Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
LORELAI
I’ve spent the last week tying up all the house details. I’ve recovered the sofa with a canvas slipcover. I’ve reupholstered the dining room chairs with my handy-dandy staple gun, and I’ve purchased some new towels to hang in the bathrooms. When I was a kid, my mom used to call them “company towels,” which essentially meant they were never to be used. In fact, the company towels from my childhood are still in the linen cabinet, and they’re in the best shape of any of them. The only reason I bought new ones is because the colors are kind of dated.
My parents are coming home today, and I can’t wait to show them the transformation of their home. I expect they’ll not only be shocked but also excited by how much more money they’re going to get because of all the upgrades.
At 1:15 on the nose, my mom texts that they’ve left the airport, and they should be home in forty-five minutes. I offered to pick them up, but she assured me that she and my dad are fine taking an Uber.
I hurry to take a shower and change into something nice before they arrive. I’ve even made a plate of sandwiches and some cookies that I baked from store-bought cookie dough. Which are perfectly edible even though my mom claims you can taste the chemicals. She and Luke have a lot in common.
On my way downstairs, I actually jump when I hear the doorbell ring. I’m surprised my parents got here so quickly, because according to the Uber app, they’re still twenty minutes away.
Opening the door, I stand there in shock. “Noah, what are you doing here?”
My brother pushes through the front door and drops a large duffle bag at my feet. “Are Mom and Dad here yet?”
“They should be here any minute,” I tell him.
Walking into the living room, he says, “Then I’ll tell you all at the same time. It’s not a tale I care to repeat.”
I have no idea what’s going on, but I can tell it’s not going to be a good story. “You want some lunch?” I ask him.
We walk toward the kitchen, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that the wall between the living room and dining room has been removed. He doesn’t even comment on the paint job in the kitchen. He merely asks, “You got any salami?”
“Open your eyes, Noah,” I tell him.
He looks from his left to his right before answering, “My eyes are open.”
“Do you notice anything different?”
Shrugging, he asks, “Did you clean? It looks clean.”
“Yes, I cleaned,” I grumble. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
He sits at the kitchen table and slumps to the point where he’s almost lying on it. “I’m tired, Lorelai. I’ve had a hard day. Heck, I’ve had a brutal week. I’m not in the mood to play guessing games.”
He does seem particularly gruff, even for Noah, so I decide to let it go for now. “You want cheese on your sandwich?” He nods his head, so I open the refrigerator and get out the fixings. Then I build his sandwich the way I know he prefers. He likes three slices of bread, three slices of cheese, and enough salami that I don’t know how he’s going to bite through it all. Then there’s lettuce and grain mustard. Putting it on a plate, I hand it over to him.
“How about chips?” he wants to know.
The only reason I don’t pick up the bag and throw it at him is because he really seems out of sorts. So instead of resorting to violence, I merely open the bag, take out a handful, and add it to his plate. I watch as he eats in silence.
The next thing I know, I hear the front door open and my mom yell, “We’re home, honey!”
My dad follows that up with, “This isn’t our house! Where’s the wall?”
Noah looks up from his lunch and says, “I knew something looked different.”
Hurrying into the living room, I give both of my parents a big hug. Then I state the obvious, “I had the wall knocked down.”
My dad looks like he’s about to succumb to a heart attack, but my mom merely beams from ear to ear. “I love it!” she declares with feeling. “I mean, wow! It looks so much bigger in here.”
“How much did it cost?” This from my dad.
I smile at him and in dulcet tones meant to soothe, I say, “Anna said you’ll make back three times the cost, minimum. People want an open floor plan these days.”
His expression transforms into a radiant smile, “I love it!”
“You should know that Noah is home,” I tell them. “He’s in the kitchen.”
My mom nods her head. “He called and said he had something to tell us.” She walks toward the back of the house and announces, “The kitchen is gorgeous!”
My dad and I quickly follow behind and my dad needs to know, “How much did this cost?”
“Three times the return in here, too.”
“I love it!” he declares for the second time in as many minutes.
Noah looks up from his plate. “Hey.”
“Hay is for horses,” my dad tells him before nearly picking him up by the scruff of the neck for a hug. Once my dad’s done, he hands over his son so my mom can have a turn.
“Honey,” my mom tells him. “You look like crap.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He disengages himself from her embrace before sitting back down. “I guess I might as well tell you all now.”
“Tell us what?” I want to know. He clearly didn’t get a personality transplant because he’s as grumpy as ever.
“I lost my job,” he says.
“You what?” My mom’s in as much shock as any of us.
“I thought you were taking the team to first place this year. How did you lose your job?” my dad wants to know.
Noah exhales like he’s blowing out birthday candles from across the room. “The school hired Holland Frame to be head coach.”
“Really?” My dad suddenly seems very excited. “How did they lure away a past NBA superstar to coach a high school team?”
“Holland’s grandson goes to school there,” Noah says.
My mom makes a cutting motion across her throat. “And just like that, they gave you the boot?”
Noah shakes his head. “They told me I’d be the assistant coach. They demoted me.”
“Did they cut your pay?” my dad wants to know.
“No, but what does that have anything to do with it?” Noah demands.
I interject, “You got demoted but you kept your same salary, so what’s the problem? How did you lose your job?”
“I quit!” my brother practically yells.
“Noah Riley.” It’s my mom’s turn again. “Don’t you dare tell me that you let your pride get in the way of gainful employment.”
My brother bangs his fist on the table like a toddler demanding more Goldfish crackers. “My pride? I’ll tell you about my pride. I single-handedly took that team from twentieth in the state all the way to third in three years. I did that. Holland Frame didn’t.”
“And so, you just walked?” my dad wants to know.
Noah shakes his head. “Not just like that. I told the superintendent that I would stay and allow Holland to be my assistant coach.”
“Oh, dear,” my mother says. “And of course they said no.”
“Why of course?” Noah wants to know.
My dad pipes in with, “The NBA championship thing?”
“I brought the team up,” my brother’s voice raises again. “They are my team, not Holland’s.”
Leave it to my mom to cut to the chase. “So, you quit and came home to stay? That doesn’t make any sense, honey. What could there possibly be for you here in Elk Lake?”
“It is still my home,” he tells them. “At least until you sell it.”
My dad nods his head sagely. “That’s true. It is. But we’re selling soon.”
“There’s something else,” Noah says. All eyes are on him, so he adds, “Elk Lake High School has offered me a head coaching job.”
“Elk Lake?” my mom asks.
My dad finishes her question, “High school?”
“Yes, Elk Lake High School,” he tells them. “You might remember it because your children went there?”
“Their season is over,” I volunteer. I know this because prom came early which means they didn’t even make the playoffs.
“They’ve hired me for next year, but they want me to get going and start training next year’s team.” He smugly adds, “They have high hopes that with enough practice, I’ll do for them what I did for my last school.”
My mom looks very confused. “You’ll only be able to stay until we sell.”
“Unless I buy the house from you,” Noah says.
“You want to buy our house?” You’d think my dad would like this idea more than he seems to .
“Maybe? I mean, why not?”
“What about your place in Chicago?” I ask.
“I can rent it out. I want to keep it for at least another five years before selling.”
My mom makes eye contact with my dad and then motions him toward the living room. She tells me and Noah, “Don’t move. We’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
I have no idea what to say to my brother after they leave, so I tell him, “I’m sorry things aren’t going your way.”
He snorts but doesn’t say anything else.
When my parents come back into the room, my dad looks kind of pale, but my mom seems determined. She addresses me first. “Lorelai, you did a beautiful job with the house.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. I like how her admiration feels.
“Your dad and I always knew you had a wonderful artistic flare, and we thought by letting you get the house ready for sale that you might discover a love of interior design.”
“I have,” I tell her. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about maybe taking some classes.”
“Good,” she says. “You can stay in Noah’s house in Chicago while you decide if you like it.”
“No, she can’t!” my brother shouts. “I need a paying tenant, not a freeloader.”
Nice, Noah, Way to make me like you . But I don’t have a chance to say that because my dad decides to speak up. “You can stay here, Noah.”
“Are you going to sell to me?” he wants to know.
My dad tells him, “We’ll hold off selling the house for a year until you can decide if you want to stay in Elk Lake. If you do, we’ll sell it to you next summer.”
I raise my hand and bring my parents’ attention back to me. “In this scenario, I’ll be staying at Noah’s rent free?”
“You still have to pay the utilities,” my brother snaps. But then he softens and tells our mom and dad, “Thank you. I appreciate the help, because honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to like working here.”
“It’s going to be a big change,” my mom says. “But we believe in our kids so much that we want to do everything we can to help support you.”
This seems to be an about-face from how it felt when they originally announced they were selling. “You told me I needed to get on a career path,” I say. “And the whole time you were trying to lead me to that path?”
“Lorelai,” my dad says. “You just needed a little push, is all.”
“So, you don’t need the proceeds of this house to survive?”
My dad laughs. “Honey, I bought bitcoin when it was only five thousand a coin.”
I didn’t know that. “How many coins did you get?”
“Four,” my mom says proudly.
“And it’s recently gone over a hundred thousand,” Noah inserts. “Which means, you cleaned up!”
“We did pretty well,” my dad agrees.
“That’s amazing,” I tell them. “I appreciate your help more than you will ever know.”
My mom reaches out and takes my hand. Squeezing it, she says, “It’s what being a parent is all about. Plus, you’re worth our investment.”
And just like that, I’m moving to Chicago to go to school, Noah’s coming home, and my parents are going to play golf in Florida. I didn’t see any of these changes coming, but the truth is, I know they’re all for the best.