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Noah seized the opportunity. “Could I have a TV in my room?”
Kelsey raised an eyebrow. “Noah…”
“Worth a shot,” the boy shrugged, unrepentant. “What about sleepovers? My friend Tyler has a game room where they have sleepovers. Do you have a game room, Mac?”
“Not yet,” Mac found himself saying. “But we could make one, I suppose.”
Noah seemed to consider this seriously. “And the pool, can we use it whenever we want? Even at night?”
“The pool is heated,” Mac added. “So it’s usable most of the year.”
“With supervision,” Kelsey interjected.
“Cool!” Noah’s excitement was palpable. “And what about the boat? Can we take it out any time we want? Remember you promised we’d go?”
Mac smiled, warmed by the boy’s enthusiasm. “I did promise that, didn’t I? We’ll definitely do that soon.”
“When can we move?” Noah pressed, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Tomorrow?”
Mac laughed. “Not quite that soon, buddy.”
“But when it’s ready, we’ll live there?” Noah persisted.
Mac looked to Kelsey, who nodded slightly. “Yes,” Mac confirmed. “When it’s ready and you both want to, we’ll live there.”
Noah seemed satisfied with this answer, turning his attention back to his pizza. Mac caught Kelsey’s eye across the table. Her grateful smile sent warmth spreading through his chest.
After dinner, as Kelsey gathered the plates, she glanced at her watch. “Noah, honey, it’s getting late. Why don’t you and Mac go for a quick walk before your bath? It’s a school night, and we need to get you back into your routine.”
Mac and Noah put on their coats and made their way down the path to their beach. The familiar location had Mac feeling at ease, and he and Noah slipped into their comfortable routine of looking for treasures washed up in the sand.
As they walked along, Noah’s expression grew serious. “Mac, Mom says Mr. Costigan really sick. That he’s going to die soon.”
Mac was startled by the directness of the statement. “You know about things like that?”
“Yeah, Mom tells me. Everyone dies. You know that right, Mac?”
Of course Noah would have a different relationship with death than most children, growing up with a mother who worked in healthcare and discussed these matters openly.
“Yes,” Mac said finally, his voice rougher than he intended. “He is very sick.”
“That’s sad,” Noah said simply. “But Mom says it’s okay to be sad when people die. She says it means we loved them a lot.”
Mac’s throat tightened unexpectedly. “Your mom is very wise.”
“I’d like to see him. Do you think he’d want to meet me? Before he dies?” Noah asked, his innocent question landing like a punch to Mac’s solar plexus.
“I know he would,” Mac managed. He recalled Noah had been sound asleep the night Kelsey had brought him to Truman’s emergency. “He’s asked about you.”
Noah nodded, satisfied with this answer. A piece of sea glass got his attention for a moment. Then, after a brief pause: “So, are you my dad now?”
Mac felt something lurch in his chest. “Technically, I’m your stepdad.”
“Mom said you might adopt me,” Noah continued, his gaze direct and unflinching. “What does that mean, exactly?”
Mac took a deep breath. “It means I would legally become your father. Your name could be Noah MacCormack, if you wanted. And no one could ever separate you from your mom or me.”
“Would it make you my real dad, then?” Noah’s small face was serious.
