Chapter 2
NORA
I found him tucked up in the tree on the side yard of the resort, sniffling.
“Hey, Cap.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Okay,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just sit here in this bush next to you. Is that okay?”
I saw movement that I thought might be a shrug, but it was tough to tell in the dark.
Why I’d suggested I sit directly in a bush next to his tree, I wasn’t sure.
It had looked like it might hold me well enough, but now it poked my butt through my jeans.
Plus, I was kind of suspended by a web of feeble branches that could go at any minute.
Luckily, I didn’t think I was going to fall through.
Guess there was some benefit to having been called “bony legs” my whole life.
I cleared my throat. Talking was the best way to calm Cap down enough to come down without his dad.
I wasn’t a talker. I was a listener. An observer. I liked making videos of other people talking. When I talked, I said the wrong thing.
But for Cap, I’d do anything.
I glanced over at Jude, but we were too far away, and it was too dark over here to see anything except his family crowded around him.
My heart clenched. He’d looked like a gallant prince or something when he’d been focused in mock battle with Cap, his arm outstretched behind him like they were fencing. Now he just looked broken.
I pushed my glasses up my nose, trying to get a comfortable position in the bush.
“You know, I had a tree like that in my backyard when I was a kid. Back home in North Carolina, before we moved here.”
Silence.
“I fell out of it.” I realized my mistake the moment I said it. “I don’t mean…it’s not like it’s inherently dangerous to sit in a tree. I just wasn’t as good a climber as you.”
More silence. At least he was listening.
“It wasn’t even the tree’s fault. It was my big brother’s.
His name was Christian, and he was much braver than me.
” Foolhardy, more like it. But still. I cleared my throat, continuing.
“The tree branches were way up over our heads, but Christian stacked two chairs on top of each other to try to get me to climb up myself. ‘You can’t be a scaredy-cat your whole life, Nora!’ he said. ”
My chest twisted at the memory. I used to get so mad at Christian for trying to knock the timidity out of me. He’d been a real jerk back then, even though I knew he was trying to help.
“He used to tell me that the only time I ever had any fun was when I was sleeping. I was a sleepwalker. Did you know that? Still am.” I glanced at the tree but saw no movement.
Maybe I should have told a sleepwalking story.
Jude loved those. He was also better at telling stories than I was, though I’d learned from him that once you had a captive audience, you needed to stay on track and make a point.
Stick to the chairs, Nora.
“It wasn’t very smart of me,” I said, “but I decided to do it just to get Christian to be quiet. The chairs were wobbly, though, and by the time I got onto the top one, they were starting to fall.”
I shuddered. The memory of those chairs giving way still rattled me, even all those years later.
“I yelled at Christian to hold them, but he told me I had to be brave and do it myself. I jumped up and grabbed a branch, but I was never very coordinated, and I didn’t grab on properly.
I couldn’t hang on, so I fell out of it.
I broke my arm. Can you believe it? My dad was so mad at Christian, but also at me, for listening to him. ”
So was I. I don’t know why I’d told that story when it still bothered me so much.
Growing up, I’d always been the quiet kid with her nose stuck in a book. I looked like one too: my childhood photos are characterized by corduroy pants and argyle sweaters, my hair in the same two long braids I wear today.
I watched as the adventurous kids rode skateboards and swung on rope swings.
I didn’t do those things myself. Christian was like that.
My childhood best friend Callie had been like that, too.
She always ran the races and acted in the school plays.
Later, she dated the bad boy in town, while I stayed home and covered for her. Now, she was mayor of our hometown.
As an adult, I chose a sensible, quiet career, and had hobbies that kept my feet safely on the ground. The men I dated—who were few and far between—were quiet and timid like me. I never felt much for them, but I knew they wouldn’t break me, either.
The fact was, whenever I took risks, I got into trouble. Just like Christian and the chairs.
So, I didn’t take them. Instead, I lived my quiet life behind flashy people like Callie and Jude, wondering if there was something more for me, but not willing to stick my neck out to see for sure.
Until now.
A crackle sounded in the tree and Cap’s face appeared as he bent down to look at me, maybe to check if I was still there.
“Hey, buddy.” I waved.
His face quickly retreated.
Another wave of guilt threatened to wash over me, but I reminded myself of the mantra I’d been repeating for months, ever since I’d hit submit on the application for the Waldorf Archival College in London.
And especially in the last few weeks, when I’d gotten the acceptance & full bursary confirmation email, along with an invitation to start early on their fast-track program, due to my previous schooling and work experience.
No more living in everyone else’s shadow.
I wished I had all the time in the world to sit here with Cap. But I didn’t. Not when I was leaving Quince Valley in a matter of weeks.
“For the record, big guy,” I said. “I think you’re like Christian.
And your dad. You’re brave and smart. You’re going to do great things with your life.
” His shiny brown hair fell over his eye as he retracted his face back into hiding.
He’d be gorgeous too, like a dark-haired version of Jude.
He had the same thick lashes, the same high cheekbones and long nose. The same smile.
A sudden wave of sadness washed over me as I looked back at Jude sitting on the ground, his arms resting on his raised knees, head hung low.
To my surprise, his dad had sat down next to him, patting his back.
If this were a documentary, I’d get that shot.
They were lit up by the streetlight a few feet away.
Jude was the picture of pain. And soon, I was only going to make it worse.
It had been excruciating being around my best friend lately, knowing I had this big hairy secret I couldn’t tell him.
One that would break his and his son’s heart.
Callie visited me last year—it’s what precipitated me applying to Waldorf College. She’d asked me why Jude and I weren’t together. I’d laughed out loud.
Jude and I had been at dinner with her and her husband. She’d cornered me in the bathroom.
“Jude’s—Jude,” I’d said. “He used to date supermodels.” I didn’t add that it seemed to be a short phase in his life, and that I hadn’t seen him date anyone since I’d known him.
Still. “He’s been on the cover of magazines and traveled the world first class.
I’m Nora.” I looked down. “Quiet, shortsighted, shy librarian Nora.”
Maybe I was a little tipsy from the wine Jude bought us, but I couldn’t remember saying that out loud before. It sounded pathetic.
“He doesn’t do all those things anymore though, does he?” Callie asked. “You’re like two peas in a pod.”
“Yeah, one big and shiny and one small and hiding in the shell.”
I hadn’t meant to sound so self-pitying, but Callie grabbed me by the shoulders. “You still deserve a big life, Nora. You deserve happiness just as much as anyone else. And no one’s going to get hurt if you go out and spread your wings.”
I hadn’t been able to get that conversation out of my head.
I know she’d been talking about me and Jude, which I still thought was laughable, but she’d been right about me keeping my wings clipped.
Maybe I didn’t need to take the kind of risks that got people hurt. Maybe I could take sensible risks.
But I’d realized something else, too. Callie thought Jude had been focused on me—and she’d been right.
But not in the way she thought. It wasn’t that he was interested in me in any way other than a friend.
But I knew so long as I was around, he’d never have to find a woman to love the way he deserved.
He’d never give Cap the mom he needed.
Jude confessed to me once that he had never had a real relationship.
The man was thirty-two years old, and he’d never let himself get close to anyone in that way. And after he found out he was going to be a dad, he hadn’t let himself get close to a woman at all.
I think finding that out was the turning point in our relationship. The point where I knew our close friendship wasn’t just bad for me. It was bad for him, and by extension, Cap, too. The conversation with Callie confirmed it.
That’s why this call from his ex—as terrible as it had gone—was serendipitous. I never believed she ran out of there by choice. And her calling tonight proved it. If anyone could knock him out of his self-imposed austerity, it had to be the mother of his child.
They deserved to be a family again. That made my heart hurt with the sting of a thousand arrows, but I told myself it was just me missing something I’d probably never have.
There was a rustle of leaves, then a thump as Cap jumped out of the tree. “Can I sit with you?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He looked at the branches, then crawled onto my lap.
My chest bloomed with warmth. I loved this kid. So freakin’ much.
“You know when I met your dad,” I said, “I thought he was really silly, the way he was always smiling, and with his hair in a bun on the top of his head, like a ballerina.”
Jude’s hair was only shoulder-length, so it wasn’t actually a neat, twisted bun, but Cap still giggled, hopefully picturing his dad pirouetting. Which, God help us, he’d probably be amazing at. “I still think he’s pretty silly.”
I hesitated, thinking for a moment about what it was like when I was his age. “But sometimes…when people who’re usually calm and kind get angry, it’s really scary. Especially if they’re people you love.”
Cap nodded.
“My dad was like that.”
A beat passed. Then, “Are they lost?”
Cap had said the words so softly I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “Lost?”
“Like my mom. She was lost since I was a baby.”
My heart tightened, and I clamped my lips into a line. So that’s where your mom isn’t here right now, but she still loves you so much had shaped itself into in his little mind. Of course. What else would make sense?
“No,” I said, honestly, swallowing a lump in my throat.
“My dad—he died a few years ago.” My chest tightened.
My dad had been a single father too. He hadn’t been nearly as amazing as Jude was to Cap, but he’d managed.
Christian and I had come out of childhood relatively unscathed.
I think. “My mom,” I hesitated. “She’s not lost. She’s just far away.
Just like your mom. She left when I was little. ”
“When you were little like me?”
“Sort of.” My mom had taken off when I was about his age, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
I had only the fuzziest memories of her.
“I was like you growing up. No mom, only a dad. Except I didn’t have all those aunts and uncles you have.
Or a grandpa. Just one big brother who helped me fall out of trees. ”
That got a smile out of him. But it vanished as he spoke his next words.
“I thought when Dad found Mom, he’d be happy,” Jude said. “He always looked sad when I asked him about her. But he was yelling at her.”
Poor Cap sounded stricken.
“Sometimes…” I hesitated. “Sometimes people don’t know how they’re going to react until they’re faced with a problem.”
Jude had talked to me several times about his ex—but I never got more than a few words out of him after the basics.
She’d been a model or an actress, maybe both.
It had been a brief affair—he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship.
I remember being surprised. I thought it was the brief tryst with Farrah that ended in a child that had turned Jude off relationships, but apparently he’d always been that way. She just made it worse.
But he’d only found out after she’d had the baby that she’d lied to him about her age—she was barely legal when he’d gotten her pregnant. Her parents were devastated. Furious with Jude.
The whole thing had messed him up. I knew he blamed himself for not only getting someone pregnant, but someone her age.
“Do you think he made her too mad to call back?” Cap asked now.
I shook my head, a lump in my throat.
Over across the snow, I saw a figure separating from the others, walking toward us, head hung low.
Jude.
My heart hurt for him. My heart hurt just looking at him, too. I knew he was ashamed of how he’d acted in front of Cap. But I also knew the only thing that could fix it was holding his little guy, just like I was doing right now.
“Nora,” Cap whispered. He’d looked up, as if sensing his father’s approach. I guess that’s why I’d looked up too. I’d sensed him. I always did. I sat up a little straighter.
“Yeah, buddy?”
Cap’s eyes went to his dad, who was maybe a hundred and fifty feet from us still. “Do you have any secrets?”
I was surprised at the question, but answered honestly. “Yes.” One big one. Because I still hadn’t told Jude about London. Had Cap sensed it? “Why are you asking?”
He hesitated. “Because I have one. But I don’t want Dad getting mad at me about it.”
“Oh, Cap. He won’t—” I cut myself off. I didn’t know what the secret was. For all I knew, maybe Jude would get mad at him, though I couldn’t believe that would ever be true.
“Okay, baby, it’s okay. As long as no one’s getting hurt—”
“No.”
“I want to tell you.” He swallowed.
I wondered what it would be like to have one more thing stuck between me and Jude. But I wouldn’t betray Cap’s confidence. Not unless there was real danger…
Jude was getting close now.
“Okay,” I said.
Cap looked up at me. Then he whispered, “Even though Dad said we were a team, just the two of us, and we didn’t need anybody else…I always wanted a…” His voice cracked. “I always wanted a mom.”
I smiled, my eyes watering. I’d made the right choice. As much as this would hurt leaving them, it was the right thing to do. “You should have one, Cap. You’re going to make a mom so proud one day.”
But then Cap surprised me by looking up at my face.
“That’s not the secret,” he whispered.
“Oh,” I whispered. “What is it?”
He looked away as if shy. “I want you to be my mom.”
I was so stunned, it wasn’t until I heard him clear his throat that I realized Jude was standing only a few feet away.