Noah by Elizabeth Reyes Page B

Veronica shrugged and dropped her fork. “You can if you want to. God and I haven’t exactly been on speaking terms for a while.”
    Ah . With that in mind Noah kept i t short and to the point then they dug in. Noah glanced up at her after a few minutes of silent ravishing. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was starving and he hadn’t realized what an appetite he’d worked up with such a busy morning.
    “So your mom was really the only family you eve r had?”
    She nodded and thankfully, she didn’t seem uncomfortable with the subject. “My mom mentioned having a much older sister who she never really knew. My grandparents were older when they had my mom. She was an unexpected but pleasant surprise.” She buttered a roll as she spoke seemingly okay with sharing this part of her life with him. She told him all about the much older sister her mom had that ran off when she was eighteen and never returned so while she knew she had an aunt somewhere she’d never met her.
    “What about your dad?” Judging by her sudden change in expression, this obviously wasn’t quite as easy a question as his first. Worried that this might change her mood he added, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
    “No. It’s no biggie. I never met him. My mom fell in love with an acquaintance of the family who came from Mexico to visit for weeks at a time. He made her all kinds of promises, especially after they became intimate and when he’d go back to Mexico they’d writ e each other constantly . W hen she wrote him to tell her she was pregnant he never wrote back.” Her expression hardened. “She later found out he’d bee n married the whole time. His visits over here were to make money to send back to his wife and kids . She was devastated but my aging grandparents helped raise me though I was really young when they passed and from then on it was just me and her.”
    She dipped her roll in her potatoes and took a bite.
    Feeling bad that he’d dr e dged up such a sore subject Noah felt compelled to say something and then hopefully change the subject. “Well, I’m sorry about your dad but at least your grandparents stuck by your mom. I know the older generation tend s to be very stern about those kinds of things.”
    Her smile made him feel better. “No. My grandparents were wonderful.” She glanced around. “This was their house. They left it to me and my mom.” Her eyes met him and were suddenly full of compassion. “And don’t be sorry. At least I had my mom. Were you really in foster care your whole life?”
    Noah wanted a change of subject but this certainly wasn’t the direction he had in mind. He continued to eat t rying to play it off as it was no big deal. “ I honestly don’t  know anything about my dad and I barely remember my mom. All I know is we lived in a house here in  Los Angeles . We shared it with several other families. I’d go to school , come home , go into our room and wait for her to get home from work.” He took a hard drink of his coffee surprised that talking about it still made him sad. “One day when I was six she never came home. The other women in the house looked after me saying the migra had taken her from the factory she work ed at and sent her back to Mexico , but she’d be back for me. Then weeks later, we got notice that she’d been killed when the truck she and about thirty other immigrants were being smuggled in crashed just before crossing the border. So I was placed in foster care and was told it was only until one of my mother ’ s family members came to get me.” He moved his food around on his plate. It’d been years since he told this story to anyone and he was surprised now that h e was telling her this. The only other person he’d ever shared this with was Gio. He glanced up at him and she was staring , her eyes full of compassion. “No one ever came. End of story.”
    She nodded as if she understood and wouldn’t ask anything else.