Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I know I shall be homesick for you…Even from heaven.” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
T he night air caressed Nat’s exposed arms, its cool kiss causing goosebumps to bloom. It had been warmer when she’d first come out to sit on the dock. The Boston College hoodie she’d worn with her shorts was draped over her legs as she lounged in the white Adirondack chair, sipping from a bottle of cider. She should go inside, but the serenity of the stars scattered across the velvety sky and the hum of acoustic music from her phone kept her in place.
It was needed respite after the good but emotional talk with Dad earlier today. Eyes closed, Nat leaned back in the chair as the music thrummed through her, easing the tension that had tightened her muscles.
Talking to Dad had been a huge step, but there were so many more steps to go. Goddess, there was a whole staircase. They needed to talk to Clayton and figure out a strategy to approach Mom about Evan. It wouldn’t be enough for just Dad and her to talk about Evan. The only way for them to move forward was as a family. Evan wasn’t just her loss but their whole family’s loss. Therefore, the entire family needed to handle it together. None of them would be free if one of them remained imprisoned by grief.
“You look cold,” Noah’s deep baritone called Nat away from her thoughts.
Nat blinked her eyes open. Noah stood, hands in pockets, at the edge of the dock on the stone path. With Elle out of town for the week for work, Clayton and he had hung out. When Nat had returned home from dinner with Summer she’d found Noah’s SUV parked in front of the farmhouse.
She waved to her lap. “I’m using my sweatshirt as a blanket.”
The heat of his gaze dragged along her bare arms and shoulders in her pink tank top.
“I was too wiped to get up and get a blanket.” Exhaustion dragged down her tone.
“Are you okay?” he asked, seeming to study her with shrewd, assessing eyes.
“Yeah. Dad and I had a heart-to-heart at lunch. It was good, but it was a lot. We talked about Evan and about how I’ve been feeling at the clinic.”
“That’s great, baby.”
Baby. The endearment ignited a sensation of being wrapped up in a fluffy warm blanket. Any lingering tension dissolved with Noah’s proximity.
“Did you also talk to your mom?”
“No. I’d need more than this cider after that conversation.” She tipped her almost empty bottle to him. “We’re going to strategize that convo. Dad suggested Clayton, he, and I figure it out together.”
He stepped closer, halted, and looked toward the farmhouse.
“You want to kiss me so bad right now, don’t you?” she teased.
“So bad.” His throat bobbed.
“Oh, my dad knows about us.” The cider and exhaustion loosened her lips. Tipsiness dripped through her from the emotional talk with Dad, along with the bottle of cider. Goddess, she was a lightweight.
“You told him?” Bewilderment twisted his expression.
“No. You know how he fancies himself an amateur sleuth with all those detective novels he reads? He figured it out and confronted me at lunch with a joke about us giving him human grandbabies. Well, giving Mom grandbabies, but I guess they’d be his too.”
A cautious huff of laughter slipped past Noah’s lopsided grin.
“He approves, by the way.” She drained her cider. “He says you’re a good man and he suspected we were into each other for a while.”
Noah shook his head. “Your dad never ceases to surprise me. So, how do you feel about him knowing?”
Placing the empty bottle on the dock, she decided she was too cold. Grabbing her sweatshirt, she tugged it over her head. “I’m okay with it. Dad was never my concern.”
Noah nodded.
Nat adjusted in the chair, sitting cross-legged, her short legs exposed to the chilled air. “How was boys’ night with Clayton?”
“Good. We got Daryl’s and watched a baseball game.” Noah stepped to the chair, placing his firm hand on her shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, my brave girl.”
She moved her hand to his and leaned her head against the warmth of his arm. She had been brave. Noah didn’t make her brave but reminded her she already was. It bolstered her for having the conversation with her dad today.
“Thank you for reminding me who I am when I forget.” She closed her eyes, letting his soothing presence fold around her.
“I thought you were leaving.” Clayton’s voice called in the distance.
Nat’s head jolted up, and she released Noah’s hand. Noah stepped away from the chair, turning toward the sound of shuffling feet.
“I am. I saw Nat and was just saying hi,” Noah offered.
Nat adjusted in the chair, crossing her legs in front of her. “Hey, Clay Pigeon, how was boys’ night?”
“Ugh,” he grumbled at the nickname. “Good. How was your night?” Clayton reached the dock, stepping to its center.
“Good. I had dinner with Summer, and now I’m just decompressing with the stars and cider.” She waved to the sky and then to the empty bottle sitting next to the leg of the chair.
Clayton’s eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t you have pants on?”
Nat looked at her bare legs. “I’m wearing shorts. They’re pants-lite.”
Clayton took off the Cornell hoodie he wore and draped it over her legs.
“Seriously? I’m not a little girl!” she muttered.
Noah’s eyes flashed with an apology as he looked at Nat. She wasn’t sure if the apology was for him not wearing a sweatshirt to offer her or if it was for Clayton’s protective yet Victorian instincts. It could be for both.
“It’s a casualty of having a big brother.” Clayton shrugged. “Are you still stopping by the brewery tonight?” He turned to Noah.
Noah nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to help Todd with closing. I should get going.”
“Good night, Noah,” Nat said.
How she wanted to stand up and wrap her arms around him. To kiss him goodnight and beg him to come back after closing. But the sweatshirt draped on her lap stopped her as if it was an anchor holding her down.
“Night.” Noah tipped his head to Nat and then to Clayton.
As Noah walked away, Clayton crossed the dock taking the chair opposite of her. “It’s been a while since I sat out here. It’s been such a busy summer that Elle and I haven’t spent much time out here.”
“Yeah. I come out here at least once or twice a week to sit after dinner.”
“I noticed.” He leaned back in the chair and stretched his long legs in front of him. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out too. I know since Elle and I got engaged, we’ve been busy. I’m sorry about that. Maybe we can schedule a weekly thing.”
Nat arched a brow. “What’s causing this brotherly guilt?”
“I mentioned to Noah I hadn’t seen much of you this summer, and he asked if I’d scheduled anything with you. I realized that I hadn’t asked you to hang out in a while. I don’t know…I don’t like that you live on the same property as me, and I never see you unless it’s at family dinners at Mom and Dad’s.”
It had been a while since they’d spent any brother/sister time. Since coming home, Nat had been focused on the clinic and building her new life back home, while Clayton had been focused on his engagement to Elle. They’d not intentionally pulled back from each other. It was just the casual result of life taking over.
“Yeah.” She sighed a heavy breath. “I’ve missed hanging out with you too. I agree…let’s set up weekly dinner dates.”
He grinned. “Great. As long as you’re not cooking, I’m game.”
She flipped him off.
Teasing laughter glinted in his gray eyes. “Manners.”
Affection swirled with her tipsy exhaustion. “Do you remember when you’d come home on weekends when you were at Cornell, and you’d take Evan and me to Daryl’s for pizza and pinball?”
Clayton nodded, his gaze staring into the inky darkness. “Evan always got the high score.”
Nat could almost hear the ding of the pinball machine and Evan’s cheering as he crushed Clayton’s score. Her once-girlish hoots of, “Go Evan!” filled her ears. The image of the three of them huddled around the flashing and pinging pinball machine broke loose a tiny tear that rolled down her cheek.
She dashed the tear away. “Dad and I talked about Evan today.”
Clayton’s head turned. “Wh…wh…what?” he stuttered.
Nat bit her lip, trying not to react. Clayton’s childhood stutter came out when he was tired or too many emotions tripped his words as he tried to speak around them. The last time she’d heard him stutter was at Evan’s funeral. He’d stumbled over his words as people approached the family in the church to offer their condolences. It was why she’d turned to Noah, mouthing a request for help and to deliver the eulogy instead of Clayton.
“We talked about how we need to well…talk. None of us can move on if we don’t. We talked about Mom. I’m worried about her,” she admitted.
“I am, too,” he murmured.
The truth settled between them.
“I think we need to talk to Mom, and I think we need to talk to a professional about our grief…and I think I need to talk to someone on my own, as well.” The unrestrained tears fell from her eyes. “I miss him so much. I feel so guilty that he’s not here. That he’s not at the clinic. That he’s not here with us now. That he’s not going to be at your wedding.”
Clayton stood and dropped to his haunches in front of her. “Why do you feel guilty?”
“I was supposed to go running with him that night, and I didn’t because we got into a fight over Duncan.”
Clayton closed his eyes, seeming to take in her words. “We only ever ran with you at the park.”
She nodded. Falling tears fuzzed her vision.
“Evan’s accident was not your fault.” Each word came with a deliberate slowness, as if he wanted her to not just hear each syllable, but to let the truth absolve her.
“I know that, but I don’t feel that.” It was her truth. Intellectually, she knew that Evan died as a result of an accident, but her feelings weren’t logical. In her heart, she still believed that if she hadn’t argued with her brother, Evan would still be here. That this sibling moment would be the three of them. Not just a triangle missing its vital side.
Clayton folded his arms around her. Nat melted into his embrace, allowing one brother to comfort her for the loss of the other.
“You know, Elle talks to someone every two weeks. It’s helped her to deal with a lot of things. I can ask her for their contact info.” He rubbed soothing circles across her back.
“That would be great,” she sniffled.
He pulled back and looked at her. “I’m so sorry we stopped talking about Evan. That I left you alone with this. I didn’t do my job as your big brother.” He cleared his throat. “I should have been there for you.”
“We should have been there for each other.”
“It’s not too late for us to do that now. To be there for each other and for Mom and Dad.”
“It’s not too late.” She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight.