Chapter 7
Julia
“Going for ice cream again?”
My co-worker’s question stopped me on the way to the stairs. She eyed me over her black frames, her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy updo.
Gina was observant. Too observant.
“It’s so good, you know?”
I was doing too much. I knew it. There was no need for me to spend so much time on this case, and I didn’t need to see them yet again.
Marcus could provide updates over the phone, but I couldn’t help myself.
Nor could I stop the familiar tingle in my chest each time they arrived.
Little Noah and his Uncle Marcus had captured my. .. not heart. My attention.
“Want me to bring you back an ice cream?” I asked, knowing full well she was severely lactose intolerant.
“I can’t, but thanks for asking.”
“Sure.”
I carefully descended the stairs, today wearing heels and a figure-hugging taupe dress that clung to my derriere enough to show it off without being improper.
I had no business dressing like this, but a part of me wanted Marcus to notice.
I was fairly certain he was already interested, but I couldn’t be sure.
I shouldn’t care. Any man with Romeo on his license plate should be kept at a distance, but it wasn’t my fault I was developing a crush.
Did he need to come for ice cream every day this week?
Probably not. But I was glad he did, and I suspected he didn’t mind Noah’s addiction to the dessert, either.
I was out the door and standing in front of the building approximately thirty seconds before Marcus pulled up and parked nearby, the way he had done each day. Excitement tightened in my chest at the sight of his blue Rav-4.
“Calm down,” I muttered to myself.
He opened the driver’s side door, and I expected to see his usual jacket and dress shirt.
Instead, my mouth fell open as I watched him go to the back door.
Moments later, an energized Noah jumped onto the sidewalk and raced toward me in his red tunic, yellow cape, and yellow utility belt, his eyes bright with joy behind the mask.
“Look, Miss Julia!”
Coming behind him with a slow but confident walk was Marcus Hayes—in a full Batman costume.
I pressed my fist to my mouth, trying hard not to laugh.
He had the body to carry it off—broad shoulders, long legs, and muscular thighs.
But the black cape, the purple bodysuit, the mask, and the bat symbol on his chest were a lot for a Friday afternoon ice cream run.
He looked ridiculous yet completely adorable.
I rested my hands on my hips. “Well... Gotham’s finest has made an appearance.”
Noah looked at his godfather and then looked at me. “Uncle Marcus is Batman. We’re a team!” he exclaimed.
“I see. This is quite an interesting look for you,” I told Marcus.
He shrugged, the left corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a slightly embarrassed smile. “Robin said he needed my help, so I couldn’t leave him out here fighting crime all by himself. I had to have my man’s back.”
Now I understood. Noah had asked him to wear the costume, and he had obliged. The fact that he’d done so at the boy’s request was very endearing.
“Very noble of you, Batman.”
“All in a day’s work,” he said, adjusting his cape with exaggerated flair.
I burst out laughing then. “Tell me you wore this all day.”
“All damn day. From the time I dropped him off until now.”
“All damn day!” Noah exclaimed.
“No, you don’t say damn. That’s a grown-up word, okay?” Marcus said.
“Okay,” Noah said, sounding defeated, as if not being able to say a curse word was the worst thing ever.
“Ready for some ice cream?” Marcus asked.
“I sure am.” I led the way across the street to the park, and we made our regular trek to the ice cream truck. Each day this week, Noah had tried a different flavor. So far his favorite was Rocky Road.
When we arrived at the truck, the vendor smiled at us. I wasn’t surprised she was happy considering all the money Marcus had spent on ice cream and coffee this week.
“Hey, it’s my favorite superhero, and you brought Batman today,” she said.
“We’re a team!” Noah announced again.
The vendor grinned. “What will it be today, Robin?” she asked.
“Um, I don’t know. Can I have two scoops this time?” Eyes hopeful, Noah lifted his gaze to Marcus.
“You think you can eat two?”
“I know I can,” the little boy said with confidence.
“All right, let’s see what you got. You can have two scoops.”
Noah put in his request for strawberry and cotton candy so quickly, it was clear he had been plotting to do this.
Marcus had his usual cup of coffee, but I skipped the ice cream. I realized last night I was setting myself up by eating ice cream every day, as if I were a seven-year-old boy instead of a thirty-three-year-old woman whose metabolism was not what it used to be.
We headed back across the park like we usually did, with Noah leading the way, and Marcus and I strolling behind him.
Since Marcus and I were spending so much time together, I had done a Google search on him and learned he was one of the top-selling real estate agents in Houston.
He had a listing coordinator and two buyer assistants, which enabled him to devote time to Noah’s care early on.
While his godson sat down on a bench to finish his ice cream, Marcus and I remained standing in the grass nearby.
“How’s he doing?” I asked.
“Incredibly well, except for wearing the costume. He still refuses to wear regular clothes.”
“It was really sweet of you to put on the Batman costume for him.”
Marcus took a sip of his coffee. “When he asked me, I couldn’t say no. It’s something his dad would’ve done. Brandon wore the costume when he took Noah trick-or-treating last year, and I guess he’s been holding onto that memory.”
“That could explain why he’s been so attached to the Robin costume in the first place. It’s a core memory.”
“Exactly.”
“Have his eating habits improved?”
“They have. He’s finishing meals now. His appetite is back, and of course, you’ve been good for him.” He shot a look at me from the corner of his eye.
“Me?” He had genuinely surprised me with the compliment.
“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re the reason we’re here. I bought ice cream for him at the store, and he wouldn’t eat it, but for some reason, he loves the ice cream from this truck.”
“That has nothing to do with me. They make a good product. But back to your comment about me, all I do is eat ice cream with you.”
“Nah, you do more than that.” His voice became serious.
“You consistently talk to him in an engaging way, and it’s worked to pull him out of his depression.
The first time he smiled was because of an interaction with you.
His therapist is impressed by his progress, by the way.
At his appointment on Thursday, she asked me what I was doing.
When I told her I’d been taking him for ice cream, she laughed at first but sobered when she realized I was serious.
‘Keep doing what you’re doing,’ she told me. ”
Warmth filled my chest. “He’s a great kid, and if I helped in some small way, I’m happy.”
We were silent for a moment as he drank more coffee. “His aunt called again.”
Because of our daily meetups, we had developed a deeper bond, prompting him to confide in me on Wednesday about the problem he was experiencing with Noah’s paternal aunt.
She wanted the boy to move to Tennessee right away, but Marcus believed it was better for him to finish the school year in Houston.
Which made sense. No point in uprooting him unnecessarily and causing more disruption in his life. Besides, schools closed in about a month, so her continued insistence on having Noah move to Tennessee immediately seemed odd.
“What did she want?” I asked.
“Same shit, different day,” Marcus grumbled. “I told her once and for all to accept that he’s not coming to Tennessee before the end of the school year, and I think she finally got it. Then she started talking about after school closed, which I’m more open to.”
“So you’re going to let him go?”
“Probably,” he replied, kicking a pebble onto the pavement. He didn’t sound certain to me.
“I figured you might miss your little sidekick,” I said carefully.
“Yeah, I’m going to miss the little guy,” Marcus said, his voice sounding rougher than before. His gaze fell to Noah, who was almost finished with his ice cream.
“There’s no rule that says you have to turn him over to family. Brandon and Stacey chose you to be his guardian.”
“Legally, yeah, but I feel selfish for keeping him here, especially when he has family in another state. I mean, bottom line, she’s right, isn’t she? He’s doing better now, but how much more would he thrive if he were in a stable home with other kids?”
“You underestimate what you mean to him,” I said in a quiet voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Marcus, I see the way he looks at you, the way he sometimes reaches for your hand. He feels safe with you. Frankly, there’s a reason your friend and his wife designated you as the guardian of their child.
You should think about that. In my line of work, I can tell you, parents do not make such an important decision lightly. ”
He remained silent and took another sip of coffee before he spoke again.
“I’ve thought about why they chose me, and I don’t fully understand it, because I don’t think my actions while they were alive suggested I was the best person to take care of a kid.
But I have been thinking about Zenobia, his aunt.
Something about her constant demand to take in Noah doesn’t sit right with me.
She seems almost... desperate to have him. ”
“I think we’re both having the same thought.”
“The insurance money,” we said at the same time.