To Build a Home

17 | First Date

Noah and I were in the front yard when I noticed Darren's truck parked in his driveway down the street. It had been two days since we last saw him. I was weeding the garden under the living room window, perched in the dirt on my knees. There were daffodils, daylilies, and wintergreen boxwood shrubs. I hadn't lost my green thumb during my years in the city. Noah used his hand-held shovel to transfer dirt from one part of the garden to another. I sat up to wipe my sweaty face when I turned to see the blue truck.

"Uncle Darren's home, No," I said.

"Ren!" he replied, tossing the dirt over his shoulder.

"Should we go say hi?"

"Hi, hi, hi, hi." He bounced up and down and then fell backward.

Noah and I had spent every minute together since Charlie left. We made breakfast and read stories, watched cartoons and played on the tire swing in the backyard. We even had new nicknames for each other. I called him No and he called me You or Hey. His was based on the first syllable of his name while mine was what he said before issuing a command. "Hey, ba-na-na!" or "You don't do that," whenever I would turn off the tablet.

I didn't even realize I hadn't heard from Darren since the ominous I won't be at the house tonight text the night I had packed up the master bedroom. I was so consumed with cleaning and packing, not to mention taking care of Noah full-time since I had told Anna that she could take a break, I didn't feel his absence.

Noah and I walked the four houses down to Darren's hand in hand on the sidewalk. Although it had felt like we were living together those first few days after I had arrived, it dawned on me that he had this whole secret life that was separate from us. I approached the door and thought about the kiss, the scene of the crime, and wondered if his absence had anything to do with it. It was finally ok to be kissing and Darren was nowhere in sight.

I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I tried again and waited a few minutes. Noah knocked on the bottom of the door. Of course, Darren didn't have a doorbell. When there wasn't an answer after the third knock, I looked down at Noah covered in dirt. "Should we just go in?" I asked.

Noah smiled up at me. I called Darren's name as soon as I opened the door. The layout was exactly the same as Phil's house. It opened into a large foyer with stairs to the second floor. The living room was to the right of a long hallway that led to the kitchen behind it. You could tell a bachelor lived there––nothing was finished and everything served a function. There were no tchotchkes or decorative rugs or plants. Just a worn brown sofa and a poorly-constructed end table. There was a light on in the kitchen, so I followed it. "Hello?" Noah ran past me.

"Noah?" I heard from beyond the corner.

When I made it into the kitchen, Noah was already in Darren's arms. There were stacks of manilla folders on the kitchen counter and a computer with an open spreadsheet. It also looked like there were hundreds of receipts on every surface, including the floor.

"What are you guys doing here?" Darren asked. I couldn't tell if he was surprised or annoyed. His beard was longer than usual and his hair, which usually laid like waves, was flat.

"We haven't seen you in a while. And then I saw your truck."

"Sorry, I meant to say something."

"Work?" I pointed at his makeshift office.

"I never realized how much we split the business until now." He set Noah down on top of a stack of folders.

"You should take a break. Have you eaten?"

He looked around the room as if trying to remember. I could see dishes in the sink and Chinese takeout containers in the trash.

"I can make some pizza. Come over in an hour."