Chapter 15
Nora
As soon as we make it back to Elias’s house, it’s back to business.
Now that I have a plan and a timeline, everything seems a lot more manageable.
We spend the rest of the afternoon and into the evening cleaning up inside Grandma’s cottage.
It gets dark all too quickly and we’re forced to quit for the night.
After my shower, and once I’m dressed in comfortable loungewear, I find Elias busy in the kitchen.
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask as he rummages through his fridge.
“Just seeing what fixings I have for burgers,” he says with a grunt. “I’m going to start the grill out back and then run to the store. Keep an eye on it so my house doesn’t burn down while I’m gone, yeah?”
I smother a laugh. “Yeah. I think I can manage.”
As soon as he leaves, I grab a notebook and slip on my sandals before heading out onto the pack patio. The smoky smell of the grill makes my stomach grumble. We stuffed ourselves at lunch but I’m already hungry again. All this physical work and sweating non-stop really works up an appetite.
It’s strange to think how many meals I missed while working in the city. I’d get so wrapped up on what I was doing on the computer that I wouldn’t eat. That certainly doesn’t happen in Budgie Bay. I’m hungry all the time.
I bypass the grill and make my way over to the aviary.
I’m relieved to see Elias has put the key back.
He’d been rude about me going in with the birds, like I was going to accidentally let them escape.
A couple of days ago, I’d have thought he was just a controlling jerk.
But now I see past his gruff exterior. It’s because he cares.
I’d expected him to put up some sort of fight when I mentioned re-homing the budgies, but he said nothing. I don’t fault him for it. They’re a lot of work and he’s been taking care of them for who knows how long for Grandma.
Inside the aviary, I’m greeted first by the one named Frodo.
He jumps onto my notebook when I open it and tries to eat the paper.
I laugh and he chirps in annoyance at me.
Maybe I could take both him and Clo back with me to New York.
So Clo doesn’t get lonely. I know these birds prefer to have a friend.
The other budgies all start happily chirping along with Frodo. Some of them munch on their millet while others stretch their wings. They’re all so content to be here. I feel sort of guilty about taking them away from their home.
“I could ask Elias,” I say to Frodo. “Maybe he wants to keep the whole gang here.”
Frodo tries to yank my pen out of my hand.
“Grandma wouldn’t want to rehome you all, but she also didn’t have a life back in New York. I don’t really have any other choice.”
The birds all chirp and sing, their attention solely on me, as if they’re communicating their wishes to me. Too bad I don’t speak budgie. It’d be a lot easier if I knew exactly what to do.
I take the time to write down how many birds there are, what I think the sex and age is of each one, and a small description about them. Then, I take some pictures of each one. I’ll have to see if there’s a social media page or something for Budgie Bay so I can get the word out about these birds.
Eventually, I have enough information to build a profile for each one. I talk to every budgie, and a yellow one even lets me hold her. By the time I finish, I note Elias has returned and is manning the grill.
The scent of cooking hamburgers reaches my nose as I close the aviary door and double check that it’s locked securely. My stomach grumbles in appreciation. One of Elias’s good qualities is that he cooks often and cooks well. He’s going to make his future wife happy one day.
“Smells delicious,” I tell him as I approach. “Didn’t you eat a burger at lunch?”
He laughs and shrugs up one shoulder. “I like burgers and eat them a lot. Don’t tell my mom.”
I grin as I watch him flip the burgers. They sizzle and crackle, sending more amazing aroma my way.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Almost done here,” he says and then sweeps his gaze over my notebook. “What’s that?”
“I was profiling the budgies,” I explain as I perch on the arm of the patio chair. “To rehome them.”
His lips thin out and his eyebrows pinch together. “You move fast.”
“I think it’s normal speed. Not everyone works in turtle mode like you.”
He snorts. “Turtle mode. Are you calling me slow?”
“You drive five under the speed limit at all times.”
“My best friend’s the sheriff. What can I say?” He gestures at the house with his spatula. “Want to get the table set?”
I step back inside and drop my notebook off in the bedroom. Clo sees me, squawks happily, and flies over to my shoulder. I sing him songs I make up along the way while I set the table. I’m feeling more relaxed and content than any other moment since I stepped foot off the airplane.
And, as if on cue, my phone rings.
Denver.
“Why is he calling?” I ask Clo, a flare of irritation burning through me.
Clo cocks his head to the side as he listens to my ringtone. Since I can’t ignore Denver forever, I sigh and answer the phone.
“I can’t talk long. About to eat dinner,” I say quickly upon answering. “What’s up?”
He’s quiet for a beat. “Hello to you too, Nora.”
“Hi.” I stifle a sigh. “Sorry. It’s been a long, tiring day.”
“Apology accepted. How are you?”
There’s an awkwardness between us that never before existed. Resentment still curdles in my belly. I wish I would have stood up for myself and come to the funeral. Should have, could have, would have. Hindsight is 20/20.
“I’m okay,” I tell him truthfully. “Spent all day going through Grandma’s cottage. Found some letters she wrote to my grandpa and—”
“What about us?” he blurts out, cutting me off mid-sentence. “How are we doing?”
My chest tightens. “Not good, Denver.”
“Tell me what I can do to fix it.”
Bitterness rears its ugly head. For one, he could let me finish telling my story. Prioritize me for once. But do I say this to him? Nope.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I say in a chilly tone. “You always do.”
“Babe—”
“I’m plucking starving,” Elias booms as he enters the kitchen, a plate of steaming burgers on a plate.
“Who’s that?” Denver demands on the other line. “Are you having dinner with a man?”
The accusation in his words makes my blood boil. So I don’t say anything cruel, I blurt out that we can talk later before ending the call abruptly.
Elias hikes up an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”
“How can you tell?”
He sets the plate down in the middle of the table and then offers a finger for Clo to hop onto. “You get the same pinched expression whenever you speak about him.”
I force my features to relax. He’s right, though.
“He doesn’t listen to me,” I grumble as I plop down in a kitchen chair. “Sorry. You don’t care.”
Elias blinks at me. “You putting words in my mouth?”
“So, you do care?” I scoff at his words.
He pulls a chair out and then folds his massive frame into it. I fidget, waiting for him to answer my question. Without any sort of hurry, he sets to slapping mayonnaise and ketchup on his bun. I’m about to blow a gasket when he finally speaks again.
“We’re partners,” he says simply as he assembles his burger. “That means we need to know about each other.”
It’s not the “I care” I was secretly hoping for, but it does calm me. My rigid spine relaxes.
“So,” Elias says, lifting his burger. “Tell me about your boyfriend.”
For the next hour, I word vomit everything about Denver. The good stuff. How we met. What attracted me to him. The sweet things he’s done in the past. But, somewhere along the way, it evolves into the things that annoy me. Things that hurt my feelings.
“Grandma’s funeral changed things,” I admit, voice shaky. “I didn’t realize how much until I came to Budgie Bay and am not constantly in his presence.”
Elias doesn’t speak, and for once, I’m okay with his slow response. We clean up the kitchen in amicable silence. Once done, he leans against the countertop and pins me with a penetrating stare that makes me squirm.
“He sounds like a real winner,” he says with a shrug.
I roll my eyes. I waited fifteen minutes for that response?
“Technically he is,” I rush out, flustered. “He’s worth millions. His family is worth billions.”
Elias, unimpressed, continues to stare at me. “So?”
“So, that makes him a winner.”
“Money doesn’t make people awesome. Your grandpa was a fisherman, and your grandma was so in love with him. Dad’s a construction guy and Mom thinks he’s wonderful. Just saying money isn’t everything.”
I think about my own mom and her boyfriend, Ron. She likes what he can give her, but deep down, she doesn’t love him. Not like her mother loved her father.
“I’m not judging,” Elias says, features softening slightly. “I’m just saying he doesn’t seem like such a great guy. Who encourages their girlfriend to miss her grandma’s funeral?”
I want to defend Denver, but I can’t, because I agree with Elias. In my moment of weakness, I wish Denver would have been strong for me. Instead, he was rather selfish and chose work over my mental wellbeing. I’ve been spiraling ever since. How does Denver not see that?
“Tomorrow’s a big day,” I say, not meeting his probing stare. “Utilities. More cleaning. I’m going to work on the book before bed. Thanks for listening to me vent.”
Elias takes a step toward me and my heart rate speeds up. For a second, I wonder if he’ll hug me. To be honest, I could use a hug about now. I stiffen and wait for him to envelop me in his strong arms.
The sloth of a man remains utterly still. His eyes burn with intensity, but he doesn’t move an inch. I fidget, huff, and fidget some more.
“Goodnight, Elias.”
Clo chirps and flies over to my shoulder. I’m not sure if Elias says anything back to me because I’m already halfway to the guest room. Once the door is closed behind me and I drop Clo off at his cage, I feel like I can breathe normally again.
I wanted him to hug me.
It’s not lost on me that I wanted my Budgie Bay nemesis to comfort me rather than my own boyfriend. This is just another reason why I need to bring closure to my grandma’s life and get back to my own.
Whether it involves Denver, that’s to be determined.
I grab Grandma’s laptop and then cozy up in the bed with it.
The strange urge to hug Elias and the change in how I feel about Denver are too much to think about right now.
I’d rather read what I can about her love story.
It seems so pure and intense. Something worth digging into and trying to understand.
I get lost in reading some of her early Budgie Bay Gazette lifestyle columns. After a few, I realize she ends them all the same way.
The strawberries are ripe and ready for picking, Amos. Grab some chocolate on the way home.
My heart aches at her words. I can almost see her typing them, a tear streaking down her cheek, and a toddler asleep on her chest. There was hope that he’d be back, and through her letters, postcards, and columns, she kept his memory fresh and alive.
That kind of love is tangible and real.
It’s something I realize I want for myself.
It’s something Denver hasn’t been able to give me, and I don’t think he ever will.