31. Addison
31
Addison
T he book was a collection of images of the American manual labor workforce called This Land is Our Land. In it, her parents had captured stirring images of hardworking men and women engaged in jobs such as farming, construction, railroad, plumbing, mining, millwork, and more. Many of the images were paired with pictures of the same workers lounging on their front porches or gathered around a meal, sitting in church with their families, or walking a dog. It was visually stunning in a completely different way than was Edge of the World, the book about Iceland, and what made it extra special—and extra personal—to Addison was that her parents had included some of her own photos in it.
Before she’d stopped taking pictures.
The book always stirred up a maelstrom of mixed emotions in her. There was a wave of pride when she saw her name in the credits, always followed by that hollowed out feeling in the pit of her stomach when she showed anyone else the images. Her photos were taken from a girl’s perspective and captured slices of life with a whole different flavor than the ones her parents took. While the majority of the subjects that Carl and Vivian shot were adults, Addison spent her time taking pictures of other children. Every once in a while, the scenes overlapped, and the lives of her subjects would intersect the lives of her parents’ subjects. Those photos were often quite telling, especially when caught on camera by Addison.
Because when she would take pictures with her point-and-shoot digital camera, the characters being photographed rarely even noticed she was there. Addison kept to the sidelines while her parents worked front and center. She witnessed the behind-the-scenes tableaus, the background images, the stuff in the corners or brushed under the rug.
It was one of the photos in This Land is Our Land that had ended her fascination of taking pictures. It was an image that made her secretly proud, one that often garnered a visceral response from viewers in the same way it had in her at the moment she’d captured the shot.
But that’s what it had been—a moment captured in time—and the moment had been a lie of the worst kind. When the lie had been exposed, Addison had stood frozen on the sidelines, too frightened to move, and intensely ashamed of her fear and self-preservation. When she’d finally found the courage to step forward, it had been too late.
She’d done it again. She could hardly believe it. She’d stood frozen on the sidelines while Noel—the man this time, not the boy he’d been back then—had pushed to his feet and fled the scene.
She hadn’t even tried to stop him. And now, she knew it was too late. She knew he wouldn’t answer her calls or respond to her texts. She knew he wouldn’t show up on her doorstep with another plant. She knew he wouldn’t spend another day on the lake with her family and friends… with people who’d quickly become his friends, too. She knew he wouldn’t come to her ticket counter for his boarding pass. In fact, she knew he’d do everything possible to avoid ever having to engage with her again.
And she knew that it was all her fault.
What she hadn’t known was that the man she’d been falling so hard for over the last few months was none other than the boy whose tragic past she’d immortalized forever on that fateful night so long ago. Somehow, she’d missed it. She’d been so caught up in the here and now that she hadn’t connected the dots.
Noel had said he came from a mining family when they talked about Arnie’s books. Although he’d been reticent to discuss any details, Noel had made it clear that he had a broken relationship with his father. He’d told her about going through anger management therapy to deal with some of those issues, and he’d taken full responsibility for his part in the situation at Carpe Diem with John Sheridan.
But it was his eyes that should have given him away. She should have recognized him instantly the first time she looked into those deep, dark eyes across her ticket counter. When Noel, the boy, had locked gazes with her, his face smeared with dirt and the blood he’d swiped across his cheek from his split lip, it had been more than her camera that had captured that image. His eyes had pierced right through to the core of who she was, and even after all these years, she still sometimes dreamed about those moments, her mind conjuring up scenarios of what might have been.
How had she missed it?
Of course, Vivian had recognized him. And Addison couldn’t even be angry with her mother, even though she’d begged her not to bring out the book. All Vivian had intended was to bring to light the remarkable coincidence that photo represented, that they’d already met. And to show off her daughter’s keen eye behind the camera, of course.
Addison had only been resistant to showing Noel the book because that time in her life—those images, in particular—had been such a monumental turning point for her. She hadn’t been sure she was ready yet to share those most intimate parts of who she was, of who she’d been, with him. She’d thought it better to wait until he was ready to share his past with her, too.
Addison had no idea that she already knew far more about that part of his past than she could have imagined.
Ironically, the section of the book that included that photo had focused on extractive industries such as mining, quarrying, and the extraction of mineral fuels, and was appropriately titled Beneath the Surface. But Addison had never told her parents what lay beneath the surface of that picture.
She crouched down and began gathering up the Scrabble tiles that had been scattered in the melee.
Carl helped her, then returned to his seat, his face a mask of concern. “Please sit, sweetie." He offered her a hand, helping her to stand. "What just happened?” he asked, his usual affable nature markedly subdued. On the other side of the table, her mother still clutched the book against her body, her brow furrowed in thought.
Addison sighed and sank into the chair abandoned by Noel. She took a sip from the glass of ice water he'd left behind, her own thoughts still working at hyperspeed to put all the puzzle pieces together.
Then she told them. She told them about the monster hiding behind the disguise of a hero, about the brute who’d backhanded a child with such ferocity, and left him lying bleeding and motionless in the dirt. “That picture I took was a lie,” she said, her voice breaking on the last syllable, and then she began to weep. Through her sobs, she went on, “I think—no, I know— that horrible, horrible beast of a man is Noel’s father. I know it is. And I—I did nothing to stop him. I was shocked, stunned. Angry, too.” She coughed to try to open up her airway as the words poured out of her. “I—I was horrified by what that man did right in front of me, but I was frozen in place by fear. I’d never seen an adult do anything like that to a child before. I—I just couldn’t move.”
Her parents were there on either side of her, their arms around her, folding her into a cocoon of tender solace, but it only made Addison feel claustrophobic. She squirmed out of their embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’re just trying to comfort me, but I’m not the one who needs comforting.”
“Oh, Addie,” her mother murmured as she pulled her chair around the table so that she could sit close, but not touching. “This whole situation is awful for everyone involved. Your poor, tender little heart. No wonder you put away your cameras. I should have known there was something you weren’t telling us.”
“But that’s just it,” Addison declared, her voice rising along with her self-loathing. “I never told—never told anyone,” she stammered. “I stood there and watched it happen, then I let him—let Noel—get up and leave without helping him.” She took the paper napkin her father handed her and blew her nose, not caring if it was clean or not. She was crying so hard that it was getting difficult to breathe and talk at the same time. “And then I was too ashamed of myself to tell anyone what I’d seen. I just walked away from the whole thing—from taking pictures. From him. From Noel.” His name came out on a sob. “And I tried to forget it had happened.”
Her father, she could tell, was at a complete loss. He didn’t try to hug her again, and she was glad. She didn’t feel worthy of their unconditional love at that moment, especially in light of what she now knew about the atrocity she’d been a witness to. But he rested his large hand on her shoulder, and the weight of it gave her a measure of comfort.
“Noel didn’t get to forget it ever happened. He couldn’t just walk away, could he?” She blew her nose again, but it didn’t seem to be making much of a difference. “He’s had to live with that—that monster his whole life, while I just put my cameras away, closed the stupid book, and put it all out of my mind.”
“You were so young, Addie,” her mother began.
“So was he,” she shot back.
“You didn’t understand what was happening,” Vivian tried again.
“But I did. I saw that man hit that child. There was no misunderstanding on my part. I was just ashamed of myself. That’s the only reason I didn’t say anything. I just abandoned him, Mom. I could have done something, and I chose not to.”
Her mother, with uncharacteristic tears streaking her cheeks, slid closer and took her daughter into her arms, refusing to let go even when she tried to resist. Finally, Addison gave in and sagged against her, sobbing into her shoulder. Then her father was there, too, kneeling on the floor beside them again, cradling them both to him.
It was a while before the three of them managed to gather themselves into a semblance of order. Together, they cleaned up the little kitchen, then her father made a pot of chamomile and lavender tea while the women made themselves comfortable on the loveseat. “Something to settle the spirit,” he said, handing first Addison a cup, then his wife. He lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the floor at one end of the coffee table, close enough to rest a hand on his daughter’s knee.
“What do I do now?” she asked her parents, hoping they’d give her the answers she didn’t have. “Do you think I should go over there and try to talk to him?” As she’d suspected, he hadn’t replied to the concerned text she’d sent, nor had he answered her call. “I’m so worried about him.”
Carl patted her leg. “I think you need to give him a little time, honey. Your message gave him quite a lot to chew on,” he added wryly.
“Oh, please don’t remind me,” she whimpered, closing her eyes in embarrassment. Her text had been simple: Noel, please let me know you’re okay, that you made it back to your suite safely. I’ll try calling again in the morning, but you can call me any time before then, even if it’s 3 in the morning.
It was the message she’d left on his voicemail that had her squirming uncomfortably and hugging one of the throw cushions tightly to her stomach in an effort to quash the butterflies playing dodgeball in her gut. “Noel, it’s Addison. I’m so sorry about the way things happened tonight. I’m sorry I just let you leave, that I didn’t come after you. Both tonight and… and back then. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize who you were. I didn’t, Noel. I swear I didn’t. I couldn’t see that boy in the man I lo—I love today. How can I possibly make amends? How do I make this right? Please call me. Please. I do love you, Noel. So much.” And then, before she could change her mind and erase it all, she’d ended the call.
Of course, two seconds later, she’d been in tears again, regretting every word she’d said, and wondering what on earth he must think of her.
“Your father is right, Addie. Give him time.” Vivian reached over and tucked a curl behind her daughter’s ear. “I saw the way he looked at you. He’ll be back; I know he will. It might just take him some time to realize that he can’t live without you.”
“But what if I give him time, and he realizes that he can live without me?”
Carl shook his head. “I saw the way he looked at you, too, honey. And believe me, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Not many fathers are when they see a man look at his daughter that way.” He gave her a careful grin. “He may not be ready to admit it yet, but he’s a goner where you’re concerned. I’d bet my Nikon Z9 and my 600 mm f/4 TC lens.”
“Dad!” The camera was one of the most highly-valued professional models on the market, and the lens he’d included was more than twice as much. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“I’m pretty sure of your young man, daughter of mine.”
Addison went to bed comforted by the indefatigable love of her parents, but she lay awake long hours into the night, praying for the whole awful situation they’d found themselves in. She added her regular request for a change of heart in John Sheridan and Paula Swinton, too. She desperately wanted Noel to keep his job, for his sake, but also for her sake. He couldn’t very well avoid her if he was going to stay in a small town like Autumn Lake. Eventually, they’d run into each other, and now that he knew she loved him… “Well, there’s no taking it back now, is there, God?” she whispered into the dark.