Chapter 11 #2
“I know fancy restaurants use lots of different forks. That’s not the kind of place I’m used to. At Bruce’s we keep the same fork from salad to dessert.”
I shoot her a smile. “Probably one for salad, another for the entree, and another for dessert. But it will be obvious which is which. I promise we’ll get through it.” I look over at her again. “Tonight it’s just about spending time together. I just want to treat you. Please don’t worry.”
I didn’t think about any of this. Yes, I thought about taking her somewhere nicer than she’s used to.
Nicer than Bruce’s. Nicer than a place that would serve her fried catfish and gumbo.
But I hadn’t thought about whether she'd be comfortable or not.
She seems so easy going and is clearly beloved by all kinds of people so she seems comfortable in various situations and settings.
But she will be comfortable. I’ll be sure of it.
Five-star dining is simply about learning.
I’ve always known about the different forks and how to place my napkin and multiple courses.
It was simply how I was raised. My mother loves elaborate feasts and dining is always an event.
But I’ve been around plenty of teammates who come from simpler backgrounds who needed to learn.
It’s fun to teach people about different cuisines and give them new experiences.
Just like I had to learn about frozen pizza and that chicken wings should never be eaten with utensils.
No one should feel strange or uncomfortable when it comes to new foods or about eating in new places.
She doesn’t pull her hand away and I enjoy the feel of her hand in mine. “So I’ve now met your grandfathers, cousins, friends…what about your parents? How will they feel about us dating? Will I meet them?” I ask as we turn onto the highway.
“Oh.”
Her quiet, one word answer pulls my eyes from the road to her. She’s staring out the windshield with a slight frown.
“Nora?”
She looks at me. “I haven’t been asked about my parents in so long…
” She gives me a little smile. “Everyone knows all about them in Rebel, so no one talks about them. And the guys I’ve dated knew the story.
I honestly haven’t actually told anyone…
this…in…” She frowns again. “I was trying to figure out if I’ve ever actually told anyone. ”
I shift on the seat. Dammit. Clearly this isn’t a ‘you can have dinner with us on Sunday’ situation. What did I stir up here?
“You’ve always dated guys from Rebel?” I ask, distracted by that piece of information as much as whatever this story about her parents is.
“Yes. Well, two of the three. The other was here for a while before we went out so he must have asked someone else.” She pauses. “Or maybe he didn’t care.” She says that last part almost thoughtfully, as if that’s just occurring to her.
She dated a guy who didn’t care about her parents? What?
“You’ve only dated three men?” I’m aware I’m getting off track but I’m definitely interested in this too.
She nods. “Yeah. They were all long-term and pretty serious though.”
I don’t respond to that, focusing on the road.
I decide to repair my reputation in this town and pick the woman who is basically everyone’s granddaughter and who only gets involved in long-term serious relationships? Great job, Olsen. Really great.
“So, um, anyway, my mom isn’t around and I never knew my dad.”
That jerks my attention away from pondering if my luck is really truly horrible…or really amazing despite myself.
“Oh,” I answer stupidly, looking at her.
She shrugs. “My mom got pregnant with me during her first semester of college. It was just a fling. They dated but it wasn’t serious and he was relieved when she told him she didn’t want to get married or anything.
So, he was off the hook and I’ve never met him.
She didn’t even have any photos of him. I think his first name was Carter. Or Conner. Something like that.”
She isn’t even sure of her father’s first name? But she truly doesn’t seem bothered by this.
“Bruce and Harley were married by then. My grandma, Harley’s wife, died of cancer when my mom was ten.
Bruce was always around anyway and then Harley and Bruce got married three years later.
Bruce helped raise my mom and my aunt Bebe.
” Nora is watching the road again. “My mom is super smart. She wanted to be a doctor. An oncologist, because of her mom. So, she finished her freshman year in Georgia, had me that summer, then went back to school and I stayed with Bruce and Harley.”
I frown. Her mom left her with her grandfathers?
“Then she got into medical school in California. Then got her choice of residencies and picked Los Angeles and she ended up staying there.” Nora looks back at me now. “She’s done amazing research and work in new surgeries for cancer. And she met her husband there. They have two boys.”
She’s quiet for several long moments, so I finally ask, “So you have a step-dad and half-siblings?”
“Yes.”
“But they live in California and you live here?”
“Yes. My mom is more like an…aunt, I guess. And the boys are like distant cousins. I’ve only met them a handful of times. When she comes back to Louisiana to visit, which is maybe once a year, they’re often busy with school or sports or other things. I’ve only met my step-dad three or four times.
“I know my aunt Bebe, Thea’s mom, a lot better.
She’s more like a mom to me. She was there with Bruce and Harley when I was sick, she came to school programs, celebrated birthdays and holidays.
And Thea is like a sister. Harley and Bruce are basically my dads.
The whole town has helped raise me. This is my family and home.
She’s…not.” Nora shrugs. “It’s weird, I know.
Especially for a guy like you. I know you’re close to your mom and dad and your sisters. ”
She seems fine. She really does. She’s never really known her mom. But I still want to hug her.
“I am close to them,” I agree. “But I also live in a different country from one of my sisters and from my parents,” I remind her. “And I have since I was eighteen.”
“But you know them well. And you grew up with them. Bonded with them. And you go home to visit and they come here.”
She’s clearly read about me. Or Ruth has filled her in.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Anyway, that’s why I’m so attached to Rebel,” she says. “Why the people mean so much to me. They’re literally my family. They’ve always been there for me. They took care of me when my mom…couldn’t. So I take care of them now.”
I think about that. She says her mom couldn’t take care of her, but is that true?
Maybe. It’s possible her mom wasn’t equipped to be a young, single mom.
But maybe she just wouldn’t. She had other plans.
Dreams. And Harley and Bruce helped those happen.
They also took care of and loved Nora. It seems everyone turned out great.
Nora definitely takes care of them right back. Her job is literally making the whole town happy. Entertaining them. Keeping them together as a community.
Does she worry what would happen if she didn’t do that? If people didn’t come together for community activities and celebrations? Does she feel like she’s keeping her family together?
“Is that why you only date guys from Rebel?”
“Yeah. I mean, one wasn’t from Rebel, but I really thought he was going to stay. I intend to stay there, so there’s no point dating anyone who doesn't want that.” She sighs. “But, honestly, I think I’m over it.”
I glance over again. Dammit, having a conversation where I can’t look at her as much as I want to is frustrating. “Over it? Over wanting to stay in Rebel?”
“No,” she says quickly. “I think I’m over dating.”
I laugh. “Come on.” She’s young, beautiful, full of life, clearly loves having a lot of people in her life. No way is she going to stay single.
“I’m serious. I’ve been in three pretty serious relationships and my one must-have is staying in Rebel. Pretty simple. But none of them have worked out.”
“Why not?” I’m truly curious. Obviously, there are men who want to live in Rebel.
She shrugs. “The ones I fall for just don’t want to settle down in that little town. I mean, Sean Patrick grew up in Rebel.”
I hate that guy. My hand flexes on the steering wheel.
“He should have known and loved it as much as I did,” she goes on. “We dated for three years. But when we graduated, he wanted to get out, go on to bigger and better things. Broke my heart.”
“But he’s back,” I point out. “And he wants to stay now, right?”
It’s not that I want her with him, but I have no say in that. I’m fucking leaving too. My chest feels tight for some stupid reason.
“Yes, but it’s different now. He went to college in North Carolina and ended up staying there, trying to ‘make it’,” she says, making air quotes with her fingers.
“Then realized that was harder than he thought it would be. Now he’s back where being popular is easier for him, but he’s trying to change things in Rebel, and I hate that.
I want someone who loves it the way it is. ”
Right. Of course. This is very clear—I’m not her type.
“The other was a guy who moved to town and he even thought he was going to stay,” she tells me. “We got serious. But then, after a couple of years, he got restless. Bored, I guess. Realized the small town life wasn’t as charming as he thought it would be. So he left.”
Small town life isn’t for everyone. That’s not a character flaw. But maybe wanting to be a big shot in a big city where there are endless amenities like twenty-four-seven food delivery and people to hire to do things for you is…okay, not a character flaw exactly, but also not that admirable.
Yes, I’m a big shot in a big city. Definitely not her type.