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“Maybe you should pay attention to your driving, Helen. You just missed the turn.” Genevieve allowed the barest hint of a smile to settle on her lips as she added, “I think I’ll see how it goes with the tropical fish first.”
“I’m intrigued,” said Noah, eyeing with interest the grocery sack Willow set upon the kitchen counter. “My mother was a wonderful person, but the only kind of mac and cheese she ever made came out of a box. With orange powder.”
“Well, I warned you not to expect anything fancy, but homemade mac and cheese is Drew’s and Emma’s favorite celebration food.”
“I don’t care about food,” Drew declared. “I want to see my room! Can we go see my room, please?”
Willow reached over and clapped one hand across her son’s mouth and pointed toward the living room with the other. “Lower your voice, Drew. Remember, Nana is rocking AJ to sleep.”
“He’s getting close,” Helen said, glancing away from her perusal of the bookshelves that lined one wall of the great room and toward the rocking chair where Genevieve tended the toddler.
Noah winked at Drew. “I’ll show them their rooms if that’s okay with you, Willow.”
“Sure. Thanks, Noah.” Emma and Drew began rushing toward the staircase. Willow added a warning note to her voice as she called after them. “Quiet feet! Let Mr. Noah go first.”
He’d suggested the change to his name to make it easier for the kids, and the Eldridges had enthusiastically agreed. As he led the children up the stairs, Noah was surprisingly nervous, which was stupid. What did it matter if the kids liked the things he’d put out for them? Drew had his own things. Hell, Noah’s stuff was old. Nothing used a computer chip to run. And Emma, well, she was female. What made him ever think he knew what a female might want?
“Wow!” Drew stepped into a room that still smelled likepaint. “Oh, wow. A telescope. There’s a telescope in the window.”
“Don’t touch the walls,” Noah warned. “Paint is still wet.”
He’d painted a fantasy galaxy on one wall—stars, planets, and a nebula. He’d gotten a bit carried away, but circles were quick and easy to paint. Once he’d remembered the telescope and all the books about space, well, he figured Drew was just about the right age.
Emma walked up to Noah and pulled on his pants leg. “Do I have a telescope, Mr. Noah?”
“No, sunshine. I have something else for you.” Noah’s nerves ratcheted up another notch as he led the little girl—Drew wasn’t budging from his space—to the room next door.
Already decorated in pink-and-white ruffles and butterflies for Daniel’s Maddie, the room now also included a child-sized table and two chairs he’d brought down from the attic. Atop the table sat drawing paper, coloring books, markers, and a brand-new sixty-four-count box of crayons.
This room had a bay window with a built-in window seat, making it the bedroom’s centerpiece. He watched Emma’s face as she saw what he’d placed there. “It’s a house. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”
“Let me show you how it works.” He crossed the room and after a moment’s hesitation, went down on his knees.Only a twinge of pain. Making progress.Pleased, he focused his attention on wide-eyed Emma and smiled as he flipped up the latches that allowed the roof and walls to open, revealing the rooms inside. “It’s a dollhouse. See? Here’s all the furniture. You can move it around any way you like. Here are some dolls. You can make them be Emmas or Drews or mommies.”
“Or daddies?”
Noah cleared his throat. “Daddies, too. Here are some clothes in this wardrobe. I made a couple of dogs, too. See?”
“Puppies! Oh, Mr. Noah! You made this dollhouse? All by yourself ?”
“I did.”
“Do you play with dolls?”
“No.” Noah chuckled. “But I heard you do. So I made it for you.”
Her eyes went round as the Earth on Drew’s bedroom wall. “What? For me? For keeps?”
“For keeps.”
“Oh, Mr. Noah, thank you! But why did you do this for me? It’s not my birthday, and it’s not Christmas, either.”
“Well, when you asked me to dance at your uncle Jake’s wedding, I was grumpy, and I wasn’t very nice to you. I felt bad about that. I wanted to apologize, so I made you a dollhouse.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Noah.” Emma threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. “We all get grumpy sometimes. Mama says I’m her little ray of sunshine. Maybe I’m just your little ray of sunshine, too.”
“I guess you are.”
“If that’s not the sweetest thing I’ve seen in a month of Sundays,” came Helen’s voice from behind them.
