Noah
My mother is packing down stuff for her honeymoon with Elias, whom she married less than twenty-four hours ago. He doesn't seem like a terrible person, and he raised Natalie, so there must be some good in him.
"Don't stay up too late while I'm gone, and no snacks for dinner. I'm serious, Noah. Eat proper food. Have Frank cook you five meals a day—he is an excellent chef. You're a professional football player and need protein."
I roll my eyes. "Mother… I'm not a kid anymore. Do I have to remind you that you're the one living in my house?"
My mother looks up at me while packing her suitcase. Her bottom lip is quivering, a sign of her about to waver. "I know—you're all grown up, and it makes me sad! You've always been my little boy, and now you're even taller than your dad!"
Great,
