Chapter 18 #2
Shep and I follow Casey through the diner, weaving between tables. When we reach a booth in the back, Casey slides in, motioning for us to sit across from him. Judging by the half-empty cup of coffee and orange juice on the table, they’re still waiting for their breakfast order.
I scoot in first with Shep right behind me, his hand settling possessively on my thigh under the table.
A woman steps out of the nearby hallway, who I assume is Amy. She’s wearing a red sweater that stretches across her round belly, with brown hair piled into a messy bun. Her hazel eyes brighten when she spots us.
She’s practically glowing, and it makes me wonder what it will be like to be pregnant someday.
As an only child, I’ve always wanted siblings, so having a big family of my own has been a lifelong dream.
A series of images flashes through my mind—Shep and I finding out we’re expecting, our baby nestled in my arms in a rocking chair by the fire, and the three of us visiting Maple and Blaze at the barn.
I mentally scold myself for letting my imagination run wild when things between us are still so uncertain.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Amy exclaims when she joins us at the table, tucking a rogue chestnut strand into the bun atop her head. “You must be Noelle. Casey told me Shep brought someone special to the honky-tonk the other night, and I was hoping to get the chance to meet you.”
Casey helps her into the booth beside him, then drapes an arm around her as she settles into the crook of his shoulder.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say with a smile. “Shep said you were behind the Christmas tree outside High Noon. It was the perfect touch.”
“I’m glad someone appreciates it.” She glances at Shep and Casey, giving them both a pointed look. “Those specialty drinks with festive names were all me too.”
“The Bootylicious Blitzen is an iconic name.” I grin.
“That was one of my better ideas, if I do say so myself,” Amy states proudly before taking a sip of orange juice.
“Since you’re the brains behind this operation, I’m thinking I should hire you and let this husband of yours learn from the sidelines,” Shep says, tipping his head toward Casey.
“Just ’cause I handle all the boring stuff like scheduling and inventory instead of naming drinks after famous reindeer doesn’t mean I’m not pulling my weight,” Casey mutters.
Amy pats his chest with a teasing laugh. “Relax, babe, your job’s safe from me. I rather like you earning the money while I find ways to spend it.” She cuts a mock glare at Shep. “You wouldn’t dare fire him, not when we’re about to have another mouth to feed.” She rubs her belly for emphasis.
Shep grunts, but there’s a softness in his gaze.
I appreciate that his friends can playfully challenge him while offering unwavering support. He may have believed he was alone for all these years, but he had plenty of people ready and waiting to embrace him with open arms.
“On a brighter note,” Amy chimes, “Casey gave me my Christmas present early, and I love it. Thank you, Shep. The rocking chair is perfect.”
Shep waves her off. “It’s no trouble. Once the baby’s here and has a name, I’ll engrave it.”
“That’ll be really special.” Amy beams. “Bring Noelle along and we’ll make a proper evening of it. I’m sure I’ll be craving some adult company beyond my hovering mother or my worrywart husband.” She leans over and pecks Casey on the cheek.
Shep gives my thigh a squeeze as our eyes meet, heavy with unspoken sadness. The reality that I’ll be gone soon hurts more than I could’ve ever anticipated.
Just then, Marge arrives carrying a tray loaded with drinks and our breakfast. My biscuits and gravy are piping hot and look downright delicious.
“Enjoy your meal, y’all. If there’s anything else I can get you, just holler,” she says before moving on to take another table’s order.
A chorus of thank-yous fills the air before we dig in.
I cut into a steaming biscuit, stab a forkful, and blow on it before taking a bite. The sausage gravy is creamy and peppery, while the biscuits are light, fluffy, and buttery.
“This might be the best breakfast I’ve ever had,” I say between bites.
Shep chuckles. “Glad you like it.”
I lean in close, letting my lips brush his ear. “Thanks for bringing me here and sharing this tradition with me. I wouldn’t trade being here with you on Christmas Eve for anything.”
“Glad you’re here too, Sunshine. More than you know.”
I’m outside the diner, glancing at Shep through the window, while he handles the bill.
He’s still at the cash register where Marge is talking his ear off.
Her warm smile makes it obvious she’s happy he stopped by.
From this angle, I can’t see Shep’s face, but his posture is relaxed, and he seems completely at ease with her.
Another reason I love small towns: The connections people form never fade, no matter how long someone’s been away.
I can’t help but feel a pang of envy, longing for a community that is close and unshakable.
I have Gemma and my parents, but there’s something special about having an entire town embrace you like family, even if you aren’t related by blood.
It’s one of the things I’ve missed about small-town life. I was young when we moved to the city, but I still remember the neighbors who stopped by with treats, the backyard birthday parties, and the small acts of kindness that made ordinary days unforgettable.
Just then, Casey and Amy step outside, with him fussing with her coat zipper as if it’s the most important job he has. Seems I’m not the only one whose man is obsessed with safety and comfort.
“Noelle, there you are,” Amy says in a sing-song voice. “Shep should be out soon.”
Casey snorts. “Sure, as soon as Marge lets him get a word in edgewise. Serves him right for insisting on paying for our meal. I tried slipping Marge some cash, but Shep threatened to withhold his ma’s lemon meringue recipe that she’s been after for years.”
I giggle. “What did Marge do?”
“Told me my money was no good at the diner,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically.
“Shep’s never been one to play fair. When he wants something, he doesn’t quit until he gets it.
” He tucks a few twenties back into his wallet.
“It’s really good seeing him act like his old self again.
He hasn’t been this happy in ages, and it’s all thanks to you. ”
“He makes me happy, too,” I say with a smile.
More than I can say.
“How long are you going to be in town?” Amy asks tentatively, her expression apologetic.
“As of now, the day after Christmas?” The statement comes out more like a question, but it’s all I can manage.
Casey cocks his head. “You say it like you’re not sure.”
I shrug. “Guess I’m still figuring out what comes next.”
Amy puts her hand on Casey’s arm. “Alright, let’s leave the poor girl alone. We’d better head out so we can finish our last-minute shopping.”
I sigh in relief. If I had the answers, I’d gladly share them, but as it stands, it’s unclear what the future holds for us.
“It was so nice to meet you,” I say to Amy. “And it was good to see you again, too, Casey.”
“Same here. Take it from me. Shep is crazy about you. If the feeling’s mutual, I think it’s going to work out just fine.”
His confidence softens the uncertainty I can’t shake.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Casey says, tipping his hat.
They wave goodbye, and as they disappear around the corner toward the bustling town center, my phone buzzes with a new notification.
I must have forgotten to turn on Do Not Disturb before we left the cabin this morning.
I’ve made a point of avoiding distractions so I can soak up every minute with Shep.
My stomach drops when I see it’s a new email from CoreFuel Labs.
They’re ending our partnership once the contract expires at the end of the year, citing my “failure to meet obligations.” I scroll furiously, reading about how they appreciate the working relationship we’ve shared over the past few years, but want to put their marketing dollars into “more reliable, performance-driven partnerships.” They expressed disappointment over the last-minute notice that I’d be taking more time off from posting podcast videos than my team originally indicated, even though I explained it was due to circumstances beyond my control.
I shouldn’t be surprised—they’ve been our most demanding sponsor from the start, always pushing me to do more than is reasonable. Even though I know taking some much-needed time off was the right choice, I can’t shake the disappointment.
I’m pacing back and forth, fidgeting with my hands, when Shep steps out of the diner. He furrows his brow, immediately picking up on my unease.
“Noelle, what’s wrong?” He nestles me into his side, guiding us away from the window and toward an outdoor heater by the diner’s entrance.
I’m grateful no one else is out here, not wanting an audience as I process this news.
“Remember the podcast sponsor I was telling you about who was unhappy with my recent posting schedule?”
I filled Shep in on the situation earlier when he sensed I was stressed. It’s incredible how attuned he is, picking up on the smallest shifts in my mood.
He steps in front of me, pulling me into a hug. “Yeah.”
“They’ve decided to discontinue our partnership,” I say into his chest, his coat brushing against my cheek.
He grunts his disapproval as he rubs soothing circles on my back. “That’s pretty shitty to do on Christmas Eve.”
I take a deep breath as I sink further into his embrace. “That’s corporations for you—no loyalty or leeway if they think it could hurt their bottom line.”
I’m guessing they didn’t hit their Q4 projections, so management scrambled to find places to cut the budget. I was likely an easy target, since they’re apparently unsatisfied with our partnership even though it was profitable for them.