Chapter 7
Seven
N orah studied Matt’s profile as they drove away from the Whitleys’. Still drop-dead gorgeous after all these years.
The streetlights cast a warm glow on his features, highlighting the familiar curve of his jaw and the slight crinkle around his eyes. Norah felt a flutter in her stomach, a mixture of nostalgia and something more complicated.
“Well, that went smoothly,” Matt said.
“Yeah, I almost don’t trust it. Smooth scares me.”
“You always were a worrywart.” He gave her a gentle smile. “Georgia will be spoiled rotten in no time. Trust in the process.”
Norah smiled back, leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, and angled him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, I think it was love at first sight from both Georgia and Colleen.”
“They’re a perfect match.” Matt guided his truck toward the center of town. The familiar streets of Christmas Beach rolled by each turn, bringing back memories of their shared past. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Helping Georgia find a home, especially with Christmas just around the corner.”
Norah nodded. The twinkling lights lining the streets of their small town seemed to blur. She should’ve felt relieved, happy even, after finding a perfect home for Georgia, but her thoughts kept drifting to Matt, to their shared past and how much had changed between them.
“Thoughts?” he asked.
“About?”
“The dogs. Our adoption event…”
“No, no. Just hoping things work out for Georgia with Colleen and Dwight.”
“You always were a worrier,” he said, his voice tinged with affection.
She didn’t know what to say to that. It was true. Silence filled the cab, comfortable yes, but also weighted with everything she wanted to say to him and couldn’t find the right time or place.
He cornered the town square decked out in holiday lights. Stalls lined the square, decked with festive decorations, while families and couples strolled between them, sipping hot cocoa and nibbling on sweet treats. Christmas carols played from the outdoor speakers atop the courthouse.
“What’s going on here?” Matt asked, slowing the truck at the intersection.
“Oh, it’s the Christmas craft fair.” Norah squinted through the windshield, taking in the sight. The courthouse stood majestic in the background, its columns wrapped in lights. “I forgot that was tonight.”
“Want to check it out?” He glanced at her. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “We could walk around, maybe grab something to eat?”
The part of her that loved Christmas yelled, “Yes,” but the idea of immersing herself in the festive crowd with Matt felt a bit overwhelming.
“Hot chocolate and churros,” he said. “Your favorite.”
He still remembered. Norah swallowed back her fear. “Sure, why not? Let’s check it out.”
Matt found a parking spot and they climbed from the truck. The crisp night air kissed their skin, not cold but almost chilly. The smell of cinnamon, roasting chestnuts, and pine mingled with the sounds of carolers singing from a small stage at the far end of the courthouse.
“I love Christmas,” she said, breathing in the magic. For a moment, she felt young again, full of wonder and excitement.
“I know.” Matt fell into step beside her. “It’s been a long time since I ventured out into one of these.”
“Same. I used to love coming to this when I was younger. But, well… life gets in the way.”
“Yeah, it does. Funny how we always think we have more time, huh?”
They wandered through the fair, taking in the sights and sounds. Children ran past, their faces painted like reindeer and elves, while their parents called after them with fond exasperation. At one booth, an artist created intricate glass ornaments, the molten glass glowing like captured starlight as he shaped it with practiced hands.
Norah stopped by a booth to admire a collection of bracelets. The delicate silver chains glinted in the fairy lights, each one adorned with unique charms that captured the essence of Christmas Beach?tiny lighthouses, seashells, and starfish.
She ran her fingers over a bracelet with a miniature snow globe charm, remembering how she used to beg her parents to stay until the very end of the fair each year. She smiled at the vendor and started walking again.
Matt stayed right beside her as they investigated more of the offerings on display?handmade soaps in enticing scents, the ubiquitous seascape paintings, and Christmas tree ornaments.
At one booth, a man carved intricate wooden figurines, his knife moving in swift, sure strokes. Norah watched, mesmerized, as a block of wood slowly took the shape of two waltzing elves.
“Beautiful,” she murmured.
Matt leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Not as beautiful as you.”
Norah froze, her heart racing. She turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of teasing, but his gaze was steady, earnest. “Matt, I?—”
A group of carolers burst into song nearby, drowning out her words. The moment passed, slipping away like sand through her fingers.
They reached a stall selling hot cocoa.
“Hot chocolate and those churros?”
“Sure.”
Matt got in line, and Norah stood off to the side, not wanting to be in the way. He chatted easily with the vendor, his laughter carrying over the noise of the crowd.
The festive air, the scent of cocoa and sweet treats, the buzz of holiday cheer—stirred something inside her, pulled at the long-buried corners of her mind, tugging her back to the past, to the week before Matt and Nate left for school in Pennsylvania. Norah was preparing to return to Texas A&M for her junior year.
They had stayed at a hotel near the airport, making it easy for the boys to catch their early flight and for her to drive on to College Station. It seemed like a perfectly laid plan—except for the gnawing ache that settled in her chest at the thought of Matt being so far away.
That night, while Nate and Matt crossed the parking lot to grab food at a burger joint, Norah stayed behind in the hotel room. She claimed she wasn’t hungry, but in truth, she hadn’t known how to handle her feelings. Or the fact that Matt wouldn’t just be a short drive away anymore. The thought of not seeing him until Christmas felt unbearable, and it left her restless.
Finally, unable to take it any longer, she grabbed her jacket and left the room, walking to the restaurant where she found Matt sitting alone in a corner booth, his back to her.
She ordered her food, then slid into the booth across from him, setting down her order of extra-large fries, half hoping he’d share.
“Are you planning to stay up all night and sleep on the plane?” she asked, trying to sound casual, though her heart pounded because she wanted to say more.
Matt picked up a fry, chewing for a moment before responding. “What am I doing, Norah? Why am I going all the way to Pennsylvania when I could go to A&M? Be with you.”
His words caught her off guard, hitting her harder than she expected. They never talked about their feelings—not out loud, anyway. They had kept things safe and platonic, but the sexual tension between them had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.
“You’re going to Pennsylvania for the degree you want,” she said, her voice tight as she tried to steer the conversation toward something less… terrifying.
Matt hadn’t met her eyes. He was too busy tearing at the fry sleeve, his fingers working at the edges. “The degree at A&M is just as good. I don’t want to go to Pennsylvania, Norah. I want to stay here. With you.”
She wanted the same thing for so long, but she hadn’t allowed herself to believe it could happen. She was two years older than Matt, and at that age, the difference felt like an ocean. He still had his life ahead of him—new experiences, new friends. And she was already halfway through college, trying to find her place in the world.
“We wouldn’t see each other,” she said, her voice faltering. “Our courses are different. It wouldn’t work.”
Matt gave her a sad, desperate smile. “We could meet up in the cafeteria every day and catch up. I’d take that.”
Norah’s chest tightened. She had known Matt for five years when his folks moved in next door to hers, and the idea of risking that friendship and of losing him if things didn’t work had scared her more than she could admit.
“Matt…”
“What if I want more than that?” Matt asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Before she could respond, he took the fry sleeve and fashioned it into a paper ring. He reached for her hand.
Her mouth dropped open. What was Matt doing?
He slipped it onto her finger with a playful grin. “There. It’s a promise not to forget me.”
Norah stared at the makeshift ring, her heart racing. His gesture was sweet, but it terrified her. She was too young to make promises to anyone and so was he.
Slowly, she took off the fry wrapper ring and placed it on the table between them. “I don’t need a ring to remember you, Matt. I’ll never forget you.”
His smile faded, replaced by something more serious, something sad. “What if I wanted the ring to mean more?”
Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t bear the thought of Matt making decisions that big when he was only eighteen.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t make this harder.”
Matt stood then, his movements abrupt. “Okay. It doesn’t matter.”
Then Nate appeared from the bathroom, ending the private moment between them, and that was that.
“Norah?”
She blinked, the memories fading as Matt’s voice yanked her back to the present. His eyes were on her, filled with quiet concern. It was the same voice—the same look—he had given her all those years ago.
“Are you okay?” he asked, standing there with a sack of churros and two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands. The whipped cream on top was already starting to melt, creating swirls of white in the rich brown liquid.
“I’m fine.” Norah shook her head, trying to wave off the lingering ghosts of the past.
Matt stepped closer. “You went somewhere just now... in your mind. Where did you go?”
Automatically, she accepted the paper cup and churro he passed to her, unable to meet his gaze. “I went back to that night at the fast-food place. The night before you left for Pennsylvania.”
Matt’s eyes softened, a flicker of old pain flashing across his face. “Oh, that night.”
Norah took a deep breath, steeling herself against the rush of emotion. “Matt, I?—”
He shook his head gently, cutting her off. “It’s ancient history, Norah. We were kids.”
“Were we?” she asked, surprised by the tremor in her voice. “Sometimes I wonder if we ever really stopped being those kids, suspended in time. Both of us are still single in our forties. What’s that all about?”
Matt’s tender eyes studied her, and Norah saw the boy she had known peek out from behind the man he had become. “Maybe we haven’t. Maybe that’s why we’re here now, trying to figure out how to be around each other again.”
Norah nodded, the weight of the years between them pressing down on her chest. “Maybe.” She looked down at the hot chocolate. “I should get home. It’s way past time for Paddy’s dinner.”
“Right. Paddy.” He gave her a melancholy smile and Norah couldn’t help feeling she’d disappointed him somehow. Or maybe she’d just disappointed herself.
They walked back to the truck in silence, the festive lights and music of the craft fair fading into the background. They sipped their hot chocolate and made small talk, but things seemed strained, and Norah didn’t know how to loosen the mood.
Matt drove her home, chatting casually about the dogs and the adoption event and by the time they reached her driveway, the weight of their shared history hung between them like an unasked question.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.
“There’s no need.”
But the look on Matt’s face—the same wounded expression he’d had all those years ago when she turned down his fry wrapper ring—wrenched her heart.
She opened the truck door and stepped out into the night. “Matt?”
“Yeah.”
“I never forgot you. Not for a single day.”
A slow smile spread across Matt’s face. “Neither did I, Norah. Neither did I.”