Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“But like all happiness, it did not last long…” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
B irthdays were always special in the Owens’ house. There’d be birthday cupcakes for breakfast. Dad made a special meal. The Wilsons always joined. Mom and Maura had been besties since they were teenagers, so it was not unusual for their birthdays to include both families.
Nat sank onto the plush chair in the sitting room. The old Victorian where she’d grown up featured a front sitting room, where entertaining happened, and a back living room that her parents called the TV room like they were Mr. and Mrs. Brady.
The ladies and Fitz lounged in the front sitting room. The humans sipped wine and munched on the contents of the cheeseboard Elle supplied. The pudgy pug snored on Nat’s lap while Lizzie used her big brown puppy eyes to implore her human grandma to drop the piece of cheese she waved in the air as she talked.
“I kind of love that in this family the men are in the kitchen while the ladies drink wine.” Elle grinned, sipping her glass of rosé.
Unlike Nat, the other three women in the room had serious culinary chops. Mom was the queen of the casserole. Maura never met a recipe she couldn’t make even better. Elle had some Great British Bake Off- level baking skills.
Nat aced her MCATs. She’d carried a 4.0 GPA during undergrad. She could speak Spanish and knew American Sign Language. She was in the top of her class in medical school but not burning the garlic bread and not giving the family food poisoning– Allegedly –was beyond her.
“Ladies,” Noah drawled as he sauntered into the room with a blue vase of yellow chrysanthemums. “Happy birthday, Heidi.” He bent to kiss Mom on the cheek and handed her the flowers.
Nat’s heart squeezed at the gesture. As weird as the entanglement of the two families made this situation with Noah, warmth spread at how sweet he was to her parents. He always brought gifts when he came to the house, and not just on special occasions. Dad hadn’t shoveled his front walkway or driveway since Noah moved back to Perry. Noah, who lived around the corner from them, woke early after any snow, no matter how tiny the accumulation, and not just shoveled for her parents but salted their walkways.
“Perfect choice of flower for a birthday.” Elle tipped her wine glass toward him. “They mean joy and longevity.”
“I see all the flower talk with Janet for the wedding is paying off,” Maura teased, taking a cracker from the cheeseboard on the coffee table.
As Elle explained all she learned from her florist aunt, Nat watched Noah move around the room. First, he kissed his mom on the cheek. Then moved to Lizzie, scratching her ears. Much like Nat, the pit bull had a crush on him. Within the first few pets, she rolled onto her back, letting him know she was open for all the belly rubs business.
Lizzie melted into his touch, groaning with canine pleasure.
As his hands stroked along her soft underbelly, his blue eyes drifted to Nat. Never had she been so jealous of a dog. Goddess, she wanted to push Lizzie aside and lay there, allowing his magic fingers to have their way with her.
“Natalie, are you okay? You look rosy. I’m worried you’re getting sick. You’ve looked like that most of the week,” her mom said.
Nat placed a hand on her heated cheek. “I think it’s the wine. Need to eat more.”
“Here.” Noah grabbed the cheeseboard off the coffee table and held it up to her.
Nat took a piece of gouda with far more sensual slowness than was appropriate. “Thank you.” She bit into the cheese, enjoying the slideshow of his throat muscles working and the dilation of his eyes with the languid lick of her tongue across her lips.
“Do you want more?” he murmured, a slight catch in his tone.
Goddess, did she. It was a little more than twenty-four hours since they’d feasted upon each other before saying goodbye.
“I’m saving my appetite for what I really want.” She bit her lower lip, tamping down the breathless quality of her voice.
“Noah looks a little flushed, too,” Maura said. “Maybe it’s too hot in here.”
Smirking, Noah placed the cheeseboard back on the table. “I’ll be fine, mom.” He stood up and dusted off his hands. “Are the guys in the kitchen?”
“Except for Fitz. He’s hanging with the ladies.” Mom beamed at her sleeping pug grandbaby.
It was looking more likely that the four-legged variety would be the only grandchildren for her parents. At least for now. Elle and Clayton didn’t want kids and Nat… Well, she wanted them but wasn’t sure if Noah did. That was too soon of a thought to have let alone a conversation to have with him.
“It is a good spot to be in.” Noah stared at Fitz where he’d curled up on Nat’s lap.
Maybe someone else is jealous of a dog.
He turned toward the entryway. “I should probably go check on them.”
“Elle, what do yellow gardenias mean?” Nat asked, stopping Noah’s steps.
He twisted, facing her, a lopsided grin kicked across his face.
Their eyes locked, waiting for Elle to share the meaning behind the flowers he’d brought her. The idea of the flowers meaning more than just an apology never dawned on her until he brought flowers symbolizing long life for Mom’s birthday. Nat was dying to know not just what they meant but also, if he knew and had picked them specially for her because of that meaning.
Elle clicked her tongue. “They’re the flowers for secret crushes or love.”
Busted! Her eyebrow arched.
Bashful pride lit his face. Those blue eyes twinkled with playful mirth, like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie. “I’m going to go set the table since the other guys are cooking. Nat, you want to help?”
“Sure. Mom, you want the pudge monster?” Nat lifted a now perturbed Fitz.
“Don’t fat shame my grandbaby,” she cooed, taking Fitz, who nuzzled into her chest.
“Wash your hands. You’ve both been petting the dogs,” Maura called as they started to walk away.
Noah shook his head and rolled his eyes, mouthing moms . His mom hadn’t stopped mothering him just because he was thirty-eight. Just another thing Nat and he had in common.
“Use the upstairs bathroom. The one downstairs is out of commission until the plumber comes tomorrow,” Mom shouted.
They ran up the steps to the bathroom. As soon as she slipped inside, he peeked down the stairs and ducked in after her. Keeping the door ajar to listen for footsteps, he pulled her into his arms.
“This is torture,” he breathed. “When I walked in, all I wanted to do was kiss you.”
She raised to her tiptoes, encircling the nape of his neck. “I was thinking very naughty things when you were petting Lizzie.”
His mouth quirked. “Yeah?” Those lips of his found hers in a savoring kiss.
Movement from downstairs halted their kisses.
Noah poked his head out the door. “It’s Lizzie,” he said, the tight muscles in his jaw relaxing.
Seconds later, the pit bull bounded into the small room. Her long tail slapped against the door frame and Noah as she pushed into the bathroom.
“Looks like your Owens ladies’ fan club is all present.”
“Ha!” he laughed, turning on the faucet for them to wash their hands.
“So, secret crush flowers?” She hip-checked him, lathering the lavender-scented soap on her hands.
“I told you I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. I’ve wanted you…this…” he motioned between them with his wet, foamy hands. “…for a while. I know we’re still figuring this out, but whatever is happening between us, I want you to know that I’m in this.”
Her pulse ticked up.
He was in this. Whatever this was, he was in it. Noah’s assurances offered a promise for more. For the dream of the shared meals from last week, watching him cook in her kitchen, going to bed together, hands clasped as they walked into restaurants, Noah holding her when she was sad or happy, and so much more could be their lives.
“I thought you said Noah was here.” Clayton’s voice crept upstairs, bursting their bubble.
“They’re washing their hands before setting the table,” Mom shouted from the living room.
“Why are they upstairs?”
“The downstairs bathroom is out of order.”
“What? It’s not?—”
“Keep your pants on,” Noah yelled down the stairs, cutting Clayton off. “I had to wash my hands again, because Lizzie found me and demanded more pets.” He glanced down at the dog, who tilted a pouting face up at him, having not received the aforementioned additional pets. “I’ll sneak you a piece of turkey if you play along,” he whispered to her.
After washing their hands and sharing one last kiss, they headed back down.
Clayton stole Noah for some secret groom/best man conversation. Nat and Elle set the table.
Each year for Mom’s birthday, Dad did a Thanksgiving-themed dinner. It was Mom’s favorite holiday. Plus, he liked the idea of a day dedicated to things he was thankful for being the theme for celebrating his wife.
Grandma Owens’ antique lace tablecloth was draped over the table laden with the mini feast. Savory scents mingled with the floral aroma of the chrysanthemums now located on the sideboard. Light flickered from two long white candles flanking the platter of freshly carved turkey.
Their seats weren’t assigned but each family dinner they sat in the same spots. Noah, Maura, and Scott sat on one side of the eight-person table, with Nat, Elle, and Clayton on the other side. Her parents sat at the opposite ends of the oval-shaped table.
Noah sat, his jaw clicking. His eyes flipped to the cooked meat at the center of the table and then to Nat, who stood holding a giant bowl of butternut squash. Instead of placing it at her side, she switched it with the bowl of cornbread and sausage dressing.
It wouldn’t make much of a difference, but the idea of Noah being assaulted by the smell of cooked meat was too much to bear. She rearranged the table, moving anything not containing meat to where Noah sat and moving the meat dishes away from him.
“Nat, what are you doing?” Dad asked, forehead puckered in puzzlement.
“I like this configuration better. It separates it into food groups. Veggies. Meats. Carbs.” She motioned around the table.
Elle beamed. “Love it! I’ll be avoiding that section.” She pointed to the carbs located near Dad’s end of the table. “I have a wedding dress to fit in to.”
Nat felt a brief brush against her leg from beneath the table where she stood.
Noah looked up with a thankful smile.
“This smells amazing!” Mom gushed, strolling into the dining room, followed by Noah’s parents and Clayton.
Nat stepped away from Noah and took her regular seat directly across from him. Dinner was delicious. As always, Dad threw it down in the kitchen.
“So, Nat, are you keeping your dad on his toes at the clinic?” Scott asked, spooning up a bite of mashed potatoes.
“She sure is.” Dad smiled.
Nat shrugged. “More like I’m riding his coattails.” It came out snarkier than she intended.
“Hardly. That electronic charting system and tablet process you had us implement in July has saved us so much time.” He placed his warm palm atop her hand. “She’s helped us innovate.”
“Good. You’ll be able to join us in retirement soon. Then we can plan that European cruise the four of us have talked about going on for years.” Scott pointed at Dad with his spoon.
“I don’t know about retirement yet. Not at least for another year or so,” Mom said, then sipped her red wine.
“Why not?” His face scrunched. “You have Natalie to run the clinic. Plus, you’ve got the business side running like a well-oiled machine. I’m sure if Natalie needs guidance in that area, Noah can give her some tips.”
“We just want to give Natalie time to settle in before we run off.” Dad chuckled, patting Nat’s hand.
The gesture was less sweet and more like twelve-year-old Nat being told she still needed a babysitter. She cast her gaze down to her plate, picking up her fork, and spearing a piece of squash.
“I think Nat’s ready now,” Noah said, his tone was resolute.
Nat’s eyes shot over to him.
“I mean, it’s one thing if you’re not ready to retire because you enjoy the work you’re doing, but if it’s out of concern for Nat…she’s got this.”
“I second that.” Elle raised her glass.
Nat gave them both a small smile.
“That reminds me. Nat, I ran into Laura Ellis at the market last Friday. She mentioned that you and Duncan are seeing each other again.” Scott lifted his eyebrows a couple times.
Nat cringed. Scott’s waggled eyebrows when he mentioned Duncan deeply disturbed her.
“She mentioned he’s an attorney now. A doctor and a lawyer. Imagine if they got married.” Scott nudged Dad. “You’re hitting the jackpot with who your kids end up with.”
“You’re dating Duncan? From high school?” Dad blinked rapidly. “When did this start?”
What the actual fuck is happening? Nat’s heart raced. Since when had her love life become a topic for dinner conversation?
Noah’s jaw clenched. “They’re not seeing each other.”
“What?” Clayton’s head ping-ponged between Noah and Nat.
“We went on a few dates, but we ended things,” she offered.
Mom and Maura shot knowing looks between themselves. No doubt, Maura knew but hadn’t informed Scott. The dads were always the last to know.
“Aw, Nat.” Scott frowned. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have brought it up. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m totally fine with it.” She hoped her smile was reassuring.
“Duncan’s a dick,” Noah muttered.
“Language! You’re not in the Marines anymore,” Maura half-heartedly chastised her son.
“Sorry, Mom.” He flashed her an apologetic smile. “Nat’s too good for Duncan.”
“Agreed. I didn’t like it when Elle told me they went out.” Clayton picked up his beer. “How’d you know they weren’t seeing each other?”
“You told him to check in on Nat, remember?” Elle elbowed him. “Noah takes his job as the Owens family protector seriously.”
Noah nodded, his eyes lingering on Nat from across the table.
Stop looking at me like that! They’ll notice. Nat crossed and uncrossed her legs. This was far too much attention on her to be comfortable.
“Well, thanks for checking in on Nat.” Clayton picked up his fork. “I never liked Duncan.”
“You never liked any of her boyfriends,” Mom teased.
“It was more than that. There was something about the guy that Evan really disliked. He didn’t trust him. He said…” he stopped speaking, his eyes dropping on Mom.
The white of her knuckles was on full display where she gripped her fork. A tiny tremor wobbled in her hands, tears welled in her eyes, and her lips quivered.
It was like the ghost of Evan had walked into the dining room, and taken a seat at the table, to remind them that he was still there. His presence did not feel like the warmth of a remembered sunny afternoon but the chilled breath of a barren winter night.
The guilty swirl in Nat’s belly crept up her throat. Stinging bile threatened to choke her.
“Heidi.” Dad opened his mouth but closed it as Clayton started to speak.
“Mom…I’m?—”
“Heidi,” Noah interrupted, turning to her. “Did I tell you we’re launching a new cider in the fall? It’s an apple cider aged in a whisky barrel, and we serve it warm.”
“That sounds lovely, dear,” Mom said, but her voice was laced with a shaky quality, like a baby deer using its legs for the first time.
“Yep, we’re calling it the Boss…it’s named after you.”
Mom turned to him with wide eyes. “Really?”
“We were going to announce it during Fall Fest in September, but since it’s your birthday, I wanted to share the good news with you.”
Nat’s heart swelled.
“Oh, Noah, that is so sweet!” Mom gushed as she rose and walked over and hugged him.
“Way to show us up on the gifts, son.” Scott laughed.
After dinner, Nat helped clean the kitchen. It was the only time her help in the kitchen was welcomed. Standing at the sink, she rinsed the plates. Dad brewed coffee and tea while Noah carried dishes into the kitchen. Everyone else sat on the back porch digesting before digging into the birthday cake. The last item was loaded into the dishwasher, and Nat filled the sink for the pots and pans, allowing the hot soapy water to wash over her hands.
“I’m going to take this out,” Dad said, carrying the tray with the coffee carafe, teapot, and cups.
“I’ll finish the dishes and then bring the cake out.” Her stare remained fixed on the gazebo in the backyard.
How often had she sat out there with Evan? Their last conversation took place there.
You’re making a mistake. Evan’s voice hissed in her ears.
She closed her eyes tight, losing herself in that memory. Her eyes shot open at the gentle touch of a hand around hers in the water. Twisting her head, her eyes met Noah’s.
“Are you okay?” he asked, squeezing her hand beneath the sudsy water.
“I…I’m fine.”
“Please, don’t lie to me.” His firm fingers massaged her palm. “We don’t have to talk about it…not ’til you’re ready, but please don’t hide how you’re feeling from me. I can’t do my job if I don’t know how you’re really doing.” His tender tone coaxed.
“You mean as the Owens family protector?”
“As your...”
Nat’s breath stuttered. “My what?”
“Whatever you want to call me…call us…my job is to be there with you. To stand beside you.” He nudged her with his elbow. “So, please answer me honestly…are you okay?”
“No.” Her voice cracked.
After cake, everyone drifted back to their own homes. Noah and his parents left, then Elle, Clayton, and the puppies. Nat sat with her parents for a bit before jumping into her Jeep to head home.
She drove toward the Little Red Barn. Across the yard, Clayton’s pickup was parked in the driveway. Instead of slowing down to turn into the driveway, she drove past, made a U-turn, and headed back to town. Like iron filings to a magnet, she was pulled back to Noah.
Parking her recognizable yellow vehicle was problematic. It never seemed obnoxious until she was trying to sneak around with Noah. Again, she drove past her destination.
The park didn’t close until eleven, and it was only eight, so she drove in and parked by the tennis courts. The sky darkened with sunset, but the park was still full of families playing and softball teams practicing. She walked through the greenspace toward Noah’s house.
Walking up the steps of the blue Victorian, her rapid intake and exhale kept cadence with each step. She stood, tugging the hem of her dress. Holding her breath, she knocked.
Noah opened the door. Changed out of the button-up and jeans from dinner, he wore a fitted grey T-shirt and black track pants. His feet were bare.
“God, I hoped you’d show up,” he murmured, reaching out and pulling her into him.
Collapsing against his firm chest, she croaked. “Evan’s dead because of me.”