20. Noel
20
Noel
T he lights of downtown Autumn Lake sparkled against the night sky in the town’s muted reflection shimmering off the lake. Even in winter, Noel thought, with the bare-branched trees and the quiet streets, it really was a charming scene. He could see why Addison liked coming home to this place at the end of the day.
He was more comfortable getting around the little town now that he was spending time over on the south shore. There simply weren’t that many streets to get lost on, and the majority of the businesses that stayed open during the off-tourist season were fairly centrally located. “Everything is within walking distance,” Addison had said on more than one occasion. “If I didn’t have to drive for work, I might not even own a car.”
Noel turned into the little alley and spotted Addison’s upstairs deck festooned with twinkle lights. As he neared her parking spots, he realized she was standing at the top of the stairs, her shoulders draped in a fluffy, colorful shawl that fell around her almost to her knees. She wore her hair down and in one hand, she held a mug of something presumably warm in it. She waved as he pulled in and parked.
They exchanged helloes as he got out of his car and started up the steps. He’d taken note when she’d said she wasn’t much of a drinker, and this evening, instead of wine, he’d brought a chilled bottle of fancy carbonated Rose Lemonade with him.
At the top of the stairs, Addison stood back to let him pass, but he paused in front of her. “You’re a lovely sight for sore eyes,” he said to her, and he meant it. He’d imagined this moment all day, sitting across the shared offices from John. Her smile was warm and open, and beneath the shawl, he was glad to see she had on comfortable, casual clothes. He’d dressed in jeans and a Henley, and had hoped it would be appropriate. He tried not to look too long at her pretty pink lips; he didn’t want her to know how much he wanted to pull her close and kiss her again. “I hope this is okay?” he said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt. He held out the bottle for her to see.
Addison took it from him. “It’s perfect. I’ve never had this before. Thank you.” She sounded as nervous as he felt.
He took a moment to look around the sparkly deck, appreciating her eclectic style. There was a small round table with a mosaic pattern on the top and two matching chairs. A lantern sat on the table, a jumble of tiny stringed lights inside it rather than a candle. An old fruit crate sat on end with a basket of magazines tucked inside, and hanging from the roof beam overhead was one of those nest chairs made of knotted rope with a colorful cushion in the seat. “Very cool,” he said, nodding at the arrangement.
“Very cool,” she echoed, wrapping an arm around herself, and shivering dramatically. “Freezing, in fact. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” he admitted with a self-conscious chuckle. His stomach loudly validated his words, making Addison grin.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. Come in, come in. It’s cold out here.” She lifted the mug in a gesture toward the open front door, and her shawl slid from one shoulder. Noel reached for the end of it before it dragged on the ground and gently arranged it back in place around her neck. He thought she shivered under his touch; he hoped that was a good thing.
He followed her inside the apartment, pausing just inside the door to let his eyes wander around the space, a combination kitchenette, dining, and living room. The deck had been only the top of the eclectic iceberg compared to the inside of her home. Bold colors and delicate patterns combined to make the room feel both cozy and creative. None of the artwork matched, the furniture was grouped together in surprising ways that somehow worked. Parts of the wood floor shone at the edges of a collection of vintage carpets, and in one corner of the room was a beanbag chair the size of a loveseat.
“That’s my favorite place to read,” Addison said, following his gaze. “On winter mornings, the sun comes in that window and warms the room up nicely. In summer, I’m usually out on my deck with my coffee.” Her expression shone with pride over her little domain.
“This is amazing, all this color and style. It suits you.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice coming out a little breathless. She slipped out of her shawl and draped it on a coatrack, then continued while he followed suit. “I do love this place. I’ve totally made it mine. I don’t own it, of course, but it’s mine while I’m here, and my landlord pretty much lets me have free reign.”
“For good reason,” Noel declared. Then he saw the plant on the kitchen counter next to the sink. “Is that—?” he asked, pointing at it.
“Isn’t she the cutest?” Addison asked, her cheeks pinking prettily. She crossed over to it and rubbed a waxy leaf between her thumb and finger. Shyly, she said, “I’ve named her. Emerald, because of the color, but Emmy for short.”
Noel nodded. “Emmy. I like that.” He felt a little silly talking about the plant that way, but the smile on her face as she looked adoringly at the thing made it all worth it.
She asked him to pour their drinks while she dished up their food. “It’s simple fare tonight,” she said. “Nothing fancy. Just hamburger soup and grilled cheese.”
“Sounds amazing to me,” he replied. It smelled amazing to him, too, the aromas rich and heavy in the air around them. He saw the look of surprise on her face when he held her chair for her, but she thanked him softly and waited until he sat before she took a sip of the pink lemonade he’d brought.
“Oh, wow,” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “This is yummy. Zingy!”
Noel chuckled as he, too, tasted the bright, refreshing soda. “Good word. You should try their ginger beer. Talk about zingy.”
Regardless of who he was with, Noel always bowed his head and offered up a quick, silent prayer of gratitude for the Lord’s provision before his meals. He’d never truly gone hungry as a boy, and he knew that was more than some in his childhood community could say. His mother had made miracles happen in the kitchen with what little they had, often going without herself so that Bruno would have his fill. And Aunt Gigi had taken it upon herself to supplement Noel’s nutrition with afterschool snacks that were essentially full meals. Sure, there had been a lot of processed filler foods, but both women had grown large kitchen gardens, and he’d learned to eat his vegetables early on. He’d also learned to thank the women who prepared his food, and to thank the good Lord for providing the food for them to prepare.
But he noticed Addison pause, too, after she set her glass down. Sure, she could be waiting to see if he had everything he needed, but something in his spirit recognized it for what it was. Or what he hoped it might be. He took a chance. “Would you like me to say a blessing?”
“I—I’d like that,” she said, her stammer not one of nervousness, he decided, but of unexpected pleasure.
As Noel bowed his head, the savory aroma of his meal wafting around him, there was nothing ritualistic or trite about his prayer of gratitude. In a few heartfelt words, he thanked God for the delicious food, for Addison’s skill in the kitchen, and asked the Lord to be a part of every minute of their evening together. The prayer was short and simple, just as it usually was, but his heart overflowed with the knowledge that he was not alone in this world.
As he lifted his head, he realized that his shoulders were relaxed, his hands loose in his lap. This place, this woman, being here with her was a balm to his soul today. He smiled over at her, wishing he could tell her as much.
Across from him, Addison studied him, her gaze soft, evidently waiting for him to start first. Noel picked up his spoon. “This smells incredible, Addison.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, then they dug in, almost simultaneously.
It was, indeed, as delicious as it smelled. With the first spoonful of the soup, Noel closed his eyes and reveled in the flavors that filled his mouth. The broth was rich and spicy, but with a slight tang to it that gave him a juvenile desire to lift the bowl and drink the stuff. The vegetables were well-cooked but not mushy, and the ground beef was extra tender.
“This is not ‘just hamburger soup,’ Addison. And I already know this isn’t just grilled cheese.” He held up the thick slice of toasted bread with melted cheese on top, a thin slice of tomato in the center of it. “Would it be sacrilege to dip this?”
Addison laughed self-consciously. “Not at all. Although I can’t promise it won’t leave crumbs in your soup.”
Noel didn’t care about that. The combination of the buttery, yeasty bread, the aromatic roasted cheese, and whatever spread she’d put on it with the savory tang of the soup made him close his eyes again in wonder. “Wow,” he murmured when he’d swallowed the enormous bite he’d taken. “Just wow.”
“It’s not too spicy?” she asked, even though he thought it was obvious he didn’t find anything wrong with it. “I use cayenne pepper and smoked paprika in the soup, and sometimes it can be a little much. But I add some brown sugar to offset it. That’s Havarti cheese on the sandwich, one of my favorites, and instead of butter, I use homemade aioli. If you don’t like the tomato on top, just pull it off. I promise I won’t be offended. I hope it’s good.” She was, indeed, nervous, he realized. She had absolutely no reason to be.
“Perfect.” He set the open-faced sandwich down and wiped his fingers on his napkin. “I think this might be the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” he told her. And he meant it.
When she brought out the apple cobbler topped with creamy dulce de leche ice cream, Noel thought he’d just about died and gone to heaven. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe,” she told him. “On my mom’s side. My mom isn’t much of a cook, but she made sure I knew how to make Grandma’s apple cobbler the right way. And she insists that it’s best eaten with dulce de leche ice cream. It’s her favorite ice cream in the world, though, so she’ll eat it with anything. Or by itself.”
It truly was like no other cobbler he’d ever had before, and the ice cream did, indeed, pair perfectly with it. The Lux Solaris cobbler he’d thought was so good didn’t even hold a candle to Addison’s, and he effused so much about it that she finally threatened never to make it for him again if he didn’t stop.
They cleared the table and cleaned up the small kitchen, working effortlessly together like they’d been doing it for years. He was curious about her job, and she regaled him with crazy stories about some of the travelers she’d interacted with over the years at the regional airport.
Once they were settled on the sofa in Addison’s cozy living room, Noel brought up the subject of The World on Fire series he was reading. “It’s post-apocalypse stuff, and you may not like the genre, but have you heard of it?”
Addison’s eyes were bright as she listened to him. “I haven't just heard of it; I've read it,” she said with a nod. She set her coffee cup down on the coffee table in front of them and got up to circle the couch. From a bookshelf nearby, she pulled out two hardcover novels and hugged them to her chest. “You’re right in guessing that I’m not a huge post-apocalypse or sci-fi reader.” She plopped back into her corner of the sofa and set the books on the cushion between them. She leaned toward him, and put a hand to the side of her mouth as though divulging a secret. “But I happen to be tight with the author, so I took a chance on it. And wow. Am I glad I did.” She flipped open the cover of The World on Fire and nudged the book toward him.
“Wait. You’re saying that you know Arnold Archer personally?” Noel asked, staring wide-eyed down at the author’s signature. “Claire, right? Is that her name? At the bookstore here in town?" Addison nodded and he continued. "She said he was a local boy, but I didn’t realize just how local.” Was this Archer guy competition? The look on Addison’s face told him he might get a run for his money with the author.
Grinning broadly, Addison held up two fingers pressed together. “We’re like this.”
Hmm. He would not be jealous. He cleared his throat. “Is it a trilogy? Is there a third book yet?”
“A trilogy, yes. At least that’s what he says. I have a feeling his fans are going to want more, though. The third one isn’t out yet; Arnie says it’s supposed to release this fall, though. I can hardly wait. I’ll probably reread the first two books before then, just to be in the zone.” She eyed the empty mug he’d set down on the coffee table beside hers. “Would you like some more coffee?” She started to get up, but he stopped her with a hand on her knee.
“Wait a minute,” Noel said, staring down at the flyleaf again. “Tight with the author, you say? As in, how tight?” He pointed at the elegantly scrawled words on the page.