“God only lets us grow until we’re perfect. Some of us just don’t take as long as others,” Corey replied as he walked into what looked like a study.
Noah’s head spun toward him. “What?”
“You asked what your aunt’s shirt said, right?”
“Oh,” Noah chuckled. “Because she’s short but thinks she’s perfect.”
“You know her well,” Corey said, and he sat down on the leather sofa.
Noah glanced back out the window. Unlike his aunt, Noah was tall and lanky, but he had the same dark hair and complexion.
“You know I’ve been here for an hour,” Corey said.
“I guess.” Noah didn’t turn back.
Corey swallowed. The kid needed to hear this, even if Corey hated saying it. “It took me that long to read her shirt. I was nervous when I first got here, which made it hard for my brain to make sense of the words. A lot of people tried to teach me tricks over the years to help me read better.”
Noah turned, wide-eyed, to Corey, but he kept going.
“When I’m nervous or tired or even stressed about something, the letters jumble. And the more frustrated I get about it, the harder it gets to do it.”
“You have dyslexia?”
Corey nodded.
“I never knew that.”
“Most people don’t. And in some ways, it gets easier. The tricks they teach you, the ways to help you focus on the words, they will help. But I’m not going to pretend that I don’t sometimes stare at words all day and never know what they say.”
“Me too,” Noah admitted. “It’s why I like roping better than reading.”
“Your aunt tells me you’re pretty good at that,” Corey said.
“You’re good at baseball, so who needs to read.”
Corey shook his head. “I do, and so do you. It might be hard, but doing hard things—working for something—that’s what builds character.”
Noah rolled his eyes.
“I don’t text a lot, probably for the same reasons you don’t. But I’d like to give you my phone number so if you ever want to talk, you can call me.” Corey pulled out his phone. He typed in the number Noah gave and sent off the text. “I sent you something.”
“What?” Noah asked.
“Four tickets to tomorrow’s game. Bring whoever you want.” Corey paused before he qualified. “As long as one of the people you want is your aunt.”
“Aunt Teagan’s not that into baseball, but I guess I could ask her.” Noah smirked.
Corey chuckled. “Oh, you got the jokes, huh?”
“I had to teach him something,” Jake said from behind them.
“Sorry, Pops. I know I’m not allowed in here.” Noah stood up from beside Corey.
“Extenuating circumstance. I’ll give you a pass,” Jake said as he moved into the room.
“Want to come with me tomorrow to the Astros game? Your favorite pitcher ever gave me tickets.” Noah said.
Corey’s eyes widened at the remark.