Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
NOAH
My mom used to bring me here when I was younger, maybe when I was eight.
It was our thing. We’d go on a Saturday morning when football season was over, and we’d be so excited if it coincided with them having a new exhibit.
She always said my dad got so many Saturday mornings with me because of football, she wanted to have something for just the two of us to bond over too.
I’ve seen many different exhibits over the years, including death by natural causes and extreme weather.
Mom would move as fast or as slow as I wanted through all the physical exhibits on the right side of the building.
Then we’d eat at this same McDonald’s. She’d ask me what my favorite thing we saw was while I munched on my kid’s meal.
Back then, dinosaurs were my favorite, but now that I’m older I realize it’s always been butterflies for me.
The amount of money and work it takes to keep these butterflies and plants happy and healthy must be exorbitant.
The balance of the food and the air and all the living things are so delicate.
Yet the staff here just does it. All for beauty and joy.
Well, that and to sell memberships and tickets.
Audrey and I walk slowly on the winding path through the brightly colored plants. Stopping to read about each species.
When we turn down the next path Audrey points out hot pink flowers. She looks up at me. “I saw flowers like this when we went to Hawaii a couple years ago on vacation.”
She snaps a photo of a butterfly resting on hot pink flower petals. She’s inspecting the oval leaves that come off the stem like corn on the cob. “I bet it was beautiful,” I say and move to stand by her and read the sign. “Who did you go with?”
“Me, my parents, my brother, my sister, and my nephew.”
“Wow. That’s a lot to travel with.”
“It was crazy. My nephew was only three, but my sister insisted that she didn’t want to miss out on vacation.” She hesitates. I see a flash of something behind her eyes. Something that leads me to believe this vacation wasn’t as fun as it should have been for her.
The sun coming through the huge glass-domed ceiling warms her face. “Crazy how?”
Audrey turns and heads toward the next blossoming plant. “There was a day when we were at the resort pool, and when I looked up my family was gone. It was just me and my nephew. I had been reading and hadn’t noticed them walking off. They didn’t say anything either. Just took off.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “Where did they go?”
“To an adult-only swim-up bar. They came back like two hours later drunk as skunks, ready to pack up for the day.”
“They just left their kid?”
“They said that since I was there by myself, I could help them out by watching the kid so they could have a ‘real vacation’. They knew I was trustworthy.”
“But it was your vacation too.”
“Yeah, I paid my own way.”
“And they just thought they’d brought free childcare with them?”
“They weren’t entirely wrong. It was just me, and I wouldn’t let the kid run amok.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’s taking over the family business, so he’s never expected to do anything else.”
“And your sister?”
“She’s his mom, so she apparently deserves a break.”
“Your family is something else.” I hold my hand out to her. I thought me and my dad’s relationship wasn’t that great, but this is next level.
“Don’t worry.” Her smile is small. “I’ve learned to temper my expectations over the years.
” Hers is a quiet heartbreak. The kind that happens slowly over time.
Regardless of my differences with my father, he has always supported me.
Would I still be able to say that if I hadn’t wanted to play football?
That’s certainly something to think about.
We walk a little farther in silence. I can see the exit ahead and it makes me a little sad knowing that we’re this close to the end of our day together.
If I think back to where we were just a week ago, I’m startled by how much Audrey has come to mean to me.
I’m not one to fall hard or fast, but I trust my gut when it’s telling me something.
“Noah, stand still,” Audrey exclaims, and I freeze, worried I’m about to smoosh a butterfly resting in the path.
“What is it?”
“There’s a butterfly right on your shoulder.
” She points to my left side, and I look down to find a black and white butterfly lounging comfortably on my shirtsleeve.
“It’s so beautiful. Hold still!” The camera that just a second ago was taking photos of the flora and fauna is now trained at me.
“Smile,” she says, and I look at her over the top of my shoulder.
How could anyone not have a smile on their face right now?
The butterfly garden is magical, but soon I’ll be traveling more often, and I need to have solid footing between us before that begins. I’ve seen how hard the regular season can be on relationships, and having one in its infancy stage could be a recipe for disaster. “Speaking of expectations…”
“Yes?”
I gather my courage to ask, walking in a slow circle around Audrey, making sure there are no hitchhiking butterflies trying to catch a ride to the outside world, careful not to disturb the one hitching a ride on me.
When I land back in front of her, I take her hand again. “Where do you think this is headed?”
She opens her mouth, no doubt to instinctually say whatever first comes to mind, but quickly closes it.
I wait for her to speak.
She starts her slow circle around me. Checking me over and biding her time. Just the sense of her eyes roving over me sends shivers down my spine. “I really like you…”
My heart beats one big thump at the words. “But?”
“But… this is very new.” She sighs as if giving in to her own doubt. “I can feel this thing between us growing and it’s terrifying. I have lived all the highest highs and the lowest lows that you can in a relationship, and I don’t know if I have the strength to do that again.”
“You do.” I take her by the shoulders. “I won’t hurt you.”
“You can’t guarantee that.” She looks defeated. Like she spent too many years trying to get people to see her, and everyone insisted on wearing blindfolds.
“I’ll do anything to make you feel safe with me.”
“I thought about it earlier, and all I can offer you right now is friends.” I take a step back from her, dropping my hands from her shoulders.
“So, no to being my girlfriend?”
“Not yet.”
“But yes to hanging out?”
She nods. I pull her to my chest and wrap my arms around her. “We can talk as long as you need. I’m not in any rush, Audrey. I’m willing to take whatever you’re willing to give.”
In order to do that, though, I need to be in Houston, which means I cannot fall prey to the distraction that working to gain Audrey’s confidence will provide.
“Don’t be nervous,” Audrey says as she guides my hand where she wants it.
“They don’t bite.” Her guinea pigs dance below, excitedly awaiting the carrot in my hand.
They stand on their hind legs and snatch it from me as soon as it’s within their reach.
I never really thought that much about guinea pigs before now, but in person they’re so cute.
Their little faces and their squeaks do bring a smile to your face.
We lean over the cage, shoulder to shoulder, and watch Reba and Dolly tug the carrot back and forth between them, both trying to take more bites.
“Enough, girls. There’s plenty to go around.” She puts another carrot on the bottom of the cage.
“This cage is huge.” It takes up all the space on a huge built-in between the kitchen and the living room. It has hiding spaces, hammocks, beds of hay, and it’s lined with fleece.
“The cages they sell at the store actually aren’t big enough. They’re social creatures, which means you need to have more than one, which means more space.” She gestures at the big cage.
“Do you take them out?”
She laughs. “Of course, they’re staples of Nicole and my’s Survivor nights. We all sit on the couch with our food together.”
“Do you ever make games for them?”
She gives me a mischievous smile. “Do you want to make them a maze?”
“Absolutely I do.”
“Be right back.” I watch as she goes out the side door and into the garage. She comes back carrying a huge cardboard box, a roll of tape, and a pair of scissors. We lay out all the supplies on the living room floor.
“So, this big piece will be the bottom, and we’ll use the other pieces to make walls, then tape them together.”
I sit on the floor next to her and start cutting pieces of cardboard. Audrey picks up the pencil she brought and outlines where the walls should go. I look at it over her shoulder. “Two dead ends? You’re harsh.”
“They’re smarter than you think. They’ll crack it in no time.”
The sounds of tape ripping and cardboard cutting fills the air, and an easy silence falls between us. As we tape and make walls, I feel a warmth grow in my chest. This doesn’t feel like a date. It feels more like a glimpse of what a regular weekend evening could be with Audrey in the future.
I watch as Audrey puts the last piece of tape in place and sits back on her heels to admire our handiwork. “Do you want to pick one up and bring her over?”
I put my hand behind my head to rub my neck, a little nervous. “Sure.” These are her furbabies and I’ve never picked one up before. What if it squeals or bites me or jumps out of my hand? We stand by the cage again.
“You’ll get Dolly, she’s better with new people.
I’ll get Reba first and show you.” She brings her hands into the cage; it’s at waist height for her so it’s an easy reach over the plastic walls.
“You want to put one hand under their butt and one under their front legs.” She does so to Reba, who easily allows herself to be lifted.
She holds the guinea pig toward me. “Ta-dah. Your turn.”