Chapter Thirteen Like Father, Not Like Son #3
“Hey. Sorry to bug you at home; just checking if you’re okay. I tried calling you, and you didn’t answer.”
He frowns. “Um, yeah, my phone’s at the bottom of the river.
” He chuckles awkwardly, then steps outside onto his porch with me, closing the screen door behind him.
He’s not wearing shoes or socks, but he’s in the same oversized clothes he wears to CROP.
I don’t know why, but he seems younger standing barefoot on his porch.
There’s a dark patch on his cheek—like a bruise.
“Was a rough night,” he says. “I decided to sleep in.”
“What happened to your face?” I ask. His hand goes to the bruise. “Something with your brother? I heard… gossip.”
He exhales, then runs his hand through his hair.
“Yeah. I got a call from a buddy of his that he was wasted in the pit. That’s this spot on the river where people go to drink.
I went to bring him home. He was… It wasn’t good.
He wouldn’t come with me, and then he hit me and threw my phone into the middle of the river. Someone called 911.”
“Was he arrested?”
Noah shakes his head, frowning. “No. They took him to the hospital to detox. But I assume he’ll be arrested for public intoxication once he gets out. Again.”
“Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.” I feel terrible.
Noah looks upset, but also kind of resigned.
Like this is his fate and nothing can change that.
And my heart breaks a little. Standing here on his porch, I remember that Noah’s just a kid.
Only a few months older than me. He shouldn’t be dealing with this stuff. “Is there anything I can do?” I ask.
He pauses and just looks at me for a beat, like he’s never been asked that question before. “Can we take a walk or something? I need to get out of here.”
“Yes, absolutely.”
He smiles. “Hey, my dad’s home. Do you want to meet him first?”
I squeeze my lips together. He wants me to meet his father? Why? “Does your dad know that we’re—”
“Fake dating?” Noah chuckles. “I told him you wanted to piss off Jason LeClair by bringing a bad boy to his party. The eyeliner was Dad’s idea.” He opens the door, then motions me inside. “C’mon. He’ll like you.”
I shrug and follow him into the house, kicking off my shoes in the entryway.
I don’t know what I was expecting the inside of Noah’s house to look like, but this isn’t it.
It isn’t pristinely clean or anything, but also not too messy.
There’s a pot on the stove, and the house smells like a really good spaghetti sauce. It feels homey and real.
A man is sitting at the dining table in front of a laptop computer. Noah’s dad, I assume. He raises his head when he sees me, and then stands to welcome me.
Noah looks nothing like his father. Mike Jacobs has light reddish hair, wide shoulders, a square jaw, and some extra weight around his midsection. Even his eyes are different—light blue instead of Noah’s dark eyes.
“Hey, Dad, this is Meera. We’re going to go for a walk,” Noah says.
Noah’s dad smiles at me, and I finally see some family resemblance. It’s the same smile as Noah’s. “Jason’s new kid.” He puts his hand out, and I shake it.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs. I hope—”
“Please, I’m Mike.” He glances at Noah a second. “I suppose you heard about the commotion last night? My older son, Aaron, needs help. I’m researching treatment centers for him now.”
I’m surprised at how open Noah’s dad is. I nod sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I hope your son… I mean, I hope he’ll be okay.”
“He will. He’s got a tough road ahead of him, though.
Not many options locally.” He sighs. “Sometimes it feels like this town doesn’t want to help the people who live here.
So many programs cut…” He sits back in front of his computer.
“You can bust your ass and try to make a better life for you and your kids, but what’s the point if the kids can’t get into anything but trouble in this place?
” He huffs a laugh. “And now Jason LeClair is running for mayor. No offense, but I can’t think of anyone more out of touch than him.
Yeah, Peter McCrae is getting on in years, but he gets it.
He was one of the original union organizers at the plant, you know?
And I don’t mind if you tell Jason I said that.
I got bad blood with your stepfather, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t vote for the man.
How can a LeClair understand what’s best for this town? ”
“Dad,” Noah says. “I think…”
Mike glances at Noah, chuckling. “My son is not-so-subtly reminding me that I’m talking about my boss, and to my boss’s family.
That’s my boy, always looking out for me.
He’s the glue that holds me together.” He throws an arm around Noah’s shoulder, bringing him in for a half hug.
“You wait. Noah’s going to be promoted above me in the plant less than a year after he starts.
Great to meet you, Meera. Noah says you’re a real one, and I think he’s the best judge of people around. ”