Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALLIE
I have zero game. None. Nada. Zilch. I’m sure Noah is only being nice by asking me to have supper with him. I’m equally certain he isn’t interested in me in a romantic sense. So why do I feel the need to keep telling him I won’t date him?
He must either think I have a real ego problem, or that I’m a couple slices short of a full loaf.
Even so, I would have given my right arm and several toes for him to talk to me when we were in high school.
Any time spent in his company back then made me feel like the luckiest girl alive.
Even when he was ignoring me, there was just something about the sight of him that made me grateful to have eyes.
I dated two guys in college before I met Brett.
The whole time I was with them, I compared them to Noah.
Probably because they both kind of looked like him without being quite as luminous.
They were both over six feet, with dark wavy hair and blue eyes.
They were both athletic and fit. Even though they had charisma, neither could hold a candle to Noah Riley.
Which is probably the reason I stopped seeing them.
Brett came along in my senior year. He was nothing like Noah. He was much shorter, his hair was lighter, and his eyes were brown. Brett wasn’t exactly athletic, although he always bragged he was a great ping pong player—insert eye roll here.
I wasn’t dazzled by him so much as I was relieved to finally like a guy I couldn’t compare to my childhood heartthrob. Also, by then, Noah had finally moved out of the forefront of my brain and secured himself a place as a fond memory. Actually, less fond than painful, but still.
I can’t believe that all these years later he’s back in my life. Not only that, but we work at the same place and we co-coach basketball together. What are the chances?
My day moves along quickly, which is nice.
My classes all seem to be settling into the rhythm of having a new teacher, and I’m equally comfortable with them.
I was nervous when I took the job that the constant presence of kids would be a painful reminder of my fertility situation but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
By the time children reach high school they’re on the verge of adulthood. They are so far removed from babyhood I don’t feel even a ping of sadness around them. Instead, I feel excited for them. I have a real desire to help them in any way I can as they make thier leap into adulthood.
When the last bell of the day rings, I pile up the papers on my desk before heading in the direction of the gym. Leah Flynn catches up to me in the hallway. “Miss Rogers,” she says. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I stop walking and turn toward her. She looks a little sad today and is missing some of the spark I’ve begun to associate with her. “Of course. What’s going on?”
“I was wondering if it might be okay if I skipped practice today.” Her eyes shift nervously from side to side.
Leah is so dedicated to her sport, she’s the last person I would think would want to miss practice. “Are you sick?” Her head swivels from side to side. “Do you have a big test to study for?”
“No.” She doesn’t offer anything else.
“What’s up, Leah?” I don’t want to intrude in whatever is going on with her, but I can’t help but feel like she may need someone to talk to.
“I can’t tell you,” she says. “I mean, it’s not my business to share.”
“Are you skipping to help a friend?” I guess.
“I am.”
Putting my arm around her shoulder, I tell her, “Go ahead and go. But you’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
“You bet I will!” She forces a smile before adding, “Thanks, Miss Rogers. I appreciate it and I promise that if this weren’t really important, I wouldn’t be asking.”
As Leah runs off, I remember the amount of drama associated with being her age.
Her friend’s problem could be nothing bigger than finding out someone is gossiping about her, but kids feel things hard.
Probably because they haven’t been beaten down enough yet to realize how commonplace that experience can be.
During practice, I spend a lot of time trying to avoid Noah. Instead of scrimmaging this afternoon, we run the kids through a series of shooting drills. Luckily, this keeps us at hoops across the court from each other.
While teaching the girls the finer points of a reverse layup, I can’t help but glance across the gym.
Noah is working on passing drills, and he’s shouting, “Go to the ball, don’t wait for it to come to you!
” To illustrate his point, he intercepts any number of passes where the receiver doesn’t move quickly enough.
Meanwhile, I continue on to rebounds. “Do not stop to dribble when you rebound,” I tell my team. “Just grab the ball and shoot it before anyone can stop you.”
“But what if you don’t have a good shot?” Peyton wants to know.
“Then bounce pass it out of the post,” I tell her. “But do it fast.”
“Why a bounce pass?” someone else asks.
“Because on a rebound everyone is expecting you to shoot so they’re looking up, not down.”
The girls work hard on rebounds, but it’s clearly not their strong suit. At five forty-five, I tell them, “I’m meeting my parents for supper tonight, so I’m going to head out. You can do the same or stay as long as Coach Riley is here.”
I don’t even bother waving to Noah before I leave. I just book it out of there as fast as my feet will carry me.
Once I’m in my car, I turn the heater up and lean my head against the headrest. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths.
Noah wants to be my friend. He’s not hitting on me.
I should be thrilled by this, but somehow I’m not.
If it had been longer since my breakup, and I was ready to date, he would certainly be my first choice.
Except, I remind myself, he wants kids and I can’t give him those.
It's not like I think he wants to marry me and start a family, but once you hit your late twenties, you need to be pragmatic about who you date. You can’t let yourself get involved with someone whose life is on a different trajectory from yours.
Of course, we aren’t dating. We are only friends. Do you hear that, Allie? You and Noah are friends. Nothing more.
Shifting into reverse, I make quick work of driving to my parents’ house. As I pull into the driveway, I realize that it feels like weeks since I’ve been here, not days.
I walk through the front door to find all the lights are off. Flipping on all the switches nearby, the area illuminates, and I call out, “Hello? Where is everyone?”
When there’s no answer, I walk into the kitchen and out the door that leads to the garage. Both of their cars are gone. What in the world?
Going back inside, I open the refrigerator door and take out a cold can of pop. I crack the top open and take a sip, wondering if I somehow got the day wrong. Then I walk back into the living room where I sit on the sofa for twenty minutes before texting our group thread.
Me:
Where are you? I thought we were having dinner tonight?
I wait for thirty minutes, and when they don’t show, I leave them a note.
I thought we were meeting for supper tonight. I have plans tomorrow night, but let me know when you want to reschedule.
Allie
I can’t help but feel annoyed as I go back out to my car.
First of all, how is it my parents haven’t figured out I don’t live with them anymore?
You’d think they would have called me on that days ago.
But to stand me up for dinner? That’s just rude.
I may not have had much of a life since moving back to Elk Lake, but I did start a new job.
They should at least be interested in hearing about that.
Turning down Main Street, I spot my mom and dad walking arm in arm laughing at something.
I’m tempted to roll down my window and demand to know why they stood me up, but I don’t want to let them off the hook just yet.
I want them to get home and feel terrible for blowing me off.
Then I want them to wonder where I am. I know this is juvenile, but that’s apparently where I’m at.
I park in front of Rosemary’s before heading inside.
It’s still early, so I toy with the idea of texting Noah to see if he still wants to meet for supper tonight.
But I could use an early night. I’m not adjusting to being alone in an apartment as quickly as I would like.
As such, my sleep hasn’t been very deep.
At the bottom of the stairs, I notice several packages have been delivered. I had wondered how deliveries would work since there’s an outside lock. I assume Faith must have put them there.
It takes me several trips up to my apartment before all the boxes are moved. Once inside, I begin opening them. Even though I can guess what’s inside of them, I still feel like a kid on Christmas morning. When I open them, I discover seven lamps. Each cuter than the next.
While I don’t need seven lamps, I’m going to keep them all.
My favorites are a set of two oil-bronzed bedside table lamps that are shaped like monkeys.
One has its hand over its mouth the other has its hands covering its ears.
They represent my favorite saying, “Hear no evil, speak no evil.” Or in other words, don’t listen to gossip and don’t be a gossip.
Which is a good rule for everyone to live by.
While putting my new purchases together, I flip on Netflix in search of something good to watch.
Scanning the offerings, I decide October is the perfect month to rewatch Gilmore Girls.
After all, Elk Lake is a lot like Stars Hollow in its small town, more-charm-than-can-be-believed-in-real-life setting.
Also, my best friend is named Lorelai and she’s dating a guy named Luke. How perfect is that?
Once I’m done assembling the lamps, I turn them on and appreciate their respective glows. There’s so much light emanating from them that there’s no way I’ll miss something lurking in the shadows now.
My new life’s motto apparently is, if there are no shadows, nothing can surprise you. Now, if only that were true.