Chapter 26
LUCA
“Ding dong,” I call out after I let myself into Noel’s apartment. “Hey, baby? Are you ready?”
“Nope,” he calls back. “I need like, five minutes.”
Which probably translates to fifteen, but it’s not a huge deal.
We are supposed to be meeting with Demi and her boyfriend, Jacob, for dinner, but dinner isn’t until seven and it’s currently five-thirty.
Plenty of time. My friend Lael, who is a real estate agent, said we could come by anytime between six and seven.
And I’m nervous, but not because of the dinner, though Noel won’t know that. He will probably think that meeting the guy who might be a future part-time parent to my daughter is reason enough for nerves, and that’s true enough—but it’s not why I’m nervous right this minute.
I go into Noel’s bedroom, which I’ve been seeing enough of that it feels sort of like mine at this point, too.
There’s a shirt hanging over the footboard that I’m pretty sure is one of mine, though it’s hard to say if I forgot it, or if Noel stole it for the express purpose of sleeping in it.
And my Bruins hat is still sitting on his dresser, because I never did actually retrieve it.
Noel’s sitting in front of his mirror, carefully applying his eyeliner.
He looks incredible as always, in shorts cut low enough that his tattoo peaks over his hip and a cropped t-shirt that shows off the belly ring.
His tattoo is healing beautifully, too. From here you can hardly tell anything happened.
Up close is another story, but I suppose it’s like a story, in a way.
A fucked up one that’s entirely my fault, but I’m still trying to make it right.
Here’s hoping what I show him tonight goes a good way towards that. A lot of moving parts to organize over the last few weeks, a lot of talks with Demi and trips to the bank. The filing of things that should’ve happened months and months ago.
He smiles at my reflection in the mirror. “Hey, you.”
“Hi,” I say. “You look amazing.”
He preens, a peacock in full feather. “You think Josh or Jake or whoever is going to be freaked out by me? Give me the it treatment?”
“Or fall madly in love with you,” I theorize. “It could go either way.”
“That’s like the dream, isn’t it? Turning straight dudes gay.” He picks some invisible fuzz off his lashes. “I don’t think that’s ever happened to me.”
“I bet it has,” I say wryly.
“Well, no one’s ever bothered to tell me.
” He caps the eyeliner and tosses it aside, climbing to his feet.
He leans up to kiss me all too quickly; he’s wearing something glossy on his lips he doesn’t want to smudge.
“This is so weird, isn’t it? Like, not being in immediate and constant crises. The last few weeks have been so chill.”
“I love it,” I confess. Never have I gotten to enjoy him so thoroughly, without worrying about one thing or another. Surely we’ve earned ourselves a nice, long break—at least until the baby comes, anyway.
“I’m kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I’m not. I’m ready for things to be good forever.”
He sort of shakes himself. “I don’t know. My head still thinks there’s a war to fight or something. My whole life’s been shitty and hard, so when it’s not, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“It’ll take time,” I say. “Unlearning all that. That’s what your therapist said, right?”
“Something like that.” He claps his hands together. “Okay. I just need to pick a pair of boots.”
“How about the big chunky black ones?”
“But that could be any of them.”
“Exactly,” I say dryly.
He manages to single out a pair amongst his many, and then we’re in the truck on the way to Revere.
Behind the wheel I’m all nerves again, to the point where it’s making me sick to my stomach, because what if he hates it?
What if he says no? What if he’s not ready for this level of commitment again, something I couldn’t quite blame him for considering how it all turned out before, but would be devastated to hear nonetheless?
“You haven’t met this guy yet, right?” If Noel’s picked up on my mood he’s being subtle about it, leaning down to retie the laces on his boots. “I hope you did a background check on him.”
I laugh a little. “I thought about it, but that’s too petty even for me.”
“Not for me. I’d love to trot that out. I bet Demi would get it.
We understand each other now, I think.” He’s oddly confident of this, and I realize I never did ask how it went, their meeting back in July.
He never volunteered it, and Demi only mentioned that they’d had a good talk.
So much had happened that day alone it’d sort of slipped my mind.
“You’re okay with this, right?” I ask him, not for the first time. “Doing this dinner with Demi and Jacob? You can still say no, I won’t be offended. I’m not going to make you sit through the bullshit.”
“No way.” And I think some secret part of him delights being involved at all, having a stake in this family which is becoming his family, thorny and fucked up as it is.
Not-so-secretly, I delight in it too. “I’m not letting you interview Aster’s future stepdad alone.
We’ve got to do the whole good cop bad cop routine.
I’m the bad cop, of course. Plus, I want some real food. ”
My mouth twitches. “If you were some cop interrogating me, I’d be in fucking trouble.”
“I feel like I’d have a confession out of you in seconds, yeah.” I catch sight of his grin.
He would, of course.
We don’t turn onto my street when we reach Revere, which Noel immediately clocks, sitting up straight and peering out the window at the unfamiliar route. “Are we going to a restaurant or something?” he asks. “I thought we were eating at your house.”
“We are,” I say. I’m clutching the steering wheel for dear life so my hands don’t start shaking.
I already sort of feel sweaty and anxious.
There’s excitement under all that too, but also the expectation that this stupid idea of mine could go horribly wrong like everything else has the last eight months and maybe it’s not just Noel’s brain that’s still in the trenches.
Maybe I’m right there with him. “I wanted to check something out first really quick.”
“Check what out?” He’s wary, of course, watching me with a guarded look because of course we don’t exactly have a good history with surprises. “What is it? Tell me.”
“You’ll see in exactly thirty seconds,” I assure him. “I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.”
The timing, of course, I misjudge because of traffic, and it’s more like two and a half minutes—I’m blowing this already—before we finally pull up to a small, single story house with white siding and a For Sale sign standing in its attractive front garden.
Lael’s sleek BMW is already parked at the curb, and she steps out when we pull into the driveway, waving to us as we pass.
“What is this?” Noel asks plaintively as I pull the keys out of the ignition. “Isn’t that one of your friends? Is this her house? Why are we here?”
I get out of the truck. “Come on. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
He ambles after me, grabbing onto my fingers as I go to meet Lael on the front porch.
I can’t help but notice the enormous rock on the ring finger of her left hand as we approach, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
Between her job and her wife working as a traveling welder, they live an enviable life indeed.
Hell, maybe I should’ve become a welder.
It makes me wonder what sort of ring Noel would like, if we were to ever get engaged. Something with a black stone, definitely; it’s his favorite color. And the band would have to be white gold; he only ever wears silver jewelry. And—
“Hey, Luca. Noel, good to see you again. It’s been a while.
” Lael smiles at us both. She holds her hand out to Noel, and he shakes it, his expression a mix of mutiny and confusion that’s trying very hard to be polite.
She turns to unlock the door, the keys jingling.
“Do you want me to take you guys through, or would you rather check it out yourselves? I’m fine with either. ”
I’ve already walked through this house out with her a few days ago. “I think we’ll look around ourselves,” I say, squeezing Noel’s other hand. “Thanks, Lael.”
“Sure, take your time.” She stands aside. “Let me know when you’re finished. I’ll just be waiting in the car.”
I lead Noel into the house and shut the door behind us.
We’re standing in the small living room, the walls a bright white and the flooring an obviously old but polished hardwood.
The house is staged nicely, a plush couch overflowing with pillows sitting in front of a glass coffee table stacked with candles and books, and there’s a large TV in the corner.
The natural light is so abundant that I don’t even need to turn on the lights.
I do it anyway, reaching over to flick on the switch behind Noel.
Which is when he faces off with me, tugging his hand from my grip. “Okay Luca, what’s going on? Is this like, oh let’s go look at houses for sale and dream up something that’s never going to happen in a million years, or something?”
“What? No, that’s not—”
“Because,” he goes on, raising his voice over mine, “I guess the idea’s cute in theory, but the reality is sort of fucked up. ‘Cause you still live with your baby-mom-slash-wife, and her boyfriend’s probably halfway living there too, and I’m still all the way across freakin’ town alone—”
“Noel, no, no.” I’m hasty to correct him. “You’ve got it all wrong. That’s not what this is at all. I want to buy this house. For us. I mean, assuming you like it, of course.”
He blinks at me, his long lashes fluttering. “What? What do you mean? I thought...” He trails off, tawny eyes wide and lips parted in shock.