Chapter 4 Nellie Today #2
It’s a reminder not to ruin it for her. I will not be a flaming ball of rage. I will be measured, calm. I will fake it like nobody’s business.
For once, I’ll be the chill one—not him.
“This is where Ben and I are staying,” Cara says of the big house. “And our closest people.”
“That’s me, I think,” I say, raising my hand. “Is that me?”
She grins. “That’s you, you maniac.”
I lug my bag up several steps to the front porch, where cherry-red Adirondack chairs await beneath rotating ceiling fans.
“Do you want some help with that?” she asks, eyeing me warily as I pant and heave and try to ignore the increasingly intense throbbing in my injured shoulder. “I can help you—or there should be some staff members around here somewhere.”
“I’m good,” I assure her, raising a hand to stop her. “Really.”
“If you say so.”
Once I make it to the porch, she opens the front doors and we step into an airy parlor.
Only there is nothing stodgy about it as the word suggests.
The ceilings are lofted and a mile high.
There are windows everywhere, inviting the outside in, especially at the back where the house bellies up to actual woods.
The furniture leans Danish modern and is appointed with warm neutrals and pops of neon.
French blue and lilac bud vases—that I suspect are made by local Heath Ceramics—abound, filled with the same wildflowers I spotted on our walk through the property.
Everything smells like spring.
Except maybe post-plane me.
There is a staircase to my right, leading to what I imagine are more glorious rooms. “Cara, this is gorgeous,” I gush. “But please tell me I don’t have to carry the Jolly Green Giant up those stairs.”
“No, no, you’re good,” she titters, tucking her hair behind her ear. But she doesn’t move to show me the way. And, looking at her more closely, I realize she seems nervous.
“Hey CB, I’d love to wash my face,” I say. “Maybe shower. Which way is my room?”
She is avoiding my eyes.
“Dude. What’s up? Seriously. Out with it.”
She exhales sharply. “Okay, so, because Alfie didn’t come with you and you’re… single for the trip, I had to put you in one of the smaller bedrooms. Well, meaning, a room with one of the full-size beds. We have the main suite, and I gave Sabrina and Rita the other king room in the house.”
“Okay,” I shrug. “That’s totally fine. Don’t even worry! I’m happy to take the kids’ room or whatever.”
“Great,” she says, though she’s still biting her lip like she is not relieved.
“Okay?” I say.
“Okay,” she agrees.
She turns, tentatively, and begins guiding me off to the left, stopping in front of a door marked THE POPPY SUITE.
“Oh! It’s a suite,” I say, delighted. I am doubly fine with a small room if it has an adjoining living space. “Sweet!”
“It’s a suite alright,” she nods, turning the knob.
Inside, the room is as breezy and bright as the rest of the house.
The ceilings are tall, the floors are a beautiful light wood in wide slats.
We are greeted by plush rugs in muted pinks and corals in a full living room with a cushy couch and a Pendleton throw blanket folded over a modernist leather ottoman.
There’s even an old-school record player and an assortment of vinyl on a bookshelf along with the usual array of worn vacation house books, but also beautiful bound copies of classics.
I peep The Great Gatsby and Franny and Zooey.
A kitchen area to the left boasts an espresso machine and a countertop bearing a pretty box of tea.
The wine fridge looks fully stocked as well.
“This is lovely!” I say, meaning it. But then I glitch on Cara’s anxious expression again and wave my hand in her general direction. “Why does your face still look like that?”
I know my best friend. And something is up.
She takes a deep breath as if to steel herself. “There’s one teeny-tiny catch…”
“This is your room,” I hear a male voice say as I whip around to find Ben walking in… with Noah close behind him.
Of course.
Noah looks from Ben to me and then back to Ben, his mouth falling open.
My stomach drops and begins to churn like an ancient washing machine.
With alarm, I turn to Cara as she points her fingers in opposite directions. “There are two rooms,” she says. “Separate rooms. Like totally separate.”
Ben scurries over to stand by her side, either in her defense or out of fear. The two of them eye us like we’re rabid raccoons. They are more powerful together.
The silence in the room is deep as Noah and I absorb this information—and it extends until Cara can’t take it anymore.
“The thing is, I’m so sorry and I know neither of you want to share a suite, but you’re our best friends and we really want you close by us and this is really the only option unless we give Sabrina and Rita one of these rooms—but then it’s a smaller bed and that doesn’t seem like a good solution for a couple.
So, I totally understand if you don’t want to do this and, if either of you want to switch with someone who’s in a separate bungalow on the grounds, you totally can.
We really understand. And I am so, so sorry! ”
She pauses to catch her breath like she has just run a sprint.
I truly cannot believe my best friend would put me in this situation.
Knowing how I feel about him. It’s a total nightmare.
As much as it can be a nightmare to be in a beautiful suite in wine country—which, to be fair, isn’t that much of a nightmare.
And I am about to say all this out loud when Ben puts his arm around his wife, looks from me to Noah, and says pointedly: “Cara did her best. And she’s been really worried about this. ”
And that instantly takes me down a notch. Because, of course, I catch his drift. This is Cara’s week. Ben’s week. And here I am already causing them unnecessary stress.
Against my better judgment, I steal a look at Noah.
And though he is tense enough to be running his fingers continuously over his hair, I can see him processing this the same way I am.
Begrudgingly, I catch his eye. We always had solid silent communication and that has not changed, even after all these years.
I know we’re in agreement before he speaks.
“Please don’t worry, Cara,” he says. “We’re grown-ups. We have one hundred percent got this.” He looks at me. “Right, Nell… Eleanor?”
Everything in me wants to turn around and do the whole journey in reverse.
Call John back to the estate and have him whisk me in the opposite direction through the rainbow tunnel—perhaps to a pot of gold—and across the bridge to the airport, where I will take off like a rocket, never to return.
But this is Cara’s trip. Ben’s trip. And I will not be the one to ruin it.
So, instead, I clear my throat, gather my strength, and will the corners of my mouth to curve into a smile.
It may look terrifying, but it’s the best I’ve got.
“Yes. Don’t worry. We are all good. It’s all good. We got this.”
Even using the word we gives me agita. But I grin my way through it so hard that my face starts to hurt. When the happy couple finally leaves the suite, Cara glancing back three hundred times to check to see if I am truly okay, I am relieved to see them go.
The door clicks shut. I let my face fall. And then it’s just him and me.
Noah. Me. Alone. Together.
There’s a moment of silence as we consider each other, resigned.
Then, he opens his mouth to speak and I put up a hand. Like I am a crossing guard and he does not have the right of way. It’s my right hand and, as my shoulder rotates, I involuntarily wince from pain.
I don’t need to know what he’s going to say to know that I don’t want to hear it. No thanks.
“Don’t,” I bark before he makes a sound and, without a glance back, I cross to my room, the Jolly Green Giant rolling close behind.