“Did Dad tell you why he was looking at houses?”
Noah shrugged. “He said it was a surprise for my birthday. He told me not to tell you so that you’d be surprised, too.”
His birthday was two weeks away.
I made myself smile.
“You’re not in trouble, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“Adults shouldn’t ask you to keep secrets like that from a parent. Even if they call it a surprise.”
He looked relieved, then asked whether his pancake was ready.
I served breakfast and sat across from him, unable to swallow a bite.
Eric came inside 20 minutes later.
“Something smells burned,” he said, smiling.
“I got distracted.”
He reached for his phone on the counter.
“Noah accidentally called someone, or they called while he had the phone. I’m not sure what happened,” I said.
Eric’s hand stopped. “Who?”
“Someone called Rachel.”
