Chapter 16
Elias
I’m pretty sure I ticked Nora off last night. I don’t regret telling her that her boyfriend is a piece of schnitzel, because he is. My feelings haven’t changed on that.
I do, however, feel bad about ruining the end of her day.
It was nice, with our new partnership, though, to have her tell me a little about her life.
What I didn’t expect was to enjoy it so much and want to know more.
When she’s talking about something that brings her joy, her whole face lights up and her blue eyes flicker with excitement.
Alternatively, when she’s talking about the sad or frustrating things in her life, her eyebrows pinch and her shoulders curl inward.
She’s expressive. It makes reading her a heck of a lot easier.
And why do you want to read her?
I’m curious, dagnabbit.
“Dagnabbit?” A giggle erupts from the passenger seat of my truck.
I let loose an exaggerated sigh, annoyed with myself that I said it out loud. “Goldie bleached my brain.”
She giggles again and my chest tightens. “Grandma was full of sass. There was no getting anything past her. All those summers I came to stay, there was always something she was getting after me about.”
“Try living with her day in and day out. It was easier to modify my language than to listen to her lectures about it.”
We get stuck in an early-morning traffic jam on the way to the post office.
When we get close to the accident, a big truck carrying bird seed and millet comes into view.
It’s on its side and the contents have been spilled onto the road.
The police, including Monroe, are helping redirect the traffic as the fire department does their best to get the mess cleaned up.
Seagulls have found the wreckage and are dive-bombing the firefighters.
When Monroe sees my truck, he trots over to it. I roll down the window and he leans in.
“We’re trying to get to the post office,” I say with a grunt. “What’s the ETA on this?”
“It’s going to be a while,” Monroe says. “Your best bet is to go back home for a few hours.”
“We don’t have a few hours,” Nora blurts out, panic in her voice. She leans closer to me so she can see Monroe and her warm breath tickles over my arm. “I have to get my utilities turned back on.”
He nods in understanding. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do to make this go any faster. You’ve got a place to stay still, right?”
She blows out a breath of air. “Yeah.”
“Can you call me when this clears out?” I ask, wanting to get past all this so Nora can giggle some more.
Really, man?
I’m not sure how or when I went from extremely agitated at this woman to enjoying her presence, but it’s happened. I’m not a fan.
“Sure thing,” he says and then nods at Nora.
We’re quiet as I use the parking lot to turn around. I can tell Nora is anxious, so I go ahead and address what she’s likely worrying about.
“You can stay with me for as long as you need,” I state, keeping my eyes on the road. “I know the utilities are causing you a lot of stress. Let’s just focus on what we can control.”
She doesn’t say anything for a beat and then says, “Thank you. That helps, actually.”
I drive us back to my house. We grab our gear and head over to her grandma’s.
Once we get the AC back on, this will be a lot less miserable.
Until then, we work independently, going through trash and sorting items of importance.
There’s a lot that we can keep to “stage” the house.
I know my mother and in order for her to sell a cute bayside cottage like Goldie’s, she’ll want to keep some of the furniture and décor that gives it its charm.
While I work on the practical stuff, Nora goes through the personal things. Those items go into boxes for Nora to keep or go through later.
When Nora lets loose an ear-piercing scream, I drop an end table on the tip of my boot. I ignore the throbbing pain of my big toe as I rush to the back of the house. I’m not sure if she ran into a critter like a bat or a rat or worse, a Harker.
“Nora,” I call out, breath heaving, and voice slightly panicked. “What’s wrong?”
At my arrival, she whirls around. Instead of fear twisting her features, she’s grinning widely at me. In her hands is a…video tape? I frown in confusion. She waves it in front of me as if it’s a prized find.
“What’s that?”
“This,” she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “is legendary.”
I hike an eyebrow up. “Dare to elaborate?”
“Oh no.” Her eyes gleam with excitement. “It’s your surprise for later. A thank you for all your help.”
This piques my curiosity. I can’t imagine what could be on that tape.
“In fact,” she continues, stepping closer, “I think we should wrap up for the evening. Tonight’s supper will be my treat. For the entertainment, we can watch this legendary glimpse of history. Please tell me you have a VHS player.”
My lips slowly curl into a conspiratorial grin. “As a matter of fact, your grandma brought hers over when she moved in. It’s already hooked up in the living room.”
She pushes past me eagerly, the scent of her perfume and sweat lingering like a surprisingly coveted souvenir. “It’s a date.”
It takes me several minutes after she’s gone to recover from her words.
It’s a date.
I know she didn’t mean it that way, but my mind turned to scrambled eggs the second she said it. I haven’t been on a date in years. No one worth dating. And Nora has a boyfriend. It’s not truly a date.
But still…
My brain sneaks in a peek at what that might look like if it were real.
That can’t happen.
Ever.
In a month she’s leaving. I need to remember that.
I feel like a new man after my shower. Even though this isn’t actually a date, I still dress nice in a pair of clean jeans, a black Polo, and my good boots. I fix my hair, oil my beard, and dig out my cologne from the bottom of my drawer for a small spritz.
This is insane.
I’m dressing up to have dinner with a girl I hated days ago. But, somehow, like with Goldie, she wriggled her way in, and I didn’t realize it until after it happened.
Logically, my brain tells me she’s leaving in a few weeks, she has a boyfriend, and she’s practically my enemy. I’m her partner in this project. That’s it.
But the male side of me?
I’m eager to see her again and to hear her laugh. I want to listen to more of her stories, especially the ones where I can remind her Denver is incompetent in the boyfriend department. A part of me wants her to see me as more than her grandma’s grumpy roommate.
And why is that?
So I can date her for real?
I shake my head to rid myself of that nonsense. Having her here this weekend has completely hijacked my life. She waltzed in and shook up all my plans, inserting herself right in the middle.
What plans?
You’ve been moping around for a week straight.
When I exit my bedroom, I hear her talking in the kitchen. Slowly, I follow the sound of her voice. She’s at the bar, dishing up food from a takeout box onto two plates.
“You can’t have this, Clo,” she chides. “You promised you’d behave while I get dinner ready.”
“You BirdBrought dinner?”
She whirls around and beams at me. “Such a clever local food delivery company. If we had one of these in New York, Uber Eats, Grub Hub, and DoorDash would all be out of business.” She snatches up a bird-shaped business card and thrusts it at me.
“’Tell your peeps and enjoy twenty-five percent off your next meal.
’ How cute is that? I’m such a sucker for good marketing. ”
I’ve never once thought BirdBrought was cute.
Especially since some kid I went to high school with runs it.
Cody had a laugh that resembled a donkey braying, and it used to get under my skin.
Good on him and his success, but it doesn’t mean I think his company is cute. I hardly think about it to be honest.
“I wasn’t sure what you wanted from Maple Millet Table, but since you’re a meat guy, I figured we couldn’t go wrong with steak.
” She pushes a plate with a juicy steak, a loaded baked potato, and grilled asparagus at me.
“We’re going to eat in the living room. Dinner and a show. ” Her blue eyes twinkle with amusement.
“Can’t wait,” I say truthfully.
I’m beyond curious as to what could be behind all this silly mystery. It’s a side of her I haven’t seen before, and I don’t hate it. Not a single bit.
“Come on, Clo. We’re about to have our minds blown.”
Nora laughs and follows me to the living room with her plate. She’s already set the coffee table with silverware, napkins, and a couple of glasses of tea.
“The Goldie Special?” I ask as I sit down and then let Clo investigate the items on the table.
“For me,” she sasses. “You got the Elias Un-Special.”
I chuckle as I take a sip of my delightfully unsweetened tea. She busies herself with the VHS player and shoves the video into it. I hadn’t seen a VHS player in the flesh since my childhood until Goldie showed up with it and forced me to watch her favorites.
“Is this Steel Magnolias?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. That was Grandma’s favorite. Not mine.”
“Hope Floats? Now and Then? Fried Green Tomatoes?”
“Did she make you watch those?”
“Every single one. Multiple times.”
Her smile over her shoulder is soft and makes my heart stutter.
“She liked her movies. I was forced to watch all of those too whenever I’d visit.
” Nora turns her attention back to the VHS player and then after some fiddling, she gets it to start.
“Okay, prepare for the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen. ”
I move Clo to my shoulder since he’s a little too interested in my steak and side-eye Nora as she sits beside me on the sofa.
“The most amazing?”
“Trust me,” she says with a grin.
“All this hype. What if it doesn’t live up to its expectations?”
“It’s going to exceed them, Elias Cove. That’s a promise.”
Five minutes later and I nearly choke on my steak.
It’s a home video. The blonde little girl prancing around the living room in a feathered costume is about eight or nine.
When the song playing on the radio in the background changes, she freezes, blue eyes wider than her toothless grin, and she bellows, “Grandma, it’s my song! ”
The little girl is clearly Nora and she’s hamming it up for the camera. She struts around in her bird costume, performing nearly flawless line dance moves as “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” by Brooks & Dunn blasts in the background.
Present Day Nora loses herself in a fit of giggles and I fight for air, choking on my own laughter.
She didn’t lie. It’s entertaining. Totally exceeding my expectations as promised.
It doesn’t help that Goldie is coaching her behind the camera on how to make her moves better.
When Sandy shows up toward the end, she sighs, rolls her eyes and shakes her head, unable to suppress a laugh of her own.
“Am I the best dancer ever, Grandma?” Little Nora asks, cheesing at the camera.
“The best ever, sweetheart.”
The girl beaming at the camera matches the one grinning back beside me. Before I can stop myself, I reach over and touch her arm, rubbing my thumb over her flesh in an affectionate move. Her lips part and eyebrows lift as her cheeks turn dark pink.
Electric currents seem to pulse through our physical connection. This jolts me back to reality. I jerk my hand back as a mixture of confusion and embarrassment burn hot through me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, voice tight and weird.
But I don’t think I am. Not even a little bit.
Fuuudge.