Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
AUDREY
AUGUST
The time I’ve spent with Noah the last couple of weeks has been nothing short of amazing.
We’ve mostly just been keeping to ourselves.
Seeing movies and sitting way in the back.
Hanging out at my house, making desserts and watching TV.
Taking really long walks on days that Noah’s feeling tight after a tough workout—which now that training camp is over and they’re playing preseasons games is pretty often.
But mostly, we’ve been getting to know each other. Taking things slow.
Is it a red flag on my part that I have yet to tell him why my relationship ended?
Probably. I’m still not in a hurry. It feels like as long as we don’t have that conversation, then we’re not serious and this stays fun and just friends hanging out.
And if we aren’t ever serious, then there’s no reason to have that discussion.
Despite that, I can’t help but crave being around him.
There’s such a caretaker presence about him.
He brings a calm with him wherever he goes.
It’s like if shit is going to go sideways in my life and he’s around, he’s going to weather the storm for me.
He won’t let me get into a hard place and will be the rock in my life.
It’s Michael’s fifth birthday this Sunday. His big party with all his little friends is next weekend, and this is just the family celebration. As I pull up to my parents’ house, I’m pretty confident in how things will go. I’ll quickly open a bottle of wine to get me through the entire day.
I love my family, but… when we all got together for my mom’s birthday a couple months ago, I walked in to find her hairdresser's son waiting to greet me at the front door. They thought I should get to know Sean. Apparently, he has a master’s in mathematics and wants to work at NASA.
What’s not to like? Except the fact that this was only three months post-engagement blow up, and I was in no way ready to be set up with someone.
I wish my mom would have known that it was too soon for me.
But it never even occurred to her, I guess.
My parents are pushy, but they only have their life experiences to go off of, so that’s what they think everyone should have.
It doesn’t come from a place of negativity, just a bootstraps mentality.
It worked for them when they were younger (and the economy was better and everything was all around cheaper).
But literally, times are so different now, yet they don’t acknowledge that.
Mikey plops down on the sofa next to me and heaves a sigh only a kid who has no real responsibilities is capable of.
“What’s up, bud?”
“Why don’t I have any cousins?” Mikey is very upfront, no decorum.
“Because Uncle Lane doesn’t have any kids yet.”
“But you could.”
“I could, but I don’t.”
“Why not?”
I stall, thinking how to best answer. A four—sorry, five-year-old—isn’t going to understand sexism, misogyny, and reproductive freedoms. I go with the age-appropriate truth instead.
“Everyone wants different things in life. Some people want to have kids, other people want to focus on their careers. I have different things that bring me happiness. Like hanging out with you.” I tickle his side teasingly.
“Besides, you’d have to share your cake. ”
He thinks for a second, the wheels behind his big brown eyes turning. “You’re right. More cake for me.”
“Exactly.” I nudge him to the edge of the couch. “Now go wash up for dinner.”
Dinner is only mildly chaotic. The chicken and the sides aren’t done at the same time, and Mom’s in a tizzy that waiting for the potatoes will dry the chicken out. My nephew is pretty unenthusiastic about being ripped from his iPad to sit at the dining room table.
The chatter at dinner is lighthearted, though. Everyone’s in a good mood for Mikey’s birthday. I don’t care because I can drink my cabernet and eat my meal in peace. I would rather hear one-hundred times what Michael hopes to get for his birthday than let my parents turn their attention to me.
No one gets up from the table until Dad is done eating.
That’s the way it’s always been. Once he pushes his chair back, the rest of us stand and start grabbing dishes.
We all file into the galley kitchen. Mom shoos Dad and Lane away from the dishes, insisting that we will handle them after dessert.
Sarah is quick to send Mom with them since she cooked, leaving Sarah and me to get the cake out and put candles in it.
I grab the gloves and the sponge to get to washing.
We’ll serve the cake right after. Sarah loads the dishwasher and prepares to dry.
We first decided to do it this way in middle school.
Sarah hated scrubbing, and I didn’t mind washing with gloves.
As I wait for the water to get hot, I can’t help but think that maybe Sarah and I would be closer if I weren’t so much older than her.
Maybe it’s her strong calling to motherhood, teaching, and everything kids.
Her introduction to it at such a young age.
Maybe it’s my nonexistent motherly instinct.
I read once that motherhood is a spectrum.
One side is the kind of person who knows from a young age that they want to be a mother.
The other end is someone who doesn’t have any interest in mothering or parenting.
The lowest level won’t even take care of pets.
They don’t want to be responsible for any living thing.
I probably fall around the okay-with-taking-care-of-dogs level—or at least guinea pigs—but am uninterested in children.
“So…” Sarah knocks me out of my thoughts with her pointed tone. I grab a pot and start scrubbing.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Who’s the boy?”
“What boy?” I make sure my tone is even.
“A certain six-foot, dark-haired man I saw you with at the movies.”
“How did you see us at the movies?” I look up from my hands. “Why didn’t you come say hello?”
“You two looked awfully occupied. You were hanging all over his arm with a stupid look on your face. Obviously, you guys are together.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m not interested in getting hurt again.”
She nods slowly. “Right.”
I already know where she’s going with this. She didn’t understand why I had to leave Hunter over something she didn’t think I could be sure of. “If you weren’t so stubborn, you wouldn’t have to be so worried.”
I rinse the pot I’m working on. “We’ve had this conversation before, Sarah. I feel the same way today as I did then.”
“And you’re worried that opening that can of worms will scare him away.” It’s not a question. Like she knows all the secrets I’m keeping from Noah, and from myself.
I decided to play dumb. “You don’t know that he doesn’t already know.”
“I do,” she says, and I stop washing.
I continue to look at the soap covering my hands. I want to bluff, but she’s right.
She sighs like all her investigating of my dating life has tired her. “I know everything.”
“What’s everything?”
“I know he plays for the Hurricanes. I know you’ve been hanging out for weeks.”
“How?”
“I saw you and Noah at the movies when I took Mikey to see that new cartoon movie with the cats. I did some sleuthing after. I knew I recognized him from somewhere. Once I got to googling, it wasn’t hard. Tyler used to watch the Hurricanes all the time.”
I thought I saw a blonde kid with light up Blue’s Clues shoes when we were there, but was too engrossed in Noah to really pay attention.
“You’re not going to say anything, are you?” I drop my eyes back to the sink. “I’m going to tell him eventually. We haven’t gotten to that point yet.” I grab the next pan and try to calm my racing heart.
“Of course I won’t. Besides, it’s not like I’ll run into him or the two of you again,” she says and my head perks up. “I’ll keep it a secret, though, if you help me out a little.”
I side eye her suspiciously. “With what?” I already babysit whenever she needs it.
“Tyler is fighting me for full custody. He got his high school friend who’s a big shot lawyer involved.”
“Mom told me, and I said no.” I put the pan I was working on down and leaned my hands against the edge of the sink.
“I need help.” My heart hurts at the desperation in my little sister’s voice.
“I can’t help with that, Sarah. I only have so much. Need I remind you that I work for myself? Why can’t Mom and Dad help out?”
“They put all their money back in the business.”
I snort. “Okay.” That’s such a copout.
“You work for yourself, and you’ve been working a lot, so either you already have some money to spare, or you can take on a couple extra clients to help me out.”
“Where am I supposed to find these extra clients?” I wave my soapy hands around as if conjuring up said clients.
“Oh. You’ll only need one more client, I’m sure. Specifically, one who plays professional football.”
The shock of what she's suggesting hits me and I shake my head. “No. I’m not going to do that.”
She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Of course you will. You’re my big sister.
” She finishes drying the pan in her hand, sets it down, and leans against the counter.
In the space of my silence, she drops the dishtowel on the countertop.
“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
” She walks to the fridge and starts getting Mikey’s cake ready.
I marinate in my own disbelief as I wash the rest of the dishes.
When Mom said something to me a couple weeks ago, I thought she was acting of her own accord, but maybe she was put up to it by Sarah and just didn’t do a very good job probing me.
Obviously, Sarah has decided to take matters into her own hands and jumped at the opportunity that was presented to her after seeing us at the movie theater.