“No, Noah. You jumped off a shed. That rules out sliding to home plate for at least a few weeks.”
“Uugghh.” He threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I have to practice.”
“You don’t even like baseball.”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes flared.
“Okay. Fine. You like baseball,” I conceded. We’d had this discussion before. Noah only liked baseball because his father liked baseball. “Sorry.”
The nurse walked in to check Noah’s vitals, effectively saving me from a conversation about Nick and his absentee parenting.
“How’s my favorite patient?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Can I have some ice cream?”
“Let me check first to see if it’s allowed on your diet, okay?”
“I’m not on a diet,” Noah replied.
“I meant your hospital diet.” He laughed and then turned to me. “I love this kid.”
“Me too,” I agreed, taking Noah’s hand in mine as the nurse finished his duties and left.
“You hear that?” I beamed. “He loves you.”
“Yep.” Noah nodded with such confidence. “Lots of people love me. You. Dad. Grandma Ledger. Grandpa Ledger. Dylan.”
I blinked. Had I just heard him correctly?
“Dylan? Babe, me and Dylan broke up seven months ago.”
“So? He loves me. He told me so himself.”
I almost fell back onto the tray for a second time. Dylan and I had dated a grand total of two months. “When?”
“That day we went to the lake to fish. He took me to the pier while you were waiting on the beach. I asked him if he loved you, and he said yes, and then I asked him if he loved me too, and he said yes.”
I could only imagine the sheer horror in Dylan’s eyes when he’d gotten that doozy of a question from his brand spankin’ new girlfriend’s kid. “Oh, honey… that’s just… uh.”
“Call him, Mom,” Noah said with such confidence. “He’ll want to come see me.”
This conversation had only one way to go and it was down.
“No, Noah. Dylan won’t come see you.”
“Yes. He. Will.”
I could hear his frustration. Noah had easily bonded with the few boyfriends I’d had over the years and had been devastated with each and every breakup. But he’d never verbalized his disillusion until today. “Just because he doesn’t loveyouanymore doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love me.”
I looked away, not wanting Noah to see the sadness in my eyes. I wasn’t sad about Dylan. We weren’t right for each other. No, I was sad that he’d given my son hope that a man might stay.
“Noah, listen. Dylan has a new girlfriend. He’s moved on. I’m sure he was really fond of you—who wouldn’t be—but he’s not coming to see you.”
“Because you won’t call,” he blurted out. “You told him to go like you tell everyone to go. Marc loved me too. And so did Elijah. But you made them leave. Not everything’s about you, Mom.”
Tears burst from his eyes. I grabbed hold and held him until he’d had his cry, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Noah’s accusation. What damage was I inflicting on my son by introducing him to men who would fill that empty hole in his heart only to rip them out of his life when it ended?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know he meant that much to you.”
