Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game(43)

“I’ve never given them any reason to distrust me. Like I told you earlier, Noah, I’m not like other girls. I don’t sneak out of the house to hook up with random guys, and I don’t go to parties where there are drugs or drinking. I respect my parents and their wishes.”

I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I get you. You’re a good, church going girl who gets her kicks inhaling ice cream sundaes, not Jello shooters!”

Maddie smiled. “Hmm, once again, I sound totally boring.”

I shook my head. “Trust me, Maddie. You’re anything but boring.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “Really?”

“You’re selling yourself short. Trust me, Jake didn’t spend time with boring girls, and neither do I.”

Maddie blushed. “Thanks, Noah. That means a lot to me.”

“Well, you’re welcome. And thanks for tonight—I really appreciate you listening to me and helping me through all of this,” I said.

She smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. I was happy to do it. And I had a good time, too.”

I returned her smile. “So did I.”

She hopped out of the Jeep. I watched her bounce up the walkway to the front door. She waved at me before heading inside. I then eased out of the driveway and made my way home. My palms were sweaty, and my skin felt clammy when I turned onto my street. I felt like an absolute pu**y for having such a physical and emotional reaction.

I clutched the bouquet in my hands as I tentatively stepped through the garage door. The house was quiet except I could hear the television on in the living room. When I got to the doorway, I saw Mom asleep on the couch. A quick glance into the dining room showed the uneaten dishes and empty plates. From the looks of it, she’d canceled on Greg after my bitch fit. That made me feel even worse that she’d deprived herself of having time with the man she loved all because she had an ass**le for a son.

I knelt down beside the couch. “Mom,” I said softly.

She stirred, but her eyes stayed closed.

“Mom, it’s me. Please wake up. I need to…I want to apologize.”

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, and she gazed over at me. There was a guilty look in her eyes that told me she still hated herself for hitting me. It was then replaced by one of relief. She was glad I was home. “Noah,” she said, as she as she pulled herself up on the couch.

She started to say something, but then she saw the flowers in my hand. When she caught my gaze, I smiled. “These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful.”

I drew in a deep breath. It was now or never time. “Mom, I was a real jerk to you earlier. I wish I could take back what I said and did, but I can’t. I want you to know I didn’t mean it, I promise.”

Mom refused to look at me. Instead, she kept her eyes on the flowers.

“And I think it’s great that you’ve met a guy as nice as Greg, and I’m sure you’re going to be very happy.”

Her head jerked up, and she stared incredulously at me. “You do?” Mom questioned.

“Yeah.”

She reached out and touched my cheek. “I’m so sorry I hit you, Noah. I shouldn’t have done that.”

I shook my head. “Yes, you should have. In fact, you should have decked me one. I mean, I said a real shitty thing to you!”

“Language,” she half-heartedly admonished as a smile crept on her lips.

“Okay, it was a really crappy thing to say.”

“That’s better.” She reached over and hugged me. In her arms, I felt safe again like I had earlier with Maddie.

“I love you, Noah,” Mom whispered in my ear.

“I love you, too.”

That night when I got ready to get into bed, my eyes fell on the bookcase across from me. More specifically, they honed on the Sullivan family Bible. I got out of bed and slowly walked over to the bookcase. I pulled the ancient book off the shelf. As soon as I held it in my hands, the smell of age and dust filled my nostrils. I opened it and started thumbing through the pages. Suddenly, it flipped open to the Book of Genesis with the part about Noah, and an envelope fluttered to the floor.

“What the hell?” I murmured. I quickly bent down and scooped up the envelope. Scrawled across the front was my name, and it was in Granddaddy’s handwriting. With trembling fingers, I opened it. The only thing inside was a check for five thousand dollars. On the subject line, it read, “Noah’s Treasure”.

I stood dumbfounded in the middle of my room for a few minutes, just staring at the check dated two years ago. Then I threw open my bedroom door and ran down the hall to Mom’s room. I knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called.

Propped up in bed reading, she stared at me in surprise. “Honey, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I strode over to her bedside and thrust the check into her hand. “I-I just found this in the Sullivan Bible.”

“Uh, huh,” Mom replied.

My mouth hung open. She didn’t seem a bit floored. “Um, hello, it’s a check for five thousand dollars!”

“Yes, I see that, sweetie.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Did you know about this?”

Mom nodded.

I snorted. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”