemn tone.
“No,” Noah wailed, probably because he saw his chance of having ice cream every day slipping away.
“I think you’ve had enough ice cream to last you until at least the next week.” Marcus stood. “We’d better go.”
He said the words reluctantly, suggesting he didn’t really want to leave. I didn’t want him to leave, either, but I needed to get back to work and finish up some of my reports. Taking time away from my desk every day meant I had to make up the work on the backend by staying later.
Not that I minded. I enjoyed spending time with him and Noah, whom I was beginning to think of less as his godson and more like his son as I observed their interactions. That was another reason why I thought it might be a good idea for him to keep Noah here. Their relationship was growing stronger.
Noah grasped Marcus’s hand and rested his head against his hip.
“I know that look. He’s done for today,” I remarked.
“Yeah, no doubt. Come on, Robin.”
Marcus lifted Noah into his arms with ease, and the little boy flung his arms around his neck and rested his head on his shoulder. The move made my ovaries vibrate. Me, a woman who had insisted she never wanted to be a mother.
We walked to the park entrance and waited for a lull in the traffic.
