“Last of the summer mosquitos zapped me last night,” he said, answering my silent question.
“I hate mosquitos,” I said, and stopped chewing for a moment. “Mmm, one more thing I know about myself.”
“Loves chocolate, hates mosquitos!” he said.
“You obviously work out a lot.” I pointed at his arm, my mouth still full of chocolate.
“It’s probably a cliché to say this, but I’m a bit of a CrossFit addict. I like working out, it takes my mind off work. Sometimes, I don’t have the best days. You know?” His tone changed now and that smile I’d seen seconds ago was gone. I swallowed and stopped chewing.
“You mean that sometimes the people can’t be saved?” I lowered the Kit Kat and watched his body language. He looked down at the floor and shuffled his foot across it.
“Like the man who you got Chloe from,” I said.
“Yeah. Like him. And more. So many more . . .many.” He trailed off and I inhaled sharply. I inhaled this little bolt of pain, or something. A bullet of empathy hitting me between the ribs. Physically experiencing pain on someone else’s behalf was new.
“It must be hard.” I put the Kit Kat down on the table. It didn’t seem right, eating chocolate at a time like this.
“It can be. Sometimes it’s great, though. Other times . . . it’s tough. Working out takes my mind off it. Besides, I need to keep relatively fit for my job. I’ve had to drag people out of cars, out of pools, climb over walls to get into a house, and once, climb to the first floor of an apartment. So, it’s important to keep fit.”
I observed Noah. He didn’t seem as composed as he usually was. There was an undercurrent of restlessness to him now. The way he was now tapping his foot on the floor, the way he’d interlaced his fingers and was twisting them around ever so slightly. I leaned forward, wanting to suddenly take him by the hand and make him feel better, as he’d made me feel better, but I didn’t. He looked up at me and I gave him a smile, one that I hoped conveyed I was here and listening to him.
“I think what you do is amazing,” I said.
“Thanks.” He held my gaze and, this time, I held it back. Even though it felt difficult, as if holding his gaze was physically heavy, it was weighed down with something invisible.
“You wake up each morning and go out and save lives. How many people can say that? I bet not that many. But that’s what you do! And you do it well.” I carried on talking and Noah kept smiling and holding my gaze.
“I try to do it well, every time.” He broke the heavy eye contact. “There’s a lot of pressure, though. You have to get it right, make the right decisions quickly, sometimes so fast you don’t even know you’re making decisions. And each one is so important, because if you mess up, or make the wrong choice in a moment, it could mean death . . . sorry, I’m rambling now. I’m just talking. You probably don’t want to hear all this.”
“I do!” I said, so emphatically that it caused him to look up at me again and, this time, he graced me with one of his big smiles. The full, little-gap smile that seemed to have the ability to lighten everything around it. Like a lighthouse on a dark night.
“Thanks. You’re a good listener.” He paused for a while and looked at me. “And now we know another thing about you.”
“What?” I reached for my Kit Kat again as the mood in the room lifted.
“Well, you’re obviously a really good friend, and listener.”
“You think?” I asked, perking up. I liked the sound of that.
“I’m pretty sure you’re a good friend to a lot of people.”
And then a thought hit me. An uncomfortable one. “But if I am, then why hasn’t anyone come looking for me yet?”
“I’m sure it won’t be long now,” he said, ignoring my actual question. On purpose, no doubt.
I sat back in my chair and took another bite of my chocolate. But as much as I was enjoying it, it wasn’t enough to drown out a voice in the back of my head that kept asking, why had I not been found yet? Who was looking for me?
“I bet that by this time tomorrow, you’ll be home.” Noah picked up the remote and pointed it back at the TV. The last frame of the chocolate commercial was still frozen there.
I wanted to believe him, I really did, but something inside was finding it hard to do so.
“Right,Game of Thrones, season one, episode one!” Noah announced, pressing play and getting comfortable in the seat. The anthemic theme music blasted into the room and we both jumped in fright as Noah scrambled to turn the volume down.
“The sound is huge on here!” Noah shouted.
“Well, it is the world’s biggest TV,” I replied.
“Are you mocking my TV?”
