“Can I meet him?”
I have to look away because looking at her – mascara running down her face like a Sunset Strip street walker – isn’t doing much good for me. I hate seeing her like this and, sadly, it’s my most vivid memory of her.
“Why should I let you?”
“You shouldn’t. I’m not a good person, Liam. I know that. I try, though, all the time to do something good for someone. I’m trying to be independent and not so—“
“Robotic?”
“Is that how you saw me?”
“Yeah it is,” I say moving toward the door. “You can meet him, but Sterling can’t. I don’t want him anywhere near my son.”
She nods and follows me into the house. Noah is sitting on the steps with the supplies in his hands. “What are you doing sitting there?” I ask him.
“You were having a private conversation. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“He’s so polite.” I nod because he is. Josie has raised him well.
“The bathroom is down the hall, Noah and I will clean up this mess.”
Bianca Westbury walks down the hall in a home that I own. I swear I never thought I’d see this day in my lifetime. We clean up the mess and Noah hoses down the porch. I’m afraid the steps will ice over tonight, so we’ll have to watch that in the morning.
“Who’s the lady?’ he asks. I want to say a stranger, but she’s here and asking for an opportunity that I’m certain Josie wouldn’t want her to have. I suppose if she wants to see Noah, she can come over here and do it.
I look over my shoulder to see Bianca standing there wringing her hands. She’s cleaned up the best she can, but she’s nervous. I’ve never seen her so unsure of herself. I motion for her to sit down in the living room. She takes one of the wing back chairs while Noah and I sit on the couch.
“Remember when you asked if you could meet my parents?” Noah nods. His eyes light up at the mention of my parents. I wish they didn’t, they really aren’t anything to write home about. “Noah, this is Bianca Westbury, my mom.”
Noah looks at my mom as if he’s studying her, learning everything he can about her. She pats down her hair and smiles softly at him. She clasps her hands and then straightens out her skirt again.
Noah looks back and forth between us and shrugs his shoulders. “What do I call you?”
Bianca sits forward, her hands resting on her knees. “Oh, um… I don’t know… I… Let’s see…”
“I call my nana and papa, nana and… oh that’s funny huh, Dad?”
“Dad,” Bianca whispers. She looks at me and smiles. “I think if you called me Grandma Bianca that would be okay.” She nods and her face lights up. “Yes, I think I’d like Grandma Bianca.”
“Okay, that’s cool.”
“Yes, cool,” she says. I start laughing and so does Noah. I don’t think Bianca has ever said the word ‘cool’ before in her life.
“Noah, tell me all about yourself.” With those words I’m effectively cut out of this conversation. She moves over to the couch and sits next him. I remember her like this when I was little before things started changing at my house.
I leave them in the living room to get to know each other. I take out my phone and call Josie. She needs to know about my mom coming over and meeting Noah and I’d rather tell her before Noah lets it slip.
“Hi,” Josie says on the third ring. We’ve started talking every day, but I’ve avoided telling her how I feel. I want her to come to me when she’s ready. I’m not into being someone’s rebound and if she wants me it has to be forever. Right now I’m happy having her in my life without drama.
“You wouldn’t believe who knocked on the door a half hour ago.”
“The delivery man?” She’s been giving me so much crap about the amount of deliveries, but I’ve never had my own furniture before. I may have gone a bit overboard with a few of my purchases, but I plan to own this house forever and it needs to be furnished properly.
I laugh at her. “Bianca.”
Josie only knows how I felt about my parents in high school. I haven’t told her about the ultimatum Sterling issued when I decided to leave school. I wait for Josie to say something. There’s nothing but silence on her end.
“What is it, Jojo?”
“Did she just show up?”
“She was bringing a casserole to the new people. What’s going on?” Her tone is making me curious. She’s usually bubbly when we're talking and right now she seems down.
“Nothing,” she says, clearing her throat. “So you don’t want me to bring dinner tonight?”