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CHAPTER THREE
NOAH
Saturday morning and I wake up early to run in the park. My brother Blake is waiting for me in front of our building. We each occupy a floor with our own penthouse apartment.
“Thought you’d be too hungover to run,” I say, looking into his bloodshot eyes.
“You can’t imagine,” he says.
I take off jogging. “Let’s go.”
We don’t go as far as normal because Blake is having a hard time keeping up. Has to stop and heave into some bushes, but he soldiers on. And that’s Blake for you. Never quits.
Back at the building, I tell him he shouldn’t feel obligated to hit the weight room with me. But he won’t hear of it. “If you’re going to lift, then so am I.”
“All right.”
We spend twenty minutes pumping iron, and I decide that’s enough. Can’t put Blake through this anymore. His clothes are marinated in sweat, and his face is the color of vanilla ice cream.
“I’m calling it,” I tell him.
“You sure? ‘Cause I can go all day.”
I stop myself from laughing. “I’m sure.”
“All right.”
We stroll to the elevator and step in. I punch the button to go up because I don’t think Blake has the strength to raise his arm. I watch him as we climb. Poor bastard.
“You get Mom her present yet?” he asks me.
Her birthday is tomorrow, and I’ve been putting off the gift shopping. Been waiting for inspiration or an idea, but neither wants to come. I mean, what can you get a woman who lacks nothing? I’m asking.
“Not yet,” I answer. “You?”
“Of course.”
That figures. “What’d you get her?”
“Stationery set. You know how old-fashioned she is. Still sends handwritten notes, for crying out loud. Anyway, I thought she’d like it.”
She probably will.
“I’m having trouble thinking of something,” I say and allow my shoulders to slump. Why is this so hard?
The elevator stops at Blake’s floor. The door opens, and he steps out. “Go to Macy’s. You can find something there.
“You think?”
“Of course.”
Blake wishes me luck as the elevator closes.
I’m going to need it.
* * *
I quickly clean up and begin my search for the perfect present.
