He already knew what that meant.
She wanted to come.
She simply couldn't promise.
Two nights later, she confirmed it.
“I asked, baby.”
Noah sat at the kitchen table while she removed her work shoes.
“They already have two people out that day.”
“It’s okay.”
“I could maybe come for lunch.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m going to keep asking.”
“Mom.”
She looked at him.
“It’s fine.”
He smiled because he had become good at that.
She crossed the kitchen and hugged him.
“I’m sorry.”
Noah hated hearing her apologize.
She had nothing to apologize for.
His father was the one who should have apologized.
But his father had been dead for three years.
A highway accident.
Rain.
A truck crossing a center line.
Words Noah remembered adults whispering around him at the funeral.
After that, there had only been Mom.
Mom doing everything.
Mom arriving home exhausted.
Mom pretending overdue bills were normal.
Mom eating toast for dinner and claiming she had already eaten at work.
Noah knew she would have gone to Family Day if she could.
That did not make walking into school alone easier.
Especially because of Tyler Reed.
Tyler had started bothering him about Family Day almost immediately.
“Who’s coming for you?”
“My mom.”
“You said that last year.”
“So?”
“She didn't come last year.”
“She was working.”
Tyler smiled.
“What about your dad?”
Noah ignored him.
Everybody knew.
Tyler knew too.
That was why he asked.
The next day:
“Maybe your dad can come as a ghost.”
Noah punched him.
Not hard.
Still enough to earn two afternoons of detention.
The principal told Noah he understood the situation but fighting was unacceptable.
His mother had cried in the car afterward.
Not because she was angry.
Because she thought she had failed him somehow.
Noah never wanted that again.
So he made a plan.
He only needed somebody.
One adult.
For one hour.
Maybe longer if seven dollars was enough.
Someone nobody at school would question.
Someone who looked important.
Or at least interesting.
He first thought about hiring a college student.
Then the mailman.
Then a man who worked at the grocery store.
But all of those ideas felt stupid.
Then, walking home Tuesday afternoon, Noah saw a group of bikers at the diner.
Twenty motorcycles.
Men in leather.
Everyone watching them.
That was when the idea came.
A biker.
If a biker came to Family Day, Tyler would definitely stop asking questions.
Noah had spent three days collecting every dollar he had.
Now he stood ten feet from their table and wondered if this might be the dumbest thing he had ever done.
The scar-faced biker noticed him first.
He was the largest man at the table.
Broad shoulders.
Thick gray-and-brown beard.
Plain black shirt beneath an old leather vest.
A white coffee mug rested between his hands.
He stopped talking.
The others followed his gaze.
One by one, all five men looked at Noah.
Noah froze.
The largest biker tilted his head.
“You lost, kid?”
His voice was deeper than Noah expected.
Noah shook his head.
“No, sir.”
The biker beside him smiled.
“Then you must be here for him.”
He pointed toward the largest man.
“He owes everybody money.”
The others laughed.
The big biker gave him an annoyed look.
Noah didn't laugh.
That made them quiet again.
The large biker turned toward him.
“You need something?”
Noah nodded.
His mouth had gone dry.
He pulled his hand from his hoodie pocket.
Seven crumpled bills came with it.