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“For being the best dad ever.” She reaches over and squeezes me tight.
Hope runs by us, chasing after who knows what, but Maggie scoops her up. “And for Hope,” she concludes, planting a big, slobbery kiss on the kitten’s head.
I pull Maggie toward me with Hope still in her arms, praying today’s not the day the cat decides she’s tired of being handled like a doll. Maggie nestles against me, and my worries melt when I hear Hope purr.
“I love you, sweet girl,” I say, and Maggie takes off up the stairs.
Somehow, neither Noah nor I have become talented chefs in the time since I’ve moved in. My mom always made chicken noodle soup anytime I felt under the weather. I grabbed several cans at the grocery store because it’s something Maggie will eat without a fuss, and I hope some warm soup will comfort Noah.
While the soup heats on the stove, I make my way to Noah, still wrapped up in the throw blanket I placed over her. She’s sad and distant tonight.
“I got you some stuff at the store. Hopefully, it’ll make you feel better. Hannah swore by elderberry syrup, so I grabbed some of that, along with the cold medicine, if you want to give it a shot.”
“Thanks,” she says, not meeting my eyes.
“There are some boxes of tissues—the good kind. Having a cold is bad enough without getting a raw nose from cheap tissues.” She cracks a small smile at my assessment.
“You okay?”
“I’m okay. Feeling overwhelmed at this second.”
“From Maggie and I being here?”
“God, no.” She picks at a thread on the throw blanket, unraveling a piece on the corner.
“My brother’s social worker called while you were out.”
“Is he okay?” I don’t know how any of this guardianship or brother-in-jail situation works.
“He’s fine. His sentencing was finally today. The judge gave him a year in jail with the possibility of early parole.” We sit together in silence, only the sound of the girls moving above us punctuating the air. “I don’t know why I feel sad. Georgia—that’s his social worker—told me this would be the outcome. She actually expected worse since Rainey was with him when he was arrested.”
I say nothing, but nod to show I’m actively listening. Noah has volunteered no information about her brother’s arrest before today. “I guess Dunbar will stay in jail for quite a while, and I’ll keep Rainey.”
“I’m glad Rainey has you. I don’t know about your brother, but I know she’s safe here with you.”
“Rainey’s had a tough life,” Noah divulges. “My brother’s had a tough life, too, I guess. He didn’t handle Rainey’s mom leaving very well. I tried to help all I could—all he would let me.” Her voice quivers and the smallest tear slips out of the corner of her eye. “But he turned to drugs before I could do anything to help him.”
“Just a sec,” I say and give the soup on the stove a quick stir before retrieving the tissue box off the counter. “Here.” I hand her the box.
“I feel defeated. I’ve tried hard to right his wrongs these last few years. I know addiction’s complicated, but goddamn this hurts.” Noah tries to catch her tears with the tissue, but they’re exiting her eyes quicker than she can keep up. Instead, she takes the entire throw blanket and smashes it against her face to sop up the wetness. “I swear I don’t normally cry this much.”
“I’m a crier, too. Remember the other night?” She nods, and a fresh wave of tears flow.
“I just want my brother to be okay. I want him back. I want Dunbar to be the dad Rainey deserves and I want him to love her the way I see you love Maggie. I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” I glance at the staircase, but Maggie and Rainey are either still getting ready for bed or have gotten distracted and pulled every toy in their rooms out to play.
“Afr-fraid I won’t be able to help him. Afraid it’s too late and I’m going to lose my little brother. He’s the only family I have.”
I tentatively pat her back. Nothing I say will make her feel better. I don’t even have any words; I’ve never been in this situation and I don’t know anyone else who has, besides Noah. The news reports it’s becoming more common, though.
“Hopefully, some time in jail will help him get clean. Maybe it will give him time to think and get a fresh start.”
“I’ve lost count, but I think this may be his seventh or eighth arrest.” She shrugs. “He’s been to rehab—hell, I’ve paid to send him to private rehab programs hoping they’d be more effective. He’s crashed and burned out of every program he’s been through.” She slumps against the couch. Her breathing steadies, and her tears slow. A stony expression settles on her face. “I can’t give up on him, but I’m exhausted. This last time, before his August arrest, was the best stint he’s had in years. I hoped this would be the time he turns all of this around, but he distanced himself and stopped letting me see Rainey; and he added another DUI and a child-endangerment to his record.”
“He was drunk with Rainey in the car?” My mouth hangs open.
“Yeah. I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to Rainey. Or my brother. I just need . . . I just need things to change.” The strong front she’s been rebuilding crumbles, and a cry claws out from her throat.
