Chapter 16
By Your Side
Noah
I lay still, watching Jules sleep in my childhood bedroom, not that any part of this room showed a hint to the memory of the child who grew up here.
It looked like a room that a decorator had likely come in to erase any trace of my existence shortly after I left for college, not that there had been much in the way of my possessions anyway.
What I could say for the space was that it was comfortable and allowed me to get my thoughts together, not that I slept much.
Was that due to everything swirling in my brain or the sleeping beauty next to me? It was impossible to tell.
Last night I’d asked Jules to sleep in my room and immediately wanted to take it back.
Not that I hadn’t meant it. The reality had been that I knew I didn’t want to be alone.
But Jesus, the woman had known me for just over a week.
Who did I think I was to ask for more than she was already giving me?
I felt unbelievably selfish. I didn’t know what Jules was typically like as a friend, but she seemed to be kind on a level I hadn’t experienced.
She’d uprooted her entire life for the next few days to make sure I wasn’t alone.
That wasn’t something I’d forget. And while I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep, it had been comforting to have her next to me, her light snore reminding me that I wasn’t here by myself.
I moved as slowly as possible to the edge of the bed, not wanting to disturb Jules’s sleep but needing to see what was what in the light of day.
My mind jumped from work items I needed to deal with to talking to the lawyer—did Mr. James say his name was Barry?
And Jesus, the memory of Jules’s face upon meeting the Jameses.
I hadn’t met her parents, but Ivy’s and mine were typical for their crowd, though anything but typical for the folks I’d met in Highland Falls.
In some way it was reassuring to see her reaction.
It confirmed for me that they were just as bad as I’d imagined.
In other ways I was almost ashamed, like it reflected on me how Ivy’s parents and mine had always behaved.
Of course that made no sense, but it was there.
Sighing, I continued down the hall to the kitchen.
At least I could get coffee started and potentially some breakfast. I came up short when I saw an older woman bustling around the kitchen, then sighed with relief as I realized it was Mary.
While my parents had a revolving door of staff over the years, Mary had been here since I was small.
She was old enough to be my grandmother and had cooked and cared for me far more than either my mother or father ever had.
And then I realized she didn’t know. Damn. I hadn’t counted on having to tell her.
I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t startle her, and Mary turned, surely expecting one of my parents, but her face absolutely lit up when she saw me.
“Oh, Noah.” She rushed forward, folding me into her arms. I immediately relaxed into her embrace, remembering when she’d surrounded me as a kid. Now I towered over her. “Your mother didn’t tell me you were coming.”
I kept my eyes closed for just a moment, selfishly soaking in this feeling, which felt a whole lot like love. Mary’s scent was always sweet, like she’d just baked cookies, combined with a light floral smell. It was the background of the majority of my happy memories in this house.
Taking a fortifying breath, I stepped back and looked down at her. “I have bad news, Mary.”
She stiffened a bit and nodded. As I began to fill her in, one of her weathered hands reached out for mine.
Was she getting strength from me or giving me some because she sensed I needed it?
I had a feeling it was the latter. When I finished telling her all that I knew, she blotted her eyes, then seemed to take stock of what was needed.
“I don’t what the will says yet, Mary,” I shared. “And I have no idea how many folks my parents were employing now. While I’m sure I am not getting anything from them, I hope they’ve provided for you all, and if I have any say, I will ensure it.”
“Oh, Noah,” Mary said, “you don’t think they’ve left you everything?”
I gave an incredulous laugh. “They didn’t hesitate to cut me off when they were alive, I cannot imagine they’d want me to benefit from their deaths—which is just fine with me.”
She shook her head but didn’t say anything, which was nothing new. I knew Mary didn’t approve of my parents’ behavior when I was younger, but she never said a word against them. “Okay, let’s think. What needs to be done? I can help you.”
I put up a hand. “Oh no, I’d never ask you to do that.”
She shook her head, dismissing my protests in one smooth move.
“Shush, you. I know this household like the back of my hand. I also know where your mother keeps everything. It will be faster for you if I help. And the first thing you need is Barry Foley. He’s your parents’ lawyer, and his number is in your mother’s book.
Once he comes and looks over all their paperwork for you, you can get started with whatever needs to come next.
” She moved off to my mother’s study, presumably to get her book.
I pulled out a mug and poured myself some coffee.
It had been, what, almost two years since I last saw Mary?
She had to be in her late sixties now, but she’d looked essentially the same since I was small.
Her short stature and roundness had always given me comfort.
We kept in touch through monthly letters when I left for college and hadn’t ever stopped.
Mary wasn’t a fan of technology, so pen pals was the option I was left with.
I’d stopped in Madison when I came back from Africa, checking to see if my parents would want to be part of my life now that I was back.
I thought I knew what their response would be but wanted to give them a chance.
Why, I had no idea. I think most of my life had been spent hoping against hope that they’d become what they were not—loving parents who wanted the best for me.
I had still been let down—my original instinct was correct.
They’d declared they weren’t supporting me since I was “insane” enough to stay in this “charity work” instead of making real money at my dad’s firm.
Their words, not mine. Trying to explain to them that I didn’t want their money, didn’t need it, was fruitless.
I just wanted them to care about what I was doing, to be part of my life.
To them, money equaled their “love.” I’d been crushed—it had felt like a final nail in the coffin.
Not a great way to put it now, but there you go.
But Mary had understood my broken heart and had sent me off to Highland Falls with my favorite brownies of hers and a hug to tide me over until her letters began again, closer to home now, to remind me that someone was proud of me even if my parents weren’t.
What would she do now that my parents were gone? Did she have enough money set aside to retire? I hated the idea of her working some job she didn’t enjoy.
Hearing someone enter the kitchen, I looked up, assuming it was Mary, only to see Jules with a tentative look on her face.
“Hey,” she said with a sleep-softened voice.
I could tell she wasn’t sure of her surroundings.
To be fair, even though this was my childhood “home,” neither was I.
It certainly wasn’t the type of place that made you want to sit down and relax.
Instead, it inspired you to sit up with your best posture and mind your manners.
Jules’s dark hair was tumbling over her shoulders in waves.
Her “pajamas” consisted of black leggings and a crazy-big graphic tee.
Reading it, I bit back a smile. It said Read romance, fight the patriarchy.
Her feet were bare with dark polish on her toes.
That seemed to be an intimate detail I shouldn’t know, but then again, we’d slept in the same bed. Heavy emphasis on slept.
“Hey, did you get enough sleep?” I immediately moved to grab a coffee mug for her. I held it up, wordlessly asking if she wanted some.
“Sure,” she said, reaching for it, but I stepped around her to fill it up. I felt an inherent desire to take care of this woman, foreign to anything I’d experienced before.
“Let me,” I murmured as I grabbed the pot. “We don’t have the makings of a vanilla latte here.” I thought of her order at the Sanctuary. “But there’s creamer and sugar.”
I turned to pass her the filled mug to find her staring at me in wonder. “You remembered my order?”
“Sure,” I replied, not certain why that would make her eyes well up, but I’d take it.
Instead, she shook her head like waking from a dream, took her coffee, and put it on the counter to my side.
Then, with uncertainty positively pouring off her, she stepped to face me and slid her arms around my waist. I had to admit, just holding her made me breathe easier.
I relaxed into her embrace, sliding my arms around her as well.
“What is this for?” I murmured to the crown of her head.
She squeezed her arms around me, then spoke into my chest. “You lost your parents.”
I shook my head at her kindness, frankly more than they deserved to have directed their way.
That sounded terrible, but it was the reality I’d long accepted.
Likely I needed to look up a therapist and process some of this shit, but for the most part I felt okay with my mental state.
Whether that would hold true as I processed, who knew.
“Jules, you are beyond kind, but I’m doing all right. I promise. Sad, sure, but as I said, at least this wasn’t them choosing to separate themselves from me. In many ways, that was harder.” I stepped back and looked down at her, tipping her chin up so she’d meet my gaze.
Her warm brown eyes met mine. “I feel like you have more to process here.”