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“My mother is a great cook. I used to help her in the kitchen growing up.”
“She makes the best pies.” Noah talks around a ball of food in her cheek. “I’ll save you some on Thanksgiving. You have to taste them.”
The fact that Noah is already thinking ahead to Thanksgiving makes me smile. “My mom used to be a good cook too.”
Noah frowns as she looks to her dad. “Lenny’s mom has early Alzheimer’s.”
Grant lays his fork down on the table. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug like it’s not the most devastating to ever happen to me. “She used to make the best chocolate cake. Now I make it and bring it to the nursing home when I visit.”
“Why did you say your dad was a jerk?”
“Noah.” Grant holds up a hand. “Excuse my daughter. She has no manners.”
Noah’s eyes widen. “Dad, she literally said it herself. I’m just asking why.”
“It’s okay, really. He worked hard and took care of the bills and the house. But he wasn’t a family man. He didn’t spend time with me, or help me with schoolwork. He said some mean things to me. I was more of a bother to him than anything else.” I hike a shoulder. “And then he died, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I still don’t. I can’t say I missed the good times, because there weren’t any. Still, I feel sad that he’s gone. It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird.” Noah reaches over and clasps my hand. “You miss what you wished you could’ve had. Just like you told me about my mom.”
One corner of my mouth turns up. “You’re right.”
Grant listens as we talk, his eyes flicking between us, but offers nothing to our conversation. The way he looks at me is as if he’s trying to figure me out. He might have invited me into his home, but he’s still cautious about me being around his daughter.
Does he ever let his guard down?
Noah scampers off to her room after dinner, and Grant pushes his chair back from the table and carries his plate to the sink.
I stand and stack Noah’s plate on mine. “I’ll help with the dishes.”
“You are not doing the dishes.” Grant blocks the sink. “You are a guest, and guests do not do dishes.”
“Fine.” I give the kitchen one more glance before I turn around. “Thank you for dinner. Seriously, you’re a great cook.”
“You’re welcome here anytime. Noah likes your company.”
The invitation warms my chest. But then his words repeat in my head, and I realize: Noah isn’t the only one who could use the company.
How long has Grantreallybeen alone?
“I should be the one thanking you.” Grant clears his throat. “I heard what you were talking about earlier, outside with Noah, that it doesn’t matter if I’m a mom or a dad—as long as I love her.”
“It’s the truth.”
He nods. “Good night, Elena.”
A small smile blooms on my face as I walk back across the street. And a week ago, I would’ve never believed that my grumpy neighbor across the street would be the one to put it there.
9
Elena
The next day,Grant and I set up a schedule for tutoring Noah.
I’ll be there three nights a week, and he’ll repay me by cooking dinner.
Not a bad deal, if you ask me.
