Page 16 of Noah


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I killed some time playing ridiculous games on my phone that Linda had liked to compete with me at, and then I tossed the laundry into the dryer. In forty minutes, I'd be back under the covers.

"Food," I muttered.

I was running low on microwaveables, and the real groceries Nicky had bought the first day were going bad. But I had milk and cereal, so I went with that.

Happy fuckin' Fourth of July.

Technically, it wasn't for another three days, but I didn't see anything changing in that time.

When the doorbell rang, I frowned. Tennyson and Sophie had packed up the kids and their youngest pup and were probably nearing San Francisco at this point, and Daniel and Zane lived in New York.

Brooklyn, maybe?

While Tennyson and Sophie wanted a road trip along the coast and quality time with the family, Brooklyn and Asher were flying up with their two daughters. They all owned a beach house in Vancouver with Tennyson and Asher's folks. I'd been there, and I'd been invited this year too, but spending that day with people who were happy and in love…? Fuck no.

I'd ruin their whole vacation with my misery.

I shoved a spoonful of milk and Froot Loops into my mouth and headed for the hallway. The spoon was still in my mouth when I looked through the peephole, shocked to see Julian standing there. Opening the door, I raised my brows and let him in.

I removed the spoon. "This is a surprise, kid."

A good one, it felt like.

He passed me, head down, and dropped a bag and a guitar case on the hallway floor. "It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you'd checked your email. I called you three times last week, too."

Fuck. I was failing at this uncle gig.

"Then I called Daniel yesterday." He cleared his throat and fidgeted with a loose thread in his ratty hoodie. "He and Sophie gave me their numbers after the memorial service, so…" Sounded like something they'd do. Both of them were caregivers. "He suggested I fly out and kick your door in. I don't think he was joking."

I snorted and jerked my chin for him to follow me. "No, they're all a bunch of worriers. How did you get into the building?"

"Someone was leaving when I arrived." He shrugged and took in the empty loft. When I said empty, I meant there was nothing in the large space aside from the bed, the flat screen on the wall, and a couple boxes of photo albums. "Did you just move in?"

"No." I set the bowl in the sink and then turned around, hopping up to sit on the counter. "I broke up with my girlfriend and wanted to get rid of everything." I rubbed the back of my neck, a bit embarrassed. With Julian here, my failure at being an adult shone brighter than the sun.

"A fresh start." He nodded, avoiding eye contact. "Kind of why I'm here, I guess. If you don't mind. I mean, I'll look for my own place, but I can't stay with Grandma and Grandpa anymore, and I don't want to go home."

"Stay as long as you want, Julian." It was honest. I had to get my shit together, and maybe if I had someone with me, like back when I had roommates, I wouldn't be a walking train wreck anymore. "Pick a room. The one farthest down the hall is my new study, which is a nice way of putting it. It's more of a room I just threw my personal shit in." I had some awards, my college diploma, photos, and framed scripts of projects I'd been involved with that I treasured. "Anyway, there are two other rooms—both emptier than California's water supply."

Which reminded me, now I really had to get some furniture. The energy to do it remained completely fucking dead, but a sense of responsibility rose in me. I was a pathetic motherfucker these days, though if I could succeed at being an uncle, it could lead to more. Like eating better, going back to work…

"Where do you sleep?" he asked, a crease forming in his forehead.

I nodded at the bed.

"Ah."

Yeah…

This was probably not what he'd expected.

"Pick a room and leave your stuff there," I told him, getting down from the counter again. "I'll change the sheets, and then we can order some shit you'll need."

He nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Looking down in the sink, I cringed before I followed him to get to the laundry room. Frat kids lived better. So… No more reusing Styrofoam bowls from Panera. No more sporks.

After making my bed smell fresh and clean again, I picked up my laptop from the floor and sat down. Julian joined me and sat down too, and I didn't like how cautious he seemed to be around me. I was the fun uncle, goddammit. Linda and JJ had always gotten a kick outta the crap I taught them.

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