Chapter 34 It All Comes Crumbling Down
Despite Kara’s insistence that I wouldn’t need more than a few hours to get set up, I was up before the sun and dressed in another set of grubby work clothes with a bag packed with what I’ll wear for the actual party.
Our efforts yesterday did pave the way for setting up and decorating this afternoon, but I am determined to make sure everything is perfect.
Announcing that Noah and I are dating is one thing, but showing him the place that built me is another thing entirely and I don’t want to fuck it up.
As I pull my keys out and unlock the doors for the second time, it still feels unreal.
Even when I’m elbow deep in cleaning supplies and taking the bathrooms from horror movie to well-loved, I’m buzzing with how incredible everything is.
The hours are marked by the number of buckets full of dirty water I dump in the kitchen’s utility sink, and before I know it we’re in the final hour before the party is set to begin.
Henrietta arrives first, dressed in a vintage polka dot dress, her hair freshly styled. She whistles as she steps through the doors.
“Lottie, look at you! I wasn’t sure what to think when Kara told me what was happening, but my god you’re really doing it.”
“I am,” I say, beaming.
“What can I do?”
“The counter could probably use another wipe down. I think Kara said the food should be here about six fifteen, and I want to have a place to put everything.”
She nods, and slouches out of her jacket before grabbing a pack of wipes. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to find a message from Noah, with a selfie of him standing at the florist, holding an excessive bouquet.
Noah
Think Nan will accept me if I bring these or should I opt for wine instead?
Lottie
Flowers are a little much, but she’ll adore them.
Noah
Still ready for me at seven?
Lottie
Yes. Don’t be late.
Noah
Wouldn’t dream of it.
“Looks like it’s about time. You should go change,” Henrietta says, nodding towards the front windows. Greg and Flora, two of Nan’s church friends, are helping each other up the curb. Flora has a casserole dish propped in her arm.
“Everyone ignored the part of the invite that said no potluck dishes didn’t they?”
Henrietta laughs on her way to open the door for them. “We are creatures of habit.”
I grab the extra clothes I packed this morning—a black top and my favorite jeans—as well as my makeup bag.
My stomach is a ball of nerves as I change.
Noah should be arriving soon, Kara and Nan only about thirty minutes behind him.
My hair is a lost cause—tangled and sweat soaked— so I opt to pull it into a top knot.
After a swipe of mascara and some lip balm, I look tired but presentable.
When I step out of the bathrooms and tuck my clothes away in the boxes of supplies stashed in the hallway, my chest warms at the sound of people greeting and gathering around the corner.
With a deep breath, I step out to find about half a dozen more people have arrived—all of them having ignored the invitation's mention of us providing the food.
I’m arranging the casserole dishes and bowls of fruit salad when the bell above the door chimes again.
Noah, with golden sunset rays at his back, stands in the doorway and I nearly melt into a puddle.
The massive bouquet clutched in his hand is even more absurd than it looked in the picture, but I’m already lost in the grin on his face.
His eyes sweep the space, his smile deepening further and he crosses the floor in a few long strides, setting the flowers on the counter and kissing me lightly on the cheek.
“Look at you! Look at what you’ve done.”
I am beaming, pure joy thrumming under my skin. Noah is here and he likes the diner. Whatever happens tomorrow, or next week, or next month; none of it will be able to diminish the glow of this moment.
“Just wait till you see what I have planned.”
“It’s incredible, Lottie. Perfect. You did great. And hosting Nan’s party here was the perfect cover. Although I should confess, Laura spoiled part of the surprise. She sent me the listing and the proposed offer just before I called you the other night.”
Confusion sweeps through me into my toes. Offer? Why would Laura have sent Noah my offer? Aside from listing him as my employer on my application with the bank, his name shouldn’t have been anywhere near it.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The space. It’s perfect. The location, the big windows. A few weeks of renovations and it will be even better than the original spot. I can’t wait to see your ideas. I don’t know how you did it, or how you kept it quiet, but I am impressed. Thoroughly and utterly blown away.”
“What are you talking about? Why would Laura have sent you my offer?”
Noah frowns. “I mean, I don’t mean to pull rank here, but it would be a little unorthodox for an account manager to sign the paperwork when purchasing real estate. That’s sort of my job.”
I step back, light headed and a little sick. What is he talking about?
“Noah, this is Nan’s Diner. This isn’t a location for Flourish. The surprise is me buying it and revamping it. I spent the last two days scrubbing the fucking floors and buffing the windows. That’s the surprise. Laura must have . . .”
How the fuck did she get this confused? How did this happen? What is even happening?
“What are you talking about?”
I stutter. “What am I talking about? What the hell are you talking about? You can’t have this.”
My cheeks are hot, my voice growing in volume and pulling attention from a few other people.
In an effort to save face, I grab Noah’s arm and tug him back into the kitchen.
It’s disgusting back here, given how our cleaning stayed in the front of the building but I barely notice, shock blinding me to everything except the pursuit of an answer.
Spinning to face him I keep my voice low, but emotion rolls through each word.
“I don’t understand what is happening.”
Noah stands there, his brow pinched in confusion. “You didn’t scout this location for Flourish?”
“No. I didn’t. This is the diner I grew up in. My childhood house is like four blocks from here. This is Nan’s old place.”
He runs his hands over his face. “Shit, Lottie. I had no idea.”
“God, how did Laura get this so fucked up?”
“I promise I am going to do everything I can to help you find a new place. I swear it.”
I stop cold, my confusion twisting into sharp anger. “I’m not finding a new place. This is it. This is the place.”
“The papers are already signed.”
“What fucking papers? What are you talking about?”
“This morning. Laura sent me the contracts and the closing documents. She said you had the keys. I signed them, Lottie. Bryant signed them. Matt fucking signed them. Flourish owns this building.”
“Then unfucking sign them. Take it back. Call her right now. Where’s my phone?”
I move to step past him, reaching for an actionable thing. Something I can do to bring some logic to whatever the hell this is. Noah grabs my arm.
“I can’t just unsign them. There are people counting on this to work out, money already moving to make this happen.”
I spin around. “And I’m telling you, I’m counting on you to undo this. This isn’t just another building in a great walkable neighborhood. This is Nan’s Diner. This is my diner.”
Hot tears are streaming down my face, my chest caught in a vice like pressure.
“I—I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
His face answers for me. He won’t. This is the best—or at the very least has the potential to be the best. Words start scrolling through my brain like a news cast ticker tape.
Few weeks of renovations. Perfect windows.
Walkable location. Perfect for Flourish.
He’s going to gut this place, destroy what stands to make room for what could be. Just like he tried to do with me.
“Lottie . . .”
“Fuck off, Noah.”
“Just give me a second to think.”
“No. I’m tired. I’m tired of giving and giving.
Give you a chance, you said. Give you a day.
Give you tomorrow. Trust you, because you were safe.
I did that. And look what it fucking got me.
I’m the one losing here. I’m the one who needs a second.
Not you. If you can’t see that, if you can’t see how utterly fucked this is, then not only are you more like your father than I ever thought you could be, we have no fucking business together. ”
My chest is heaving with the ultimatum cast at his feet, and his face crumples under my insult. It was low for me to put him on equal footing with his father, but I can’t bring myself to backtrack.
“Lottie—”
“Don’t.”
I spin out of the kitchen, letting the door slam behind me.
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I scan the guests milling about and snacking on a fruit and cheese platter someone laid out.
The pizza delivery guy is pushing in and Henrietta is directing him to stack the boxes on the counter.
Everything is going just like I planned, but the sight of it makes me sick.
It’s ruined.
Sniffing, I keep to the wall and find my way back towards the bathroom where my bag is stashed.
My phone is ringing, the sound of it mostly camouflaged by the party unfolding behind me.
I pull it out just as it goes to voicemail, the screen lighting up with too many notifications.
Twenty missed calls and a few dozen text messages from Kara.
Ignoring a message from Noah, sent right before he walked in and ripped my dream from my raw, bleach burned fingertips, I tap on the first voicemail.
“Lottie. It’s Kara. God you already know that. Something’s happened to Nan. I’m waiting on the paramedics now. Call me back.”
My blood chills and I tap the next one. “Hey, they have her loaded up, and she regained consciousness when they put her in the ambulance. I really need you to call me back.”
“We’re headed to St. Joseph’s. Call me. Please.”
I don’t wait for the next message, or bother redialing; I run out to the party and scan for Henrietta. Her face falls from joy to panic when she sees me.
“I need your keys. Something happened to Nan. I have to go.”
“Oh,” she says, standing and rushing to her purse. “Oh my.”
Noah steps out of the kitchen, lowering his phone from his ear. God dammit. I figured he left. Wished it even.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Go home Noah. This doesn’t concern you. This isn’t Flourish’s business.”
“Hey, let me—”
“Fuck off.”
Henrietta flinches at my curse, but she offers her keys and I leave without explaining or looking back.