He thumbed the screen, already offering Wade a listening ear if he should ever want—
Deleted.
Too presumptuous. Let Wade decide when and whether he wanted to share.
Noah: Did you know that penguins propose? With a beautiful rock and everything.
* * *
Wade: You’re having me on.
* * *
Noah: They search through piles of pebbles for the smoothest, prettiest rock. If the other penguin accepts it, they’re on their way to starting their own family.
* * *
Wade: That’s . . . quite something. Your gay penguins too?
* * *
Noah: Yes. And now they have a stone they’re keeping warm like an egg.
* * *
Wade: How sweet and sad.
* * *
Noah: Sweet, mostly. Right now they’re cuddling together and watching the sunset
* * *
Wade: I’m watching the sunset too.
Noah clamped one sweaty palm on the grass and gazed into the purple-flooded skies. Somewhere across town, Wade was sharing this with him. A shiver wound its way from scalp to elbows to the backs of his knees to his soles.
Noah: We’re not supposed to name the penguins. It makes releasing them into the wild easier. But . . .
* * *
Wade: You’ve named your penguin couple?
* * *
Noah: Matthew and Mark.
* * *
Wade: And the stone baby?
* * *
Noah: Luke?
* * *
Wade: Are you aware you’re naming your penguin friends after gospels?
* * *
Noah: That’s why it had such a good ring to it?
* * *
Wade: ??????
Noah chuckled, glanced at his favourite little penguins, and laughed again. God, this feeling racing though his veins.
Noah: How was your day?
* * *
Wade: Worked on the Mustang and spent the afternoon on the phone with Luc.
* * *
Noah: Good friend?
* * *
Wade: When we aren’t arguing ??
* * *
Noah: Sounds like me and my brother.
* * *
Wade: He only wants the best for me. Most of the time he’s right.
* * *
Noah: Sounds less like my brother.
* * *
Wade: ??????
* * *
Noah: Final inspection tomorrow.
* * *
Wade: Yeah. Francesca hasn’t stopped talking about it.
* * *
Noah: I’ll be there an hour earlier, sorting through the last of everything.
* * *
Wade: She roped me into a job interview at the local garage.
* * *
Noah: Ah. Right. Am I wishing you luck, or . . .?
* * *
Wade: Not sure.
Noah swallowed.
God, he despised Francesca.
Noah: I hope you find what you’re looking for.
* * *
Wade: I hope you’re still at home when I get back.
With a perpetual frown, Francesca ticked her way through the five-page list of chattels. She stopped at each item and inspected it for damage, annoyed that nothing was worse for wear.
Her next tick scratched the paper audibly.
Noah stood with his hands at his sides, trying not to ball them into fists or stuff them into his cargo pockets. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to warn her the orange vase had been broken. Every time he opened his mouth, she cut over him. He was to stand there and observe. Speak only when spoken to.
He dreaded her satisfaction when she couldn’t find that vase.
The doorbell rang.
Noah’s belly danced.
Mrs Ferrars caned her way to the front door and Noah slammed his eyes shut at the sound of Zach’s voice. God, he’d hoped to do this without involving him. Poor Zach wouldn’t be able to stand the way Francesca turned her nose up at half their beloved furniture.
She was shaking her head. “Brought your untrained puppy along, I hear. See to it he doesn’t touch anything. I will go over this list again and if I see anything missing, I will file a police report for theft.”
“There won’t be any need for that, Franny.”
“Francesca to you.”
Much as he loathed letting go of his childhood home, he couldn’t wait to escape. That Wade had to suffer her on a daily basis. That anyone Wade fell in love with would have to . . .
Noah’s stomach lurched.
“Noah, there you are.” Zach bounded into the room, almost knocking into a side table of accounted-for china. “Oops. All steady. I couldn’t let you do this alone.” He stopped in front of him, the soft sincerity in his eyes washing away Noah’s worry. “You-you’ve been at my side at every turn since Dad . . . I know this is hard for you, too. So . . .”
Zach sidled next to him and clasped his hand.
Noah squeezed back.
“There’s a chip on the underside of this platter,” Francesca said.
“You can’t see it,” Zach tossed off. “Still works.”
She looked at Noah tightly. “Keep him quiet, too.”
“It’s not your house just yet,” Noah said coolly. “Until the settlement date, you don’t get to make all the rules.”
“I’m rejecting this platter,” she said, setting it roughly aside.
“Francesca, that chip was there when you signed the agreement. Reject it if you want, but there’ll be no adjustment of the total price. And please just reject the entire set.” He’d have a better chance of selling online if the set was complete.
