30. Cal
Chapter thirty
Cal
Khia perched on my shoulders, enjoying the sights from high above the crowd while we waited with Greyson, Paisley, and Rosie Cotton near the café after church the next afternoon.
“Daddy, they have caramel corn!” Khia announced, her small fingers gripping my hair.
“A little too tight, Lovebug.”
“Oops.” She giggled and released her death grip. My hair follicles sighed in relief.
Greyson locked in on something over my shoulder and nodded.
I thought at Greyson with all my might. Dude, we cleared the air.
Be on your best behaviour and don’t you dare embarrass me.
Noelle had left a wake of damage in her departure, but the Noelle who left wasn’t the same Noelle who’d come back.
Maybe I was too hopeful, too optimistic.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been accused of that. Izzy hadn’t appreciated my exuberance.
We’d never been a great fit, but in that past chapter of my life, I’d been looking for a good time and no commitment—the illusion of intimacy without involving feelings.
Anything to forget the woman I loved and who stole my heart right out of my chest when she left.
Eventually, Izzy came into the picture. When we found out about Khia, that moment seared into my mind.
For the first time in a long time, I was responsible for something more than myself. It terrified me—and woke me up.
Izzy and I were never meant for the long-term, but we’d married for Khia’s benefit.
When the postpartum depression kicked in, I didn’t know how to help her.
I tried—encouraging her to connect with other moms, finding a therapist—but she shut me out.
Everything I did was wrong. She despised me, and I despised myself for failing.
And then the call came while I was in Chicago for a game.
She was gone. I had a wife to bury and a baby girl to raise by myself.
Turning, I watched Noelle weave through the crowd towards us.
Her brown eyes flickered with uncertainty and her unruly curls were caught up in a claw clip.
She was beautiful in her cream coat over light-wash jeans and a pink flannel shirt.
I might not understand fashion, but I was very much a fan of this look—this woman.
“Miss Noelle!” Khia shrieked.
The crowd moved aside, curious whispers and dirty looks threading through the conversations. Noelle lifted her head, but her chin wobbled.
Coming back couldn’t have been easy. And small towns had long memories.
I stepped forward, holding out a hand to her.
Noelle stared at me.
Offering her a broad smile, I added loudly, “Thanks for coming. We’re glad you’re here.”
It wasn’t much, but I could stand as a buffer between her and the town’s tendency to hold grudges like it was an Olympic sport. We held the record for gold medals, hands down.
She slipped her hand in mine, and tingles shot up my arm.
A dozen memories flooded my mind. Holding hands and driving down country roads.
Daydreaming on the back-porch swing. Teaching her to skate and catching her when she fell.
Watching old Dick Van Dyke reruns. Seeing her in the stands wearing my jersey. Kissing in the rain.
“I’m glad you came. Uh, we’re glad,” I said, tugging her towards my family. Behave yourself, I told Greyson in my head.
“Thanks for the invite.” Noelle nodded at Paisley and Greyson. “It’s good to see you both.”
Paisley smiled sweetly. “You’ll have to come for tea again soon.”
“I’d like that.”
Greyson studied her for a moment.
Noelle, to her credit, didn’t shrink.
I held my breath. As much as I loved my twin and appreciated his indignation on my behalf, I wanted him to accept her.
They’d been friends once. We all had. Forgiveness wasn’t negating the past or casting aside the hurt as if it never happened.
It was a bridge to healing and reconciliation.
Of acknowledging the past and forging a future based on broken people messing up but having grace.
Greyson shifted, shoulders straight. “I was unnecessarily harsh, and I’m sorry, Elle.”
Wow, a full-blown apology. Even if it did sound like he’d rehearsed it the whole drive here. My mental powers of persuasion must be getting better. The thought of his wrenches being stolen worked wonders.
“Thanks, Grey.” Noelle smiled—a real one.
Handing Rosie’s leash to Paisley, Greyson stepped forward, giving Noelle a hug.
The miracles never ceased.
“Maybe you three can come for dinner sometime?” Paisley hinted, eyes shining.
“If Grey is making spaghetti, I will never turn down a meal,” I said.
“Bis-ghetti is the bestest!” Khia added, pumping her legs so they kicked my chest.
I gripped her ankles with a grunt. “Careful, kiddo.”
“Attention!” Mrs. Gulliver’s reedy voice caused the microphone to crackle, and Khia squealed, covering her ears.
“Sorry, folks.” She ruffled her papers. “Welcome to Serenity Springs’s Annual Harvest Parade to kick off the fall season!
It’s a time of food and family while dazzling our community with spirit.
And of course we’ll end things just before Thanksgiving with our Harvest Potluck in the park.
Now for our Harvest Queen in charge of leading us in true giving spirit”—she paused, drawing out the moment—“Noelle Shepherd.”
A collective gasp shuddered through the crowd, and next to me, Noelle reddened until her face matched Khia’s rubber boots in my hands.