Page 25 of Minor Trouble
“Are you hungry?” I asked. “We could stop for a burger?”
Noah nodded. “Please.” His phone pinged with a message, and he dove into his pocket. His brow furrowed as he typed out a reply. I watched in awe at his thumbs skipping over the screen. I’d never been that quick, and if I was, the message would be littered with mistakes.
“Who’s that?” I tried to keep my tone casual.
The tips of his ears reddened. “No one. Someone from school.”
His response immediately made me suspect it was a girl. But I didn’t want to rib him about it. Thirteen was a tough enough age anyway, let alone for a kid whose life had been turned upside down.
We stopped at Burger King and had some lunch, before heading to Walmart for the paint. It was close to two o’clock by the time we got back to the garage. I unloaded all our purchases, and between us, we got them upstairs to the apartment.
Noah flopped down on the sofa, his hand poised to pick up his gaming handset.
“Uh, no you don’t,” I warned. “I’m not doing this all on my own. Put on your oldest clothes and pick up a paintbrush, we’re doing this now.”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, then thought better of it. “Okay.”
Grateful I hadn’t filled the bedroom with lots of furniture, we were able to push everything into the center of the room and throw one of the dust sheets I’d borrowed from the garage over it. I turned on the radio to a station that I thought I’d heard Noah listening to, and we started work.
“Who’s this?” I asked. I thought it sounded like “Come Out and Play,” but I couldn’t be sure. I preferred rock and indie music, and this didn’t exactly get me going.
Noah rolled his eyes, looking up at me from where he was painting the skirting board. “Come on, you must know Billie Eilish?”
“Nope. Billie Holiday perhaps.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
Suddenly, I felt old, out of touch, no longer one of the kids. Here I was painting a bedroom for my son who was trying to educate me in the music of the day.Iwas the grown up, not the irresponsible one, the one who got into trouble. It was a sobering thought. But as I watched Noah, everything about the change was worthwhile.
It didn’t take too long to paint the small bedroom, in a shade of grey Noah had picked out himself. The lightness certainly did make the room look deceptively bigger than when we’d started.
“You might have to sleep in the middle tonight, I’m not sure the paint will be completely dry by the time you go to bed.”
“That’s fine.” He gave me a shy smile. “Thanks for this.”
I leaned over and ruffled his hair. “No probs. Anything for my son.”
He ducked away from my hand. “Can we get some dinner now? I’m starving.”
“I’d forgotten how much teenagers can eat. I’ve got tacos if that’s okay?”
“Perfect. I’ll help!”
The small gesture of Noah offering to help make dinner rather than me having to cajole him filled me with joy. Today seemed to have been good for us in making small steps towards father and son rather than Seth and Noah. If Ainsley hadn’t suggested Noah moving into the bedroom, we wouldn’t have had it. I had to remember to thank her again.
After dinner, Noah and I sat on the sofa, trying to find a movie that both of us wanted to watch. With all the choices we had, neither of us could seem to agree on anything.
Frustrated, I threw the remote on the sofa. “How did you decide what to watch with your mom?”
Noah pulled at a thread on his shirt. “We didn’t watch many movies together.”
“What sort of things did you do together?” After the day we’d had, I figured it was now or never to have him start talking about Hannah. “Did she come and watch you play football?”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t good enough for the team, so she never came.”
Taken aback by his comment, I persisted. “What about going to the park? That’s something she and I used to do.” Although when Hannah and I had gone to the park, we were a lot older than Noah and had already started fooling about when we thought no one was watching.
