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Brazen
Early morning traffic and red lights have dominated the first few hours of my day while I’ve been in my car, cursing under my breath and gripping the steering wheel. When I finally park at the job site, I stretch my arms over my head and twist my back. Benson waves at me from the porch across the street and then quickly scurries inside after I lift my hand back. I turn from Noah’s old place, and as I do, something catches my eye.
Something troubling.
Something I wish I weren’t seeing.
Ashy-blonde hair, long legs, and an intensely familiar face come into view, and it shocks me. I’m moving before I have a plan. That person, this woman checking out the house I just took my eyes from, can only be related to one person—Noah. Her aging face is filled with Botox that hides the emerging wrinkles, but there is no mistaking the similarities.
At very first glance, I thought it was my girl. A driver lays on their horn when I don’t pay close enough attention while crossing the street without looking. I dodge and speed up to avoid becoming roadkill.
Once I’m to the other side, I approach her and ask, “Can I help you?” The hostility in my voice is strong.
“No, you can’t.” Her voice even sounds like Noah’s. She clutches her purse tight beneath her armpit, as if she’s afraid I’m going to steal it from her, and she takes a few steps away from me.
I can’t let her go, not before I know what she wants.
“You’re Noah’s mom, aren’t you?”
Her head swings back in my direction, and she narrows her eyes at me. “Where is she? I tracked her down to this place, but I’ve been watching, and it doesn’t look like she’s here.”
“What do you want?” Because I’m not telling her anything about Noah until I know her intentions. It’s as if her mother felt her daughter’s release of resentment and chose now to pop up out of nowhere.
“I want to see my daughter.” There is an air of arrogance about this woman. Her posture is rigid, and her tone is clipped. It’s as if she thinks she’s too good to be standing outside, speaking with me.
I have zero concern about her ego or comfort or overinflated sense of self-importance.
“Do you care if your daughter wants to see you?”
The fact that she already feels like she has the right to Noah is not a good sign.
“Of course she wants to see me. I don’t know who you are, young man, but if you know where Noah is, then you need to tell me.”
Me. Me. Me. That’s all I’ve heard from her.
I need to tell her.
I don’t need to do shit.
There is nothing funny about this situation, but I find myself chuckling.
“There is a coffee place down the road. Come with me, and we’ll talk this out.” I point in the general direction of the establishment.
“I’m not going with you anywhere. Who do you think you are? I’ll find her myself.”
She moves toward Benson and Madison’s home but takes only a few steps before my words stop her in her tracks.
“I’m the man who loves Noah. You won’t find her in that house, and no one there will tell you where she is either. If you want to speak to Noah, you’re going to have to go through me. So, let’s go, coffee down the street.” There is no room for miscommunication as I lay my terms down on the table.
I walk without even checking if she follows. She came all this way, so I assume she’s behind me. Her heels click against the cement as I walk, which alerts me that I’m right.
Two women who look so much alike couldn’t be more different. I could sense that from the moment I saw her up close.
After walking for a few minutes, we reach the shop, and I hold the door open. I haven’t completely forgotten my manners. I follow her inside, and we get coffee and then sit. My morning just took a drastic turn. I almost wish I were still berating the steering while stuck in traffic. No, I totally wish that were where I still was.
“I want to see her.” Her stern voice sets me on edge, and her insistence rubs me the wrong way. She’s testing my control in every possible way.
“No. That isn’t how this is going to work.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I hold my hand up and lean forward. “After all these years, after what you did, why do you think you have the right to demand anything? You haven’t asked me how she is or if she wants to see you or anything. You’re just demanding what you want. You’re going to answer my questions, and Noah will decide if she wants to see you.”
