“Hi to you too.”
Marsh fiddled with the burner and hit the ignite button. It made a clicking noise but nothing else. Marsh swore and swiped his hands over his graying high-and-tight haircut. “Damn thing belongs in a scrapyard. Why the hell won’t she buy a new one?”
Noah bristled. “You know why.”
Because that was the grill they’d bought as a Father’s Day gift for his dad. The one his dad never got to use. Noah set the steaks down on the patio table and took over on the grill. He got it started on the first try. “You have to let the gas run for a minute before trying to ignite it.”
“Dinner is saved,” Marsh said dryly.
“Alexis brought enough food to feed the Airborne, so we could’ve eaten that and been fine.”
The sky-high arch of Marsh’s eyebrow meant he’d said too much. Marsh was always giving him shit about his relationship with Alexis.
Noah stabbed a raw slab of meat and threw it on the grill. Marsh swatted his hand away. “Not yet, dumbass. You have to let it get hot first. Haven’t you ever grilled a damn steak before?”
Noah rolled his eyes and stepped back.
“Grab us a couple of beers,” Marsh said, nodding with his chin to a cooler by the back door.
Noah grabbed two, twisted off the caps, and handed one to Marsh.
Marsh took a long drink and then belched. “You sleeping with her yet?”
Noah coughed and wiped the spittle of beer from his lips. “What the fuck, Marsh?”
Marsh chuckled and took another drink. “That’s a no.”
“My relationship with Alexis is none of your fucking business.”
“Hey,” Marsh snapped, pointing his beer like a weapon. “Watch your mouth.”
“Alexis and I are friends.”
Marsh threw a steak on the grill. “No such thing as friends between men and women.”
“If you’re trying out for Misogynist of the Year, you just won.”
Marsh tossed another steak onto the grill. “It’s biology. Men want to sleep with women, not hang out and talk with them.”
“Really? Does my mother know you feel that way?”
Marsh’s face hardened. “Watch it.”
“You get to give me shit but I can’t reciprocate?”
“My friendship with your mother is a helluva lot more complicated, and you know it.”
Yeah. Complicated as in neither one of them would date other people but had never dated each other because it was the ultimate betrayal of his father, and so no one was happy.
Marsh took another long drink.
“I signed a new client a couple of days ago,” Noah said.
“Anyone famous?”
Marsh was always hung up on the fact that Noah worked with celebrities. “Probably no one you know. He’s a young country singer.”
“Good money?”
“Enough.”
“You meet with that financial planner yet?”
Noah winced. This was a regular fight with Marsh. He couldn’t make the old man understand that Noah had no interest in meeting with his financial planner. Noah preferred his own investments, the kind that weren’t tied to propping up the fossil fuel industry. Noah had tried to explain it once, that there was a growing industry of socially conscious investing, but Marsh had scoffed, called it leftist bullshit, and told him he was throwing his money away.
“I’ve made some progress,” Noah said simply, keeping the details to himself. A petulant part of him wanted to ram his most recent earnings report down Marsh’s throat. Or maybe the paid in full note on his mother’s house. Or the zero balance on Zoe’s tuition bills. She would earn her Ph.D. next spring without a penny of debt.
That was enough for Noah. He didn’t need Marsh’s approval as long as he had theirs.
And Alexis’s.
Through the glass door, he could see her and his mom laughing over a scrapbook on the counter. Probably pictures of him from when he was a kid. From before his father died. There weren’t a lot of pictures taken afterward.
Noah finished his beer. “I’m going to see if they need any help inside.”
At the sound of the door against the metal track, they turned and stared. Zoe and his mom wore matching expressions of shock.
“She just told us about the kidney transplant,” his mom said.
* * *
“So, how does that even work?” Zoe asked fifteen minutes later at the dining table. She swallowed half a mushroom. “The transplant, I mean.”
Alexis, who sat to Noah’s right, sipped her wine. “I’m still learning about it, but it looks like I would have to go through two rounds of testing to make sure I’m compatible. And if I am, then I’d have to go through a bunch of other tests before the surgery can be scheduled.”
“How long does that take?” his mom asked.
“Normally, about six months, but we don’t have that much time. Elliott probably needs the transplant by Christmas.”
“Oh my gosh,” his mom said. “That soon?”
“He had two other donors fall through.”
“So if you’re not a match . . . ,” Zoe said, letting the unfinished part dangle like the fork in her hand.
Alexis glanced at Noah before answering. “I don’t know.”
The way she said it made Noah’s heart ache, because Alexis did know. It was quite possible Elliott would die, and dammit, Noah hated that she had that kind of pressure on her shoulders. He knew her well enough to know that if she wasn’t a match, she’d consider it a personal failing. Noah wanted to rest his hand on her neck, give it a reassuring squeeze, but Marsh was already watching them.
“This must be such a shock for you,” his mom said. “And after everything else you’ve gone through the past few years.”
Marsh made an indecipherable noise. Noah sent him a warning glare, which Marsh returned as he sawed off a chunk of meat.
“So what are you going to do?” Zoe asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said.
Zoe snorted. “You’re a way better person than I
