27. twenty-seven
twenty-seven
Nora
“Mama!” Ollie says, his mouth dropping into an O . “You look pretty.” He draws out the last word, and I want to squeeze him to pieces. He’s got the sweetness dialed up to eleven today, and I’m not complaining about it.
“Thank you, honey,” I say, applying a second layer of red lipstick before inspecting my work in the mirror. “Do you like my lipstick?”
Another nod. He starts reaching for the tube. “I help you?”
“You’re so sweet. I’m already done! Let’s go get our shoes on.”
I finish tying one of Ollie’s shoes when a knock sounds at the door. Ollie gasps, and we look at each other in excitement.
“I get it!” he says, scrambling to his feet. I let him attempt to open the door by himself, and he struggles with the knob for a minute before I step in.
Ollie barrels into Brooks as soon as the door swings open. Brooks looks me up and down appreciatively, mouthing the word wow .
“How’s my little dude?” Brooks asks, shifting Ollie into his arms so he can look at him. He lets out a theatrical gasp. “Wait a second…Nora. We’ve got a problem.”
“What is it?” I ask, playing along as I slip on my boots in the entryway.
“This isn’t Ollie,” Brooks says teasingly. “This right here is our Thanksgiving turkey.”
“No, it’s not!” Ollie cries.
“It must have escaped. We’ve got to get it over to your parents’ house or Thanksgiving will be ruined!”
Ollie shrieks as Brooks tickles him, insisting that there’s been a mistake, and he is not, in fact, a turkey.
“I’m Ollie!” he giggles.
“I don’t know, Brooks,” I say. “I think you might be right. Look at the legs he’s got on him.”
“Those are turkey legs, alright,” Brooks agrees. He shifts Ollie to one side and gathers me close, nuzzling me just below my ear. “It’s a good thing Ollie is here because, if he wasn’t, I would be taking you right back inside your house to order takeout just so I could have you all to myself.”
I laugh as he skates his fingertips across my low back. He drops a soft kiss to my cheek.
“You look beautiful.”
“So do you,” I say, and he does. This deep green crewneck sweater situation he’s got going on is working. I grab my sweet potato casserole from the entryway table and move to close and lock the front door. “Let me grab Ollie’s car seat out of my car,” I say.
“No need,” Brooks says, chasing after Ollie as he darts down the porch steps.
I glance at Brooks in confusion. He doesn’t offer an explanation, just opens the back door and hoists Ollie inside his Tesla…into a brand-new car seat.
I slowly approach the car and watch as Brooks buckles Ollie into the car seat like he’s done it a thousand times before.
“Got you a new seat so you can ride with me even if your mom isn’t around,” Brooks says, shooting a grin at me over his shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah!” Ollie says enthusiastically. He looks up at me from inside the car. “You like it, Mama?”
My eyes burn as tears threaten to fall, and I blink quickly, determined not to ruin the makeup I’d spent a little extra time on. “I love it. That is the coolest car seat I’ve ever seen.”
Brooks shuts the car door and turns to face me. I spring myself at him, and he catches me with a wumph .
“Thank you,” I say, lifting my chin above his shoulder so I don’t accidentally get lipstick on his sweater. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Just trying to take care of my people,” he says, his hands splaying across my back as he draws me in tighter.
“How did you know what kind of car seat to get?”
“I have a couple teammates who have kids Ollie’s age. They helped me choose a good one. Hopefully,” he says with a nervous laugh.
I pull away and trace his clean-shaven jawline with my fingertips. He brushes his lips over mine, and my eyes flutter closed. He smells so good. I’ll take three courses of Brooks Alden over Thanksgiving fare any day.
We arrive at my parents’ house about ten minutes later, and I try to prepare Brooks for the events of the evening.
“Everybody’s going to want to talk to you,” I say. “Well, except for Trent. He’s pretty much anti-social. They’re going to ask you a lot of questions.”
“I’m not worried about it, Nora,” he says, flashing me a confident smile.
“Well, I am!” I say. “We should have some kind of signal we can flash to each other if you’re feeling overwhelmed or need me to rescue you.”
“I’m not sure flashing each other would be appropriate at a family function, but I’m not opposed to it.”
“Stop it,” I say, smacking his chest with the back of my hand. “How about you give me one of your baseball signals?”
“Baseball…signals.”
“Yeah, like something you do with your teammates or the pitcher or whatever.”
“I need to educate you. Badly.”
“Come on! I’m trying to help you!”
“I’m going to be fine, Nora,” he says, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before reaching for the door handle. “I can handle your family. What you should be worried about is me trapping you in a well-lit corner of your parents’ house and kissing you in front of everyone. Your lips look…mmm.”
I level him with a look. “Don’t even try it.”
His dancing blue eyes and confident smirk say he just might.
“I’ve got something to tell you,” I say. Brooks looks over at me expectantly. “Nate texted me this morning.”
Brooks’ face darkens, and it shouldn’t make me happy to see him immediately bristle at the mention of Nate, but it does. I like that he’s in my corner now. “What did he say?”
“His wife is pregnant,” I say. I’d initially felt angry when I’d learned that Nate was going to be a father for a second time after essentially abandoning me and Ollie. But then I’d read the rest of his text. “He asked if we could meet to discuss our custody agreement. He feels he needs to focus on Heidi and the baby on the way and thought we could adjust things now that you’re in the picture.”
“Wait,” Brooks says with a disbelieving grin. “He’s trying to use me to get out of playing an active role in Ollie’s life?”
“Pretty much.”
“What a tool,” he says. “But you know what? I say let him use me. Let’s keep Ollie all to ourselves.”
I snuggle up to him and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a perfect, red imprint of my lips on his face. I’m not even going to bother to wipe it off.
My prediction proves to be correct. We are smothered from the moment we enter the house, starting with my dad, bless him, who has the undivided attention of his favorite local baseball player. Brooks is gracious and sweet with my dad, sitting next to him on the couch and chatting easily while I help my mom and sisters finish things up in the kitchen. Ollie is climbing all over Trent and Javier, who are putting together a complex puzzle in the living room.
“So,” Sydney says, putting the finishing touches on her green bean casserole. “What happened after the holiday market last weekend? Did you guys work things out?”
“I’d say so,” Bridget says before I can answer, jutting her chin towards Brooks. “He keeps looking over here every five seconds. He can’t get enough of you.”
“Shut up,” I hiss, but inwardly, my heart is leaping. “Yes, we had some really good conversations. I think we’re both on the same page.”
“And what page is that?” Mom asks. “Is he going to propose tonight?
My heart stumbles. What if he did? Am I certifiably insane? Because I think if he asked me tonight, I would say yes .
Who am I? Gone is the hesitant, fearful version of Nora. Somehow, I’m not scared about a future with Brooks anymore. I’ve got a cloud of balloons tied to my wrist, pulling me up and onward with him by my side.
“You really like him, don’t you?” Mom says, and I nod.
“I do. I want to make things work with him this time around. I’m going to take weekends off so I can be with him in Seattle.”
“My neck of the woods!” Bridget says. “With or without Ollie?”
“Well,” I say, feeling elated at the news I get to share with my family. “Nate’s wife is pregnant, so he wants to grant me full custody of Ollie so he can focus on her and the baby.”
“ What ?” Sydney gasps. “Oooh, I’m so happy for you, but at the same time, I want to give that man a swirly in the nearest toilet!”
My mom and sisters gather around me in eager excitement, hugging me in turn. For the first time in forever, I can take a full, deep breath without it getting stuck in my lungs. There’s no hitch, no fearful squeezing in my chest. Things are working out, and I’m filled with a deep sense of gratitude and relief.
“So, what about your job?” Mom asks.
I fidget with the edge of the tea towel hanging from the oven. “That’s something Brooks and I have been talking about a lot. I don’t want him to be my sugar daddy,” I say with a laugh. “Though he’s very sweet and offered to support me and Ollie financially. As a compromise, I’ve agreed to let him help me with Noli. The business side of things.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Sydney says, growing weepy. “We’re here to help you with anything you need.”
I look between the women who have anchored me through the ups and downs of the past few years, then over at the men taking care of my son. They are everything to me.
A random timer starts beeping, and the kitchen becomes a flurry as we work together to get the table set for dinner. Sydney made hand-written place settings for each member of the family. There’s a lively shuffle as we all locate our assigned seats around the table. I’m squashed between Brooks and Trent, and Mom insists that Ollie be seated in a highchair next to her so I can enjoy my meal. She gives me a wink, and I don’t fight her on it.
Brooks takes my hand in his as we bow our heads while Dad prays over our meal, and I lean into his touch. I’m so glad he’s here.
“Thank you for having me,” Brooks says to my mom over the clang of serving utensils and murmured conversations. “I’m not much of a cook, or I would have offered to contribute something.”
“You did contribute,” I remind him, and a crooked smile tucks his cheek. “A certain someone found my marshmallow stash in the pantry.” I look pointedly at Ollie. “And I didn’t discover it until after he was already asleep. Brooks saved the day and had some delivered to my house last night.” He’d also included a pint of ice cream for me. I’ve never sprung for grocery delivery because the fees are so ridiculous, but when I’d jokingly told Brooks that the sweet potatoes would have to be served sans mallows, he took matters into his own hands. It warmed me right through when those groceries showed up at my front door.
“Glad to be of service,” he says with a smile.
“I would have still eaten them,” Trent reassures me, taking a hefty helping for himself when the sweet potatoes make their way around.
I can’t remember the last holiday I’d enjoyed as much as this one. My fingertips itch to be constantly clasped in Brooks’, and I notice every press of his knee against mine under the table, every glance he spares in my direction. I want him by my side at every family gathering for the rest of my life. He’s part of my family now.
He has groceries delivered to my house. He buys a car seat so my son can safely ride in his car, should the need arise. He asks thoughtful and engaging questions to each member of my family, genuinely interested in getting to know them.
For a while, I thought my entire heart would forever belong only to Ollie, but it’s expanding like the Grinch’s to accommodate Brooks. There’s plenty of space for both of them.
The night passes with laughter and warmth, the draining and filling of glasses, and the telling of stories meant to entertain. I feel a deep appreciation for my family and for the love that has always filled our home. Brooks didn’t always have that when he was growing up, and I’m desperate for him to taste it now.
The men take care of the dishes before joining the rest of us in the living room. Sydney and Brooks start chatting about photography, and I watch as Brooks’ eyes light up with interest.
“I shoot portraits with a fifty-millimeter lens, and then if I’m shooting a landscape or a city, I use a wide-angle lens,” she explains, flipping through some photos she’s taken on her phone.
“Can you send me some links?” Brooks asks her. “I think I want to buy a camera.”
I knew he’d enjoyed our night spent shooting photos with Sydney, but I didn’t realize he’d loved it that much. The thought of him finding an interest he wants to pursue outside of his chosen sport warms my heart.
“Absolutely!” Sydney replies, and I’m grateful for her enthusiasm. I know she’ll set him up with everything he might need. “You’ll have to let me know if you really do end up buying one. I can give you a crash course anytime.”
I sidle up between Javier and Trent who are still hard at work on the puzzle, gazing down at the scene they’re slowly piecing together.
“Venice?” I venture.
Javier nods. “Sydney chose it.”
“Obviously,” I say with a smile. “Trent’s favorite place in the world.”
Trent snorts, hunched over the table with a frown in place. He’s as content as anybody else, but you’d never know it by the somber expression he usually wears. “I’m never going back there.”
“What was it that ruined it for you again? The pickpocket or the pasta that gave you raging dia–”
“Sydney will try to sell you on Venice,” Trent interrupts, addressing Brooks. “Don’t listen to a word she says.”
“Listen,” she says defensively. “We had some unfortunate moments in Venice, but it is still one of the most magical cities in the world, in my opinion.”
“Do you guys travel a lot?” Brooks asks.
“It’s her hobby,” Trent says, leaning back in his chair.
“More like passion,” Sydney amends.
“So yes,” Trent says. “We travel quite a bit.”
“Where are you off to next?” Brooks asks.
“You will not believe where I convinced Trent to take me next year.”
We all wait for the big reveal. Trent looks less than enthused as Sydney shouts, “Iceland!”
“Iceland,” Trent repeats flatly.
“Trust me,” Sydney says, planting a kiss on her husband’s bearded cheek. “You’re going to love it. You guys wanna tag along?” Sydney asks, just like she always has. She’s never given up on me even though I’ve never agreed to accompany her on one of her countless trips abroad.
“Maybe one day,” I say. “I should probably fly somewhere domestic first.”
“She’s never flown before,” Sydney says to Brooks. “Can you believe that?”
Brooks looks at me in shock. “What? Never?”
I shake my head. I look like the most boring person on the planet compared to my well-traveled sister. She made a career out of traveling while I got really good at memorizing orders at the diner.
“Well, we might have to change that,” Brooks says with a grin.
“Don’t you move with the team to Florida soon?” Javier asks.
“Yeah,” Brooks says. “In February.”
“Spring training?” Trent asks, and Brooks nods.
We’d discussed this the other night. Bless all of the women who date and marry professional baseball players. They never stay in one place too long during the season.
Ollie clambers onto Brooks’ lap so he can tell him all about Florida. Brooks keeps glancing my way, and I can tell something’s brewing in that mind of his. It's not until he drops me off at home at the end of the night that I find out what it is.
“I like the thought of you being with me in Florida,” he says, drawing me to him for a kiss across the console. Ollie fell asleep on the ten-minute drive home, zonked out in the back seat.
“You do?” I say, tilting my head to find his mouth again.
“Palm trees…you and me. A little baseball during the day, time together at night,” he says with a teasing nip at my lower lip.
“Sign me up,” I say. I need no more convincing. I’m terrified of hopping on that flight, but I’ll do it if it means we get to be together during those months he’ll be living on the opposite coast.
“Do you think you’d be able to take work off?” he asks.
“Send me the dates you’d want me to be there, and I can start looking into it.”
“I think Ollie would love it.”
He would, and so would I. I couldn’t bear to be that far from Ollie, even if it was for a few days. But the thought of paying for flights and a hotel for both of us is already making me queasy, and I haven’t even done any research yet to see how much it’s going to cost me.
“I think he would, too. If I do a few more markets, I think I could save up enough money to buy our flights.”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Brooks says. “You’re a sweepstakes winner.”
“A sweepstakes winner?” I whisper, stifling a giggle so I don’t wake Ollie. “I’ve never been a sweepstakes winner before. What did I win?”
“An all-expenses paid trip to Florida during spring training.”
I thumb Brooks’ jawline affectionately. “That’s very sweet of you, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Just try and stop me,” Brooks says, his eyes determined. “But we’ve still got a couple months together before I leave for spring training. What on earth are we going to do with all that time?”
“We’ll have more Fridays,” I whisper. “More rollerblading. More brookies–.”
“More night swims?” he ventures and then laughs at my scowl.
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “Maybe more kissing?”
“I can give you that,” Brooks says, pressing a soft, warm kiss to the corner of my mouth.
There’s a sweet reassurance in his kiss, and I plan to savor every day we have left together before he leaves again. The idea doesn’t terrify me like it used to because I know that this time, he’ll always come back to me.