31. Nolan
Chapter 31
Nolan
I hate Christmas lights. They are from the pits of hell and only created to make miserable fuckers like me waste hours outside untangling them before we spend even more hanging them. I should’ve just left them up this summer, but my stupid ass had to put my nose into business that wasn’t mine. So here I am, standing in front of public enemy number one’s home, putting them back up because my baby girl reminded me I promised I would.
“Whoever invented these damn things needs to spend eternity untangling them,” I grumble as I toss a huge, tangled ball of them onto the ground. “Fuck this.”
But then I look up and see Mollie sitting in my driveway with her chalk and know I can’t disappoint her. So, I stomp across the street while I pull my keys from my pocket. “Hop in. We’re going to the store to buy new lights. Those are a mess and a fire hazard.”
My baby girl climbs in through my door and over the console to the back where her booster is. “Can we buy the big snowman blow up thing?”
“We’ll see.”
An hour and twenty minutes later, I’m backing my truck into Bethany’s driveway so I can unload the crap my daughter talked me into. Call me a grumpy sucker, because that is exactly what I am.
“I need to pee!” Mollie jumps out and runs to the front door, ringing the doorbell before I can stop her.
“Mollie, don’t bug them.” I don’t know why I bother using my words because none of the women in my life listen.
Not my sister. Not Kellie or Mollie. And not the woman I’ve been trying to get over.
“It’s not a bother. Miss Beth won’t mind.”
Despite my intention not to, I can’t help but look up as the front door opens—it seems I have a strange fondness for torturing myself. Damn, she looks good, and I have to reach down and adjust my dick. Every fucking time I see her, the traitor thinks it’s a good idea to demand all the blood in my body be redirected to him. And the asshole refuses to find release anywhere but inside her. Which is a damn shame because she cut us both off when she ripped out my heart and left me bleeding out in my own home.
Having suffered enough, I get back to unloading the bed of my truck. Her voice trails off as the door closes, and I breathe a little easier now. Which is why I nearly jump out of my skin when I turn, holding the big snowman box in my arms, to find her standing right there.
“What are you doing?” she asks as she looks around.
I’m not in the mood, which is why I respond sarcastically. “Baking a cake.”
She doesn’t even miss a beat and, god, it stings. “You should go bake that cake in your yard, not mine.”
Dropping the box on her lawn, I turn to pick up another. “Mollie insisted we put your lights back up.”
“But these aren’t my lights.” She motions to the sacks and boxes polluting her front yard. “Mine are in the plastic tub you’ve placed by the curb. How did you even get them? Did you break into my house?”
Folding my arms and resting them across the inflatable Santa box, I glare at her. “Finn opened the garage for me on his way out.”
“You really don’t need to do this. The boys and I can?—”
“I’m doing it. End of.” I lift the box and place it next to the other one. “You have no business being up on a ladder. Your leg is still healing.”
She doesn’t argue, which is shocking. The woman loves to argue. Instead, she brings up another sore subject that puts me in an even grumpier mood. “How’s your sister feeling?”
I was so mad at Cora when I heard she let the girls have Thanksgiving at Bethany’s. Cutting ties with her and the boys is the best way for us to stop missing them. But how can I be mad at her when here I am, standing in Bethany’s front yard, ready to make Christmas explode while putting a sour taste in my mouth? Not to mention that I appreciated Bethany stepping in when my sister needed help.
“She’ll be fine.” I shake my head, still having a hard time accepting the news she dropped in my lap after breakfast. “Although, I’m not sure I’ll be fine.”
Narrowing her eyes, she asks, “Why wouldn’t you be fine?”
Needing to keep busy so I can get this done before it turns dark, I walk over to where I placed my ladder and pick it up. “Because now there will be one more mouth to feed. And while I know it’s not my responsibility to provide for this new little human, I can’t let Cora struggle.”
“She’s pregnant.” Her non-question makes me skeptical, and I squint my eyes, silently coaxing her to clarify. “I know the signs, Nolan. I’ve been in her shoes. Does she know who the father is? Is it her ex?”
That would be the easiest and best possibility, but sadly, that is not the case. “No. It’s the mothersucker who took advantage of her while on her, break-free-from-my-stupid-ex, trip. If I ever find out who he is, he and I are going to have words.”
Mollie runs out of the front door and up to us. “Did he tell you the good news about Aunt Cora?”
Oh, to be four years old and not have a care in the world, free from the burdens that weigh on us as adults.
“He did.” Bethany crouches down to look my daughter in the eye. “You know what I think? I think I want you to take all these festive decorations you bought and use them at your house.”
Mollie tilts her head and frowns. “You don’t want them?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just think it would be more fun to have them in your yard so you can enjoy them.” Bethany clearly doesn’t want me here.
“But I can’t see them from my bedroom if they’re at my house.” My daughter points to her window that faces this way.
“Oh. I see.” Standing up, Bethany claps her hands. “Guess we had better get busy decorating, then.”
“Yippee!” Mollie jumps high with her fist in the air. “I’m going to get Kellie and make her help.” She turns to run, but then pauses at the end of the driveway and looks both ways before dashing across the street.
“Thank you for feeding the girls,” I tell her, since I’ve not gotten the chance yet. “It was all she could talk about. Said you made the best chocolate peanut butter pie.”
“It was my pleasure.” Beth pulls the tape off one box and removes a string of lights.
Because misery loves company, I grunt. “Bethany, if you want to change your mind?—”
“I don’t.” With a cold detachment, she cuts me off mid-sentence and twists the knife buried in my back, her eyes avoiding mine. “I’m seeing someone else.”
That shuts me up while it drives that knife deeper.
I think she’s lying, but it doesn’t matter. She’s just proven that she’s willing to go that extra mile to make sure I don’t get my hopes up. I’m tempted to walk away and leave this mess for her and her new man to figure out, but Mollie and Kellie join us, so I suffer and get to work.
For the next two hours, we work in an uncomfortable silence that is only broken by the girls’ chatter. Once everything is set up, we admire our collective efforts. I’ve gotta admit it looks amazing, and now I hate Christmas lights even more.
Kellie slips her hand in mine as she smiles up at me with a sadness I know we share. “Mom would have loved this.”
“I know, kiddo,” I tell her as I squeeze her hand and tug her under my arm. “She loved making me put all those damn lights up the first of November. And you know what? I loved it too.”
I’d almost forgotten Bethany was standing there until her voice invades my space. “That’s why you hated mine so much. Fudgesicles. I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
I shrug and walk back across the street to grab my stuff before she sees more than I want her to. My dead wife loved Christmas. She was a fanatic about decorating. As soon as they started selling Christmas decorations in the stores, she’d come home with a new item each week. I’d give her shit about it too, pretend it bothered me and grumbled about how no one should think about Christmas until the first of December. And after she died, I couldn’t get myself to pull out her collection and decorate. It was too hard.
Then we moved across the street from a woman who loved Christmas as much as Stephanie did. Putting out shit the day after Halloween, and at first it bothered me, made me want to go rip them all down. But over time, I started seeing it as something else, and that’s when I began giving her shit about not understanding the rules. And Bethany, just like Stephanie, only let that fuel her crazy and ran with it. And I believe that may have been when my heart slowly started to heal.
“Nolan.”
I don’t bother looking at her. “What now, Bethany? Do you want to share all the details about the new man in your life?”
“There is no new man,” she blurts out, causing me to quickly lift my head, instantly regretting it. “Not yet, at least. But that’s not what I was going to say. I wanted to say if you need a friend, I’m here.”
My mood drops to a new low.
“Never gonna happen.” I toss the ladder in the truck bed, making a loud clunk. “You think you can manage taking these down before July this year?”
Her response is a wordless nod.
“Good, because I think it’s best if I don’t. I’m sure you understand.” And then I jump in my truck and back it into my driveway.
Glancing up, I see Bethany still standing in the same spot. The lights illuminate her beauty and I hate that I can’t stop loving her when I know she will never love me back.
Bah fucking humbug!!