Chapter 16
Noelle
To my surprise, we don’t leave the Rolling Hills Ranch alone. We follow Enzo’s SUV down the hill and toward the iconic red bridge that stretches over the Quince River. “My Uncle Jude proposed to my Aunt Nora here,” Leif says as we hit the apex of iron span.
“What, on the sidewalk there?”
“Yeah. He stopped traffic. He was kind of a local icon—still is—and all these people slowed down to take pictures. He was in the newspaper.”
I laugh.
“And Cass’s husband proposed to her out there.” He points to one of the bigger sandbanks in the river, lined with trees.
I laugh, but I can picture it, somehow. Cass seems like she’d deserve a grand gesture.
“There are a lot of love stories in your family, aren’t there?”
“It’s in my genes.” He looks over at me and gives me that crooked grin, and the last shred of my resolve begins to melt.
In front of us, Enzo takes us down the riverfront, which is lined with a walkway overlooking the water. He parks close to that old, boarded-up church on the river downtown.
I suspect we’re going to that new restaurant with the huge patio across the street. It’s early for dinner, but I know from the small-talk I overheard on the sleigh that Enzo and his Dad’s property business bought a stake in it this summer.
“I think they mean a steak,” Leif had said. I laughed way too hard at his ridiculous dad joke.
As I get out of the car, I glance toward the church, feeling slightly wistful. “Remember when we talked about that place being a theater?” I ask.
Leif follows my gaze. “I still think it would have made a great one.”
“I was so sad when the for sale sign came down this summer.”
“It was the end of an era,” Leif says. “Apparently there was some kind of zoning issue that kept turning buyers away over the years.”
“It’s resolved now,” Enzo says, coming up behind us. Then he passes us, walking in the opposite direction of the restaurant, jingling a key ring.
I pause, confused.
Enzo smiles as Leif encourages me to follow. “My cousin says you’ve always been interested in this place—I happen to know the owner, and after Leif did a good amount of begging, I convinced him to let you take a peek.”
“Seriously?” I ask, my heart skipping.
“Begging?” Leif says.
Enzo looks at Leif. “Sorry. Threatening.” Then to me, he grins and says, “Seriously.”
That grin is like a lethal weapon. Too bad I like lopsided ones better.
I hook my arm through Leif’s, my stomach dancing with excitement.
“It’s a bit messy in here,” Enzo apologizes as he jiggles the key in the lock.
“It’s totally fine,” I say. “I’m just so grateful the owner doesn’t mind you doing this.”
Enzo pulls open the door. “He’s cool. He’s just holding the property for now. At some point he’ll probably fix it up and resell it. He usually makes housing, but I’m not sure about this place. It’s special.”
“It really is,” I whisper as we step into the vestibule. Immediately I feel a hole in my heart where I feel like this place could have gone.
As we cross through the second set of doors, the pulse of my heart echoes in my ears.
I don’t know why I feel like this. Even if it were still for sale, I wouldn’t have been able to afford it.
I knew; I’d looked up the listing several times over the years when I was still in New York.
Prime waterfront location. Beautiful old building, sturdy brick and gorgeous wood interior, which we look at now as we step through into the main area of the church, which Enzo calls the nave.
My breath hitches as I take it in. It smells musty, and it’s dark, but light streams in from the stained glass windows illuminating a vast, empty space. I picture actors moving across the elevated stage at the front.
“It’s one of the oldest buildings in town, if not the oldest,” Enzo says. “It hasn’t been a church in decades. Since the 1920s, as far as we can tell, and it’s passed through a few hands since then.”
I scan the chairs stacked against the walls. “Has it been anything since?”
“It was a dance hall for a bit. Then a daycare for about a decade in the 1980s. Nothing since then.”
I turn around in a circle in the empty space.
“It’s incredible.” There’s a balcony at the back, and space in the foyer where a ticket booth would be perfectly situated.
The elevated area at the front is enormous.
There’d be room for massive set decorations.
I wonder if there’s room for dressing rooms in the back… offices for the director…
When I turn back to Leif, my chest squeezes. He’s looking at me with such unabashed joy it makes my pulse quicken. I look away, embarrassed. He knows what I was thinking.
“You have a vision,” Enzo says.
“I’m sorry?” I stammer, suddenly embarrassed.
“I can always tell. Hazard of the job. What is it?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s already sold.”
“Tell him,” Leif says.
I bite my lip. Then grin. “Theater. A live theatre. It would be amazing.” I explain how it would work in one long, breathless stream of consciousness. Where everyone would go; the kind of seating that could be fit in here. Right down to building out the vestibule into a concession.
When I’m done, Leif’s grinning at me, making my insides all melty. “Sounds like exactly what this town could use,” he says.
Enzo looks like his mind is ticking. He may be goofy at times, and immature, but when it comes to his job, he’s a different person. I can tell he takes it seriously. After a moment, he smiles at me. “Want to see the back?”
Leif wraps his arm around my shoulder as we follow Enzo down a hallway to the left of the stage.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s fun to daydream.”
Leif doesn’t say anything, just kisses me on the top of the head as if we’re a couple. The unconscious gesture sends a trickle of sparks over the back of my neck.
“This part of the building was added on later,” Enzo says as we step into a little warren of offices. “The church itself was built around 1850 as far as we can tell, with this part built at the turn of the century.”
Most of the rooms are small and filled with stacked furniture and boxes.
But one of the rooms is much bigger than the rest. Maybe this would be where the concession could go.
I picture it filled with round velvet benches; maybe some tall tables.
Like the others, it’s got abandoned items inside.
But my eyes go to an unusual looking circular window on the far wall.
It’s about four feet in diameter, paned with glass, and looks into the trees.
The light’s already growing dim outside, but I can see the river, visible just beyond.
There’s something about that window that’s familiar.
“Was this place already used as a theater?” Leif asks.
I follow his gaze to a rack I thought held old coats, but I see now as Enzo tips a moth-eaten dress from it, that it’s a costume rack.
My skin tingles.
Enzo frowns at the dress. “Not that I know of. We haven’t really gone through everything in here though.”
I drag my eyes from the costumes back to that window. Where have I seen a round window like that before? The memory feels just out of reach.
Then I spot the boxes underneath. They’re filled with picture frames.
I crouch down and tip a few back. There are framed photos and newspaper articles about various community meetings and celebrations that look to have happened in this room.
This must have been the community space Enzo was talking about.
“What’s up here?” Leif asks. I turn to see he’s opened a doorway, which opens onto a set of steep stairs.
I hesitate to leave this room, but I’m curious about whatever’s up there too.
The stairs are steep, but the journey is worth it: Up top is a living space that’s bigger than my apartment. A kitchen on one side, wood stove on the other, and on the far back wall, windows overlooking the river.
The room has no furniture, though there are boxes and tubs lining one of the walls. These look like more recent additions—maybe the owner’s storage.
“Does that work?” Leif asks, pointing to the wood stove.
“Yeah. There’s wood over there.” He points to a covered plywood box next to the stove.
He folds his arms and makes a clicking sound with his teeth. “Well, that’s about it, unless you want to see the basement. The ceilings are low and it’s creepy as hell. Kind of damp and full of cobwebs.”
Leif grimaces but looks at me expectantly.
“I can hold off on that part. Though I wouldn’t mind looking through that stuff downstairs a bit more, if it’s okay? There’s a lot of history in this place.”
“I actually have to run,” Enzo says, and I try to squash the disappointment that immediately rushes through me.
Enzo shrugs. “But you guys are welcome to hang out for a bit.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice brightening. I hesitate. I should tell him it’s fine. It’s just my curiosity, but I want to stay. “You’re sure?”
“Of course. The owner’s very chill.”
Enzo waves, giving Leif a pointed look I can’t quite interpret, then takes off down the stairs, leaving me and Leif alone.
For a moment, I feel a surprising rush of nerves now that it’s just the two of us.
“I didn’t ask you if you were okay to stay,” I say.
“I’m good. I don’t have anything planned for the next month, honestly.”
He is here early.
“Do you know who the owner is?” I ask. “You think they’d mind if I poked around?”
“No,” Leif says. “I mean, I don’t think they’d mind, because I’m pretty sure it’s my uncle Eli.”
“What?”
“He always talked about how this place would be amazing if someone had an idea for how to turn it into something. I think he thought about using it for a concert hall for my aunt Reese. But it’s way too small for the kinds of crowds she still pulls.
” He walks over to the boxes against the wall.
“I think we’ll know for sure in a second. ”
He takes down a tub marked camping gear, setting it aside to access another one labelled baby photos.
“Eli and Reese’s basement flooded last year, which would explain the need for storage.
” He lifts off the lid, pulling out a photo of a very chubby toddler with curly hair and a very recognizable smile.
I laugh. “Enzo.”
“There’s his sister.” He pulls out another photo. “And me.”
I take the photo from him—an adorable pre-school aged boy on a tricycle strains hard to pedal the bike, which has a rope tied to its back. Attached to the rope is Enzo, balancing on a skateboard.
I laugh hard at that one.
“That was before I figured out basic physics,” Leif says.
We go through more of the photos: one with the whole family at Christmas, the kids all opening presents. Leif’s in the background, sitting in front of his father, gazing in wonder at a spaceship as his dad beams on.
“It was pretty sweet what your dad said today,” I say softly.
Leif doesn’t take his eyes off the photo. “Yeah. I’ve been a dick to him for years.”
“I’ve never seen you be a dick, Leif. And you definitely weren’t today.”
At the end of the sleigh ride, Leif had given his father a hug, and I’d seen the way his eyes were wet. They made plans to meet up to hang out a couple of days from now. Just the two of them.
Leif shakes his head. “All these years—I was being selfish.”
“He said himself he should have spent more time at home, didn’t he?” I remember Leif telling me that years ago.
“Yeah, but he did spend time with me. I have lots of good memories too. I had to remember that they were there, outnumbering the disappointments.”
I lean my head on Leif’s shoulder, staring at the photograph in his hand. “It’s hard to remember our parents are whole people sometimes,” I say.
Leif goes slightly stiff under me, and I sit up again, wondering if I’ve misread all of our closeness. But he turns so he’s facing me. When he looks in my eyes, my whole body zings with electricity.
“Thank you,” he says, taking my hands.
“What for?”
“For always encouraging me to talk to him. Even if I was too chickenshit to do it before.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t do anything, Leif. I was just being a friend.”
“Is that what we are?”
I laugh nervously. “Are we going to go right there?”
“I know you’ve been thinking over what to tell me. It was all over your face earlier.”
My heart pounds. “You’ve always been able to see right through me.”
“I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
The words are a gut punch, and I desperately want to take them back, even though I never said them.
“But now…” Leif runs a thumb along my jaw. “I don’t think you’re thinking that now.”
“Some part of me is, Leif. Some part clinging to logic says we shouldn’t. That it’s too hard to keep doing this once a year thing.”
“I agree.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Let’s not keep doing it.”
My breath catches.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, sliding his hands down to either side of my neck, his thumbs on my jaw.
“What’s that?”
“You want me to kiss you.”
I laugh softly, but it gets swallowed up by my sudden need for him. Deep and rich and thick, consuming me like fire. “You got cocky up there,” I say. I’m teasing him, but my voice is unsteady. He has all the power right now, and I’m weak for it.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Noelle.”
I shake my head, then he drops his lips to mine.