Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ALLIE
I’m surprised by how much fun Noah and I have tonight.
It’s not that we don’t always get along great, but the more time we spend together, the more I really like him.
Over dinner, he tells me about his life in Chicago, and he sounds almost wistful in his description.
It’s abundantly clear that’s where he sees his future.
“Why in the world didn’t you just find another school to teach at there?” I ask him. “There must be dozens of them who would have wanted you.”
“There probably were,” he says. “But my nose was so far out of joint by being demoted that I wanted to get as far away from my old school as I could. When I heard about the coaching position here, I figured, why not?”
“There’s something about home, isn’t there?” I ask. “I mean, I never wanted to live in Elk Lake again. I was going to bust free and prove that I wasn’t a small-town girl. But look at me—I’m back, too.”
Noah wipes his mouth one last time before putting his napkin aside. “At least you’re in your own place now. I’m still in the house I grew up in.”
“I was with my parents for over a year,” I remind him. “It’s a testimony to how bad a shape I was in that I lasted that long.”
He looks at me with an expression of shock. “You don’t get along with them?”
I don’t want him to have that impression because it’s not the full truth.
“I’m their baby,” I tell him. “Part of them will always see me as a little kid who needs their guidance. And while I don’t mind them weighing in occasionally, my mother has a hard time not grabbing the reins and trying to take over. ”
“What about your dad?” he asks.
“My dad always lets my mom make all the big decisions. He just goes along with things.”
Noah nods his head slowly. “It’s weird growing up and seeing our parents as people instead of just our parents.”
“Tell me about it.” This seems to be the perfect time to share what happened tonight before he picked me up.
After I describe my parents’ attire in detail, right down to the copious amount of baby oil slathered on my father, Noah bursts out laughing.
“I have no idea what I would have done if I saw my parents like that. I probably would have turned around and run away like I was being pursued by an army of hungry vampires.”
I snort at the imagery. “Can you imagine what their friends think of this? What must the church ladies be saying?”
“Maybe they’re all in on it,” Noah jokes.
I stare at him like my eyes are lasers intent on cutting him in half. “Can you imagine Reverend Hammond and his wife doing a shoot like that?”
“If they have, I can only hope they don’t allow Finley to display their work. The town would never be the same.”
The waiter stops by to clear our plates, which we take as an opportunity to order our desserts. After he leaves, I confess, “I’m already so full I have no idea how I’m going to eat an entire piece of mud pie.”
“Does that mean you might share it with me after all?” The look of raw expectation on his face causes my mind to drift to other temptations. Like kissing him again.
I hurry to change the subject before I start to drool. “Do you think Lorelai and Luke will ever move back to Elk Lake? You know, once she’s done with school?”
“I do,” he says. “My sister is a small-town girl at her core. I don’t think she would have ever left had Luke not come home and lured her away.”
“She didn’t just follow him,” I point out. “She’s going to school, too.”
Noah shrugs his shoulders. “Luke is the real draw for her.” He hurriedly adds, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that though, do you?”
I pick up my glass of ice water and take a slow sip before telling him, “I went to Madison because that’s where Brett got a job. I had an offer at a New York City publishing house that I would have much rather taken.”
Noah’s brow furrows in question. “Why didn’t you then? I mean, I’m guessing you could have done well for yourself in the Big Apple.”
I consider how to answer this question without making myself sound like a real pushover. Ultimately, I explain, “I was raised in a traditional family,” I tell him. “We all were, right?”
When he nods his head, I continue, “I always assumed that I would stay home with my future children, even if it was just until they went to school. Because of that, I guess I figured Brett’s job held more importance than mine, and that we should make the choice on where we lived based on his opportunities. ”
Noah is looking at me with such tenderness, I want to stand up and throw myself at him.
It’s clear he’s really listening to me and thinking about what I’m saying.
But the most astonishing part is that I don’t feel judged by him.
A lot of people our age are in it just for themselves and don’t seem to understand that we have to make compromises in life.
“And now you’ve come home and taken a job doing something you never thought you’d do. And you’re going to stay here.”
“So I can have a family,” I tell him. “It all comes down to what’s most important, doesn’t it? Once upon a time, I put my marriage above all else, but now that I know there are no guarantees, I’m hardly going to punish my future child for my mistakes.”
“Getting married isn’t a mistake.” He looks sad for me when he says this.
“It is if you marry the wrong person. And while I realize we can’t always know this upfront, my priorities have still shifted.”
“Having a family on your own is a huge thing to do,” he says quietly.
“Are you insinuating I can’t do it?” There’s more than a little heat to my tone.
“Not at all, Allie. You can do whatever you want. What you heard in my voice was awe, not judgment. I admire the fact that you know what you want so strongly that you’re willing to shift the vision of your entire life to have it.” The admiration in his gaze is nearly my undoing.
“You know what you want, too,” I tell him. “You want to be the head coach at a big deal school that takes number one in state.”
“I do want that,” he says. “I always have.”
My heart starts to beat so loudly I’m convinced people around us are going to turn around to try to find the source of all the noise. I eventually tell him, “It’s important to follow your dreams. No one else is going to make them come true for you.”
What I really want is for Noah to stay in Elk Lake.
If I’m being truthful, I want him to tell me that he wants to date me for real, and if things go spectacularly well, I want him to fall in love with me and adopt a whole slew of babies together.
But that’s not fair to him. I’m sure he wants his own children, and he certainly has that right.
“Dreams are funny things,” Noah replies. “You think you know what you want, and you let that desire drive you, but sometimes things change.”
Is he talking about how my dreams changed, or is he having a change of heart as well? I can’t very well ask him without sounding pathetic. Luckily, the waiter arrives with our desserts.
Moving onto a lighter topic, I tell him, “I make a mean Mississippi mud pie, but it can’t compare to this one.”
“You should make it for me some time,” he says. “That way I can be the judge.”
My eyes lower flirtatiously. “Maybe I will.”
“I’ll bring supper, so you don’t have to do all the cooking.”
“How about if you make supper?” I challenge him.
“I’m proficient at cold cereal or sandwiches,” he declares. “I’m not exactly what you’d call a whiz in the kitchen.”
“I believe you. I smelled the burnt tuna fish sandwich the day I came by for Lorelai’s sweater.” I make a face that causes him to laugh.
“So, what do you say?” he wants to know. “Next Friday at your place?”
“I’m sure Margie will love that.” I watch closely for his reaction. If he suggests we move dinner to his place then I’ll know he’s hoping it will be more of a date. If he agrees to my apartment, then I’ll know he just wants to be friends.
“Maybe we can get Jordan to come, too,” he suggests. So much for it being a date. He’s quick to add, “Those two need to spend some time together and figure things out.”
“Jordan told Margie that he’s going on a trip to visit universities this weekend.”
Noah’s eyes pop open in surprise. “Really? I wonder if that means his parents have finally decided to help out.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” I tell him before digging into my mud pie. I try to stifle a groan of pleasure, but I fail.
“That good?” he asks.
I push the plate toward the center of the table so he can try it. “Oh, yeah.”
Noah takes a bite but doesn’t look as impressed as I am. After consuming a forkful of his galette, he says, “This is where it’s at.” Then he pushes his plate next to mine.
After trying it, I tell him, “It’s okay.”
“You and I should have wound up together,” he says. “That way we’d know we didn’t have any competition when it came to sharing pie.”
Even though I know he’s teasing, a bolt of adrenaline still shoots through me at the very thought.
Before I can stop myself, I ask, “What was your last girlfriend like, Noah?” I want to know it all: how tall she was, what color hair she had, what kind of clothes she wore, why they broke up … everything.
Noah looks up, surprised by the question. Then he answers, “The last girl I dated was named Ashley.”
“She wasn’t your girlfriend?” I push.
“Maybe?”
“How can you not know if she was your girlfriend?”
“We never put a label on ourselves. We went out about seven times, and then we didn’t. I think she was dating someone else at the same time.”
“Were you mad about that?” He sure doesn’t seem to be.
“We went out, we had fun, but there was never any real love connection, so it was all good.”
“People in Chicago must date differently than in the rest of the world,” I tell him a little confused by how laid back he seems.
Noah puts his fork down and pushes his chair back in surrender. “I think it’s big city dating versus smaller city dating. You know?”
“Singles in big cities aren’t looking for ‘the one?’” I ask, making the requisite air quotes around “the one.”
“Sure they are, I just think they want to date a lot of people before settling. They want to know what they’re getting into.”
“Are you saying I settled when I married Brett?” I don’t know if I’m shocked, offended, or both.
He shrugs. “Did you?”
I want to be mad at him for even suggesting such a thing, but in truth, he might be on to something. I take another bite of my dessert. I do my best to savor it, but it’s suddenly lost all flavor. “I certainly didn’t think so at the time, but I suppose it’s possible.”
“A lot of people get married right out of college,” he says. “There’s probably good and bad that stems from that.”
“What’s the good?”
“When you’re young you don’t have a lot of baggage to sort through. There aren’t a slew of negative past experiences so you start your journey optimistically. You grow together.”
“And the bad?”
“You don’t know what else is out there, and you may not change at the same rate. One of you might outgrow the other.”
That’s not what happened between me and Brett. We tried to grow together. We tried to have a family, but that clearly wasn’t in the cards. Ultimately, I decide, “That could happen at any age.”
“I agree,” he says. “But when you’re older, you have more experience, and you might be more likely to accurately predict if the one you’re with has what it takes to meet life’s challenges with you.”
“This conversation is getting kind of depressing,” I tell him. “But I suppose it’s also making me realize that I’m glad I’m not waiting to get married again before starting a family. Marriage is uncertain, but my desire to become a mother isn’t.”
“Have you told your parents about your plans yet?” he asks.
“Not yet. There’s no sense getting them all riled before I have to.”
“If you’re lucky enough to adopt during the summer months, you might be able to have the whole summer and get maternity leave, too.”
“That’s if I keep teaching,” I say. “I need to take a couple of courses to get my certification. I’ll probably start that over the summer.” I hurry to ask, “Where do you see yourself once the school year ends?”
“Probably back in Chicago. I’m hoping Banks offers me my job back.”
“And you would take it?” I ask. “I thought you were mad they demoted you.”
With a glint in his eye, he answers, “Oh, I’ll take it. With the proper amount of groveling along with a hefty pay raise, that is.”
Our waiter stops by to see how we’re doing, and Noah asks for our check. Jake, according to his name tag, tells him, “Tim is taking care of your bill tonight. He says it’s the least he can do for the new Crappie coach.”
Noah cringes. “Please tell him that I will happily pay double every time I come in, if he will stop calling me that.”
Jake laughs. “I’ll tell him, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” Then he walks off.
Noah puts thirty dollars down on the table for a tip and brushes away my attempt to contribute. Then he stands up and asks, “Are you ready to go?”
“I’m so full I’m not sure I can walk.” In fact, I may have to resort to waddling. Which I’m sure will completely sour Noah against any romantic thoughts.
Noah reaches out and places his hand on my lower back before gently leading the way out of the dining room. I like this man so much and not just because I used to worship the ground he walked on. I like who he is now: honest, kind, and funny.
Once we’re outside of the club, he tentatively reaches out and takes my hand, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to get another kiss.