Chapter 24
Noah
I'm just about finished taping the master bedroom and bathroom when I hear a knock on the front door. This is ridiculous because the only person who knows I'm here is my mom. And the house sits too far back from the road for anyone to see the car and Mom wouldn’t knock, she would just walk in. Instead of going to investigate, I choose to ignore the noise and start opening up the can of paint I bought on the way here. I’ve decided that I’m painting the walls a light blue-gray color, but first I have to prime the obnoxiously red walls.
Once the walls are primed, I can take my time doing the rest of the work.
I open the primer but before I can start to pour it, I hear the knock again.
Okay, someone is here and I need to go see who it is and figure out why they are here.
The master bedroom is the furthest room from the front door, overlooking the back of the property, but as you walk down the hallway toward the secondary hallway leading to the front door, you can see out the big window in the kitchen.
The old Bennett family car is in my driveway.
Even more confused, I open the front door and feel the change in my facial expression.
I'm utterly baffled to see Ollie standing on the front porch of my new house. She looks up at me with a small smile and is rocking back and forth, almost jittery like she’s either freezing or extremely nervous to be here.
“Hi,” she almost whispers with a small wave in front of her body.
“Ollie, hi, what are you doing here?” I finally get out of my shock and move into pure excitement and happiness.
“I needed to see you again before leaving,” she replies, cheeks reddening with what appears to be embarrassment. “I know I said I had to get back to the city but I just really needed to see you. I went to your mom’s house and she told me you were here.”
I have no words. I'm in pure shock.
“Okay,” I finally respond. “Come in,” I say, opening the door into my house. I’m instantly aware of how dusty and old this house is.
There’s an awkward silence that fills the air as we stand in the hallway between the empty family room and the empty dining room.
“You bought the Kinney property,” she finally says.
“Yeah,” I reply. “I didn’t spend any money while in the Army, and after two weeks with Mom and Bec, I don’t know how much longer I can survive.”
“Fair. I couldn’t ever live with my family again, but why a house that needs so much work?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious.
Ollie requires honesty, especially if I want to keep her in my life but I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about everything that happened overseas, or Jarred, especially with Ollie.
“I have a lot of free time, with only three shifts a week at the firehouse. Unless we get a call, and you know how often that happens,” I start “I can’t just sit around with my thoughts and feelings. So I bought a house that I can devote my time to making it mine,” I finish.
Perfect. A half-truth.
“Oh,” Ollie replies, sounding concerned.
“Ya know, sometimes, thoughts and feelings are important to recognize and accept in order to heal,” she says.
Leave it to Ollie, to not directly ask what happened, but know that it’s something significant and still have a statement that my therapist has said to me at least once a week since we started our sessions.
I know at this moment that I need to tell Ollie why I retired, what happened, and why I need the distraction.
This beautiful woman has only been back in my life for less than a week and she has shown her selflessness has never changed.
She has the biggest heart of anyone I know and always wants to ensure the safety and care of those around her.
“Let’s take a tour of the house,” I say softly, grabbing her hand to lead her through the house.
She smiles softly and follows as I show her all the empty rooms and tell her about all of the changes and renovations I'm preparing to do. We finally make our way into the master bedroom where there is a big duffel bag with clothes, towels, and the contents of my desk. There’s plastic lining the floor in front of two of the wall with the tin of paint and roller sitting right at the edge of the plastic.
“This is the master bedroom, I'm painting it a light gray because I want to keep it light with the big natural light from the back,” I say as I realize I'm still holding her hand, I turn to face her and we are standing in the middle of the room, closer to the backside.
I let go of Ollie’s hand as she walks closer to the windows, eyes wide, a smile building on her face.
“I love it,” she says. “All of it, it's going to be perfect, Noah. Even with all the work you have to put in.” I feel my shoulders sink again as I look down to my feet getting ready to share what feels like one of my biggest secrets with Olivia.
“What?” She notices the change in my demeanor. “Noah, what is it?” she asks again with more nervousness than before.
My hands start to shake slightly and I clasp them together to keep her from noticing.
This is silly, this shouldn’t be that hard to tell her.
I love Jarred, loved him with every ounce of my being, and she is going through something similar.
So why does it feel like the air is being pulled out of my lungs?
“I am trying to find the words,” I mumble, willing the shaking to stop and my heart to slow down.
“I know it has been a while but you can tell me anything,” she says taking my hands in hers.
“Yeah, thanks,” I barely get it out, trying to find the best way to tell her that I’ve been rebuilding my entire life for the last six months. That I watched my best friend die, in front of me while saving me and the rest of our unit. How do I ease into that?
“Just tell me Noah, it’s not like you are married or something, is it?” she responds, with an obvious hint of frustration. “You’re not married are you?” she asks urgently.
“What? No! Ollie, of course I’m not married.” I pull my hands out of her grip and create some space between us. Space that I hope will get air into my collapsing airway, and light from the bright windows pushes the darkness associated with the memory away.
She doesn’t say anything, she simply just stares at me, eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and confusion, emotions pulsing through her like a current.
I take a deep breath and hang my head low, still fighting for my bearings, knowing that Dr. Doyle would be happy to know that I finally was able to tell someone outside of my immediate family.
“Ollie, my best friend was killed. We were ambushed and a lot of people were lost that day,” I struggle to blurt out.
“Oh, Noah…” Ollie starts as she takes a step closer to me, bringing her hands onto my forearms.
“After that day, I went into a very dark place. There was a lot of alcohol and I was a shell of a human until I started to see Dr. Doyle. It took four months to dig out of that hole. That’s why I need this house.
I need this as a coping mechanism when things are hard,” I say, knowing that if I don’t say it right away, I won’t.
And this is also part of Dr. Doyle’s recovery plan, getting to a point where I can talk about Jarred.
Jarred, the 6 foot 4 giant teddy bear of a man that I got to call my best friend.
He was the friend who was always laughing, joking, trying to make everyone around him have a good time, even when he wasn’t.
His hazel eyes and cooked smile never quite fit the intensity of his physique.
He was built like a tight end with tattoos coating his left arm and entire back.
But what really stood out about Jarred was his personality, his kind heart, taking a chance on everyone around him even though no one took a chance on him.
“Hey, what are you thinking about right now? Where did you go there?” I hear Ollie’s voice and feel the touch of her hands on my forearms, bringing me out of the memories of my best friend.
“Sorry, I was thinking about Jarred, even just thinking about him here makes my heart hurt. I feel an indescribable pain in my chest, where I feel like all of my insides are falling out of me, and there isn’t a bandage, or tourniquet that could keep them in.
It wasn’t until Jarred, that I realized you can have soul friends.
The friends who are your soulmates, except just friends.
The friends that you don’t have to talk to all day everyday, but they get you and just being with them is enough.
They can read you like a book even when you don’t want them to and push you to do the hard things.
The things you would never choose to do yourself.
Jarred is that for me. Was. Was that for me.
” I stumble over the last sentence, still struggling to process that he is gone.
“I'm sorry, Noah. I know that doesn’t change anything, but I'm sorry,” she says, pulling me into an embrace. Ollie is small, but mighty, and while my head stands square over her I lower my forehead to the top of hers and soak in this moment. I’m so caught up in the moment that I don’t realize we’ve moved onto the plastic near the tin of paint.
“But you got this house and have incredible plans for it, and painting while sad is not nearly as fun or effective,” Ollie says with a smirk on her face as she pulls away from our hug and in one swift motion dips her hand in the tin of paint and wipes it across the side of my face and cheek.
Shocked by a smile, and the newly white paint smeared across the side of my face, I can’t decide whether or not to be annoyed or laugh.
“I hope you don’t like what you’re wearing.” I grin and laugh as I look at her black leggings and white cropped sweatshirt that are now speckled with white paint.
Ollie gasps and laughs all at once before dipping her hand in the paint and placing it squarely on my chest. Instinctively, I place my hand around her waist and pull her into my chest. Olivia squeaks with surprise and takes her opposite hand to wrap around my neck as we spin in a circle.
“There is the laugh that I love so much,” I say, smiling. Her laugh is loud and deep but entirely infectious. She can bring anyone out of a bad mood, even if just for a moment with her laugh.
“There is the person who brings it out me,” she replies as we come to a stop she looks up and leans in so that her lips meet mine, and I know I'm a goner.