Chapter Nine #3
He looked at her for a moment, then got out and came around to her side.
Ada met them at the door before they’d even knocked, pulling Naomi into a hug like she was already one of hers.
“I’m so glad you came. Come in, come in. Supper’s almost ready.”
She was pulled through the door before she’d had a chance to say a word.
The house was full of noise and the smell of something wonderful coming from the kitchen. Cole was in the living room with his wife Aftyn, who stood and hugged Naomi warmly. Seth and Ryan were on the sofa, Ryan tucked under Seth’s arm, and Seth raised his glass at Naomi with a grin.
Gus appeared from the kitchen, dish towel over his shoulder, and shook her hand with both of his.
“Good to see you again, Naomi. Glad you could make it to the table this time.”
Dinner was loud, warm, and wonderful. They talked over each other, laughed at old stories, and argued good naturedly about nothing important, and Ada kept filling everyone’s plates without asking. Gus sat at the head of the table looking at his family like a man who knew exactly how lucky he was.
Sharing a meal with Ethan's family, Naomi felt a profound sense of belonging she had never experienced before. And underneath all of it, quiet and persistent, something ached.
She looked at Ada cutting pie in the kitchen, humming to herself, and thought about a little girl pressing her nose against a shop window. About a grandmother who cried quietly because she couldn’t afford a dollhouse. About a mother who left her and never looked back.
She looked down at her plate. She was fine. She was happy. She had everything she needed. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt like this.
She was quiet on the drive home.
Ethan didn’t push it at first. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between them, and let the silence sit. But after a few miles he glanced over at her.
“You went quiet in there toward the end.”
“I’m fine.”
“You said that earlier too.”
She looked out the window at the dark fields passing by. The stars were out again, thick, and bright, the same sky she’d lain under with him and thought she’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“Being around your family was wonderful,” she said finally. “I love them already.”
“But?”
She was quiet for a moment. “It just makes me think about what I didn’t have. That’s all.” She shook her head. “It’s silly. I’m thirty-five years old.”
“It’s not silly.”
“Watching Ada tonight.” She stopped. “She just loves all of you so effortlessly. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.” Her voice stayed steady but only just. “I used to wonder what I did wrong. Why I wasn’t worth staying for.”
Ethan reached across the console and took her hand without a word.
She looked down at their hands and then back out the window.
“I don’t think about her much anymore,” she said. “Or I tell myself I don’t.” She sighed. “Tonight, I thought about her a lot.”
He squeezed her hand and she felt the warmth of it move through her.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
“Don’t be.” She turned to look at him. “Tonight was wonderful. I mean that.”
He looked at her for a second before turning back to the road.
“She missed out,” he said. “Whatever her reasons were. She missed out on knowing you and that’s on her.”
Naomi looked back out the window and said nothing. But she held onto his hand the rest of the way home.
He pulled up beside the barn and cut the engine but neither of them moved right away.
“Stay tonight,” he said.
She looked at him. “I was going to suggest the same thing.”
He smiled, just slightly, got out and came around to her side.
Inside the house was quiet and warm. She kicked off her shoes at the door and followed him into the kitchen where he put the kettle on without asking.
She sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and watched him move around the space, comfortable and unhurried, and thought that this was what she’d been missing without knowing it.
Not just someone to be with but someone to be quiet with.
Someone who put the kettle on and didn’t need to fill every silence.
He set a mug in front of her and leaned on the counter across from her.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever thought about finding her? Your mother?”
She wrapped both hands around the mug. “No.”
“Not once?”
“Why would I?” She looked at him steadily. “She knew where I was. She knew where my grandmother lived. She never came.”
He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”
She looked down at her tea.
“I used to dream about it when I was little,” she said quietly. “That she’d show up one day and have a reason that made sense. Something that would make it okay.” She shook her head. “I stopped dreaming about it a long time ago.”
Ethan said nothing for a moment.
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said.
“Don’t be.” She looked up at him. “You can ask me anything.”
He came around the island and put his arm around her. She leaned into him and they stood there in the quiet kitchen while the tea cooled in her mug.