Chapter 4
I think we can manage to keep your clothes on. —Milo Warner
“Okay.” I glare up at a maple tree that’s become my new nemesis. “Listen,” I tell it. “I get that you think I don’t understand what I’m doing here. But how would you know? You’re a damn maple tree.”
The tree doesn’t respond.
“And sure.” I gesture to the pile of wood behind me. “I’ve never exactly built a treehouse before. But this isn’t a complicated design. It’s a platform, right? With a railing around it. Colin already got you trimmed perfectly for the platform. I watched a YouTube video. I know what I’m doing here.”
If Mia were here, she’d have plenty of sharp remarks about how I could just wait for Gabe’s boyfriend Colin, who actually knows something about construction, to get back from his work trip in Switzerland and help me finish building the treehouse.
But in a few weeks, Gabe and I are hosting a day camp for a bunch of Devon Falls elementary schoolers.
It’s the first major test event we’ll hold here, the first time we’ll officially open our doors to the community, and it was my big idea to build a treehouse to show off to the kids that day.
And I may have told Gabe I could build it myself.
I mean, I can, right? Colin might be the guy in my friend group with all the DIY skills, but I’ve reconstructed people’s hips before.
I should be able to build a platform in a tree.
Too bad I’m not exactly sure what to do first. I’m frowning at a YouTube video when my phone rings. I see Ma’s number and quickly hit the button to answer.
“Hello, son. How are the backwoods? Do you have hives yet?”
I laugh out loud. “You know you love visiting Devon Falls.”
“Only until I start to miss my good bagels from the city. Although that bakery you have up there makes a croissant that puts the Brooklyn bakeries to damn shame, I tell you. Has Stan’s son arrived yet?
I saw him last week. He’s crushed about that boy finally leaving home.
I told him children all have to spread their wings at some point. ”
“He’s supposed to be here in a few hours.” I drop down onto the ground to sit at the base of the tree. “You think it’s a bad idea? Me working with the enemy like this? I know Stan’s COS thinks so.”
Ma snorts. “I’ve never thought much of that man, but I don’t tell my fellow senators how to hire their staff.
If Stan does decide to run in the primary race with me, perhaps then we should all regroup and talk things through.
I wouldn’t want you and Noah to feel uncomfortable.
But you’re just co-workers, which is hardly a major conflict of interest. It’s not as if you plan to start dating him or something. ”
“He’s like fifteen years younger than me,” I tell her.
I’ve had to remind myself of that fact a few too many times during our texting conversations together.
Those conversations with Noah have all been so easy, so natural.
Like we’ve known each other for years. Like there isn’t a decade and a half of experience and miles of family complication between us.
“He could be my kid if I’d made shittier decisions in high school. ”
Not to mention that I’ve all but given up on dating. I’ve never had much luck finding someone who wants the kind of partner I am when I’m in a relationship. Ma doesn’t know that, though. She just thinks I’m taking my time finding Mr., Mrs., or Mx. Right.
“Thank goodness you kept your act together as a teenager.” Ma and I laugh together.
“I did tell your sister about your new hire too. So expect to be hounded relentlessly for the details of ‘the tea,’ as she puts it, where your new co-worker is concerned. But let’s not borrow trouble.
From what Stan says, this job is perfect for his son.
And goodness knows that boy deserves a break in life.
I’m proud of you for trying to help him find one. ”
That’s my mother: generous in all things. I let myself puff up with pride at her words for a moment before she and I say goodbye and I get back to the treehouse.
For a few hours I’m completely on my own, entertained only by the mix of rap, rock, R&B, and classical music coming out of my Bluetooth speaker, which blends and flows with the sound of pounding nails.
The trees flanking me are a tapestry of green, the staple color of Vermont at this point in the summer.
At this altitude, though, some of them are already beginning to shed those green tones for hints of yellow and orange, and I know it won’t be long until the woods around me are a sea of autumn colors.
The world feels peaceful and light, and just for these moments, all the other noise in the world is starting to disappear behind me into the woods.
I take in one long, deep breath as I pick up another board and start making my way up the tree’s brand-new ladder—the one that I just built, thank you very much—so I can finish the platform.
And that’s when I hear someone screaming.
“What the hell?” I drop the hammer I’m holding and jet out of the woods, down into the clearing that surrounds the community center. I follow the sounds of panic, trying not to channel the days of my ER rotation. I must be getting closer, because eventually I can make out actual words.
“Help! Stuck! Gondola!”
Oh, fuck. I make a sharp right turn at the bottom of the hill and head toward the gondola station.
It isn’t long before I get to the source of the yelling: a guy who is actually, for real, hanging out the side of a gondola cab a few feet above my head.
And for some reason, there’s a black and white dog lying down next to his hair, whimpering.
“What the hell?” I ask.
“Someone’s here? Thank you, universe!” the guy yells. He looks around, and just like that I mentally flash back to a random day in Albany, New York.
Noah Hardaway has arrived in Devon Falls, and apparently he’s gotten himself stuck in a gondola car. Well, half stuck in a gondola car.
“Noah! What happened? Are you okay?”
Noah’s cheeks are flushed and bright. I bet his blood pressure’s sky high right now.
“Okay, so this isn’t the best first impression I’ve ever made.
Except it’s not really a first impression, huh?
I mean, we already met in an elevator. You even have a nickname for me.
So I guess I don’t need to worry about that? ”
I can hear the layers of panic in his voice.
Luckily, years of working in medicine have trained me to stay calm and in control when a patient is melting down.
I reach up to put a hand on his ankle and squeeze it gently.
“Take a deep breath, Noah,” I tell him. “You’re going to be fine. I’m getting you the hell out of there.”
Noah lets out a long breath. “Protecting me again,” he murmurs.
Huh. He noticed me getting all protective that day in Albany?
Honestly, I never planned for that moment.
I saw Noah’s face, and Ezra’s, and I stepped between them without even thinking about it.
That old instinct kicked in, the way it always has.
No matter how hard I try to hold it down, no matter how many girlfriends or boyfriends tell me I’m too much, too overbearing.
I flinch as I think back on Brad, who was on the other side of my last, and nastiest, breakup.
When he called me eternally suffocating, I knew we were through.
And I knew it was going to be a long ass time before I bothered trying to date for real again.
“You’re going to be just fine,” I tell Noah as I study the situation.
“We’ll fix this.” Looks like the seam of Noah’s jeans got caught in the mechanism of the car’s doorway.
That would explain why he’s hanging where he is and hasn’t just pulled himself inside the thing.
“That your dog?” I ask, just to distract him.
“No. It’s a stray, I think? It ran into the car. I was trying to help it out when…”
He doesn’t finish, but I fill in the blanks quickly enough to figure out how he got where he is. “Gabe was testing the gondola today. He must not have seen or heard you before he went inside,” I tell him. “We weren’t expecting you until later.”
“I made good time on Route 105. No tractors.”
“Huh. Well, that’s a Vermont miracle.” I circle the area beneath Noah. “Listen,” I tell him. “We can get you out of this situation, no problem. I just need you to relax.”
He snorts loudly. “Have you ever tried to relax while you’re half hanging out of a gondola car?”
“I haven’t. But luckily, I have incredible skills when it comes to rescuing people from gondolas. Board certified and everything.”
Noah snorts, then lets out a huff of laughter.
Good. I’ve got him distracted now. “So, tell me about this dog,” I say lightly as I head toward the area where Gabe’s left some tools out.
The stepladder that usually lives by the gondola should be there too.
I let out a long sigh of relief when I see it on the ground not too far away.
Phew. I didn’t want to leave poor Noah literally hanging while I went looking for the ladder—or Gabe.
Every nerve in my body is on high alert and screaming one thing right now. Get him down. Make him safe.
But I ignore all that noise and focus on staying calm for Noah. “What’s the dog’s name?” I ask
“No collar,” he answers, his voice slightly strangled. “Or tags. She was just running across the property when I got here. You’ve never seen her before?”
“No. It’s a girl?”