Chapter 32
NORA
I sleep like crap that night and awaken the next morning way before my alarm.
I give up and get out of bed and into the shower.
My friends hadn’t wanted me to come home alone last night, but I’d finally convinced them I was fine to be alone, and they’d settled for each texting me three times before I went to bed.
At least it kept me from texting Alex.
Well, it kept me from sending any texts to Alex.
I wrote four, but deleted them without sending.
I really wanted to call him.
But what would I say?
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Muriel and Patty said, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that Rebel wouldn’t forgive me for leaving.
Most of all, though, I couldn’t stop missing Alex.
I decided to have an impromptu activity today to remind myself why I love my job and this town so much.
I sat at my computer for two hours putting together a pre-game party in the parking lot of the arena.
Everyone can come and learn the lyrics to the songs the team might sing and dance to on Friday, along with basic dance steps and arm movements they can do in the stands.
I’m also going to have a sneak peek at merchandise, and they can sample both the alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions of the Swamp Water, the Rougarou Bites, a sweet snack mix, and the savory snack mix we’re calling Rascal Kibble.
It will get everyone ready for the fun on Friday. And it will take my mind off of…everything else.
I finally head into Perks and Rec for much-needed food and caffeine.
“’Morning, Nora!”
“Hi, Nora!”
“Good to see you, Nora!”
“Good morning, everyone,” I return with a smile.
At least, I try to smile.
I move behind the counter to start making a latte. Bruce emerges through the swinging doors, laden with plates.
He simply asks, “Yogurt or pancakes?” Which is his way of asking how bad I’m feeling this morning.
“Pancakes. Bacon. No potatoes.” In other words, pretty bad, but not quite stuffed French toast bad.
He doesn’t seem surprised by that.
I’m hoping Andi and Everly will be in soon, but I’m on my own at the counter for now. I stupidly start scrolling through social media, checking the hockey accounts I follow. It’s work, I tell myself, but I’m lying. I’m searching for Alex’s name.
And it’s there.
Already.
They’re reporting on his return to Portland, praising Declan's smart move, and the replies indicate the fans are excited.
I’m glad.
For him.
For me…
I start to type in Parks and Recreation department Portland.
The door opens, and I look over out of habit. Then I straighten when I realize who just walked in.
Astrid Olsen is crossing the shop toward me.
Have I ever seen Astrid in Perks and Rec? Maybe. But not regularly.
“Mornin’, Astrid,” Bruce greets as he brings out more plates from the kitchen and steps past the counter.
“Good morning, Bruce.”
She takes the seat next to me, and I can’t help but let my gaze run over her from head to toe. I have only ever seen her in pantsuits or skirts. She always looks like a kick ass corporate boss lady.
Right now, she’s in soft-looking pale blue capri pants, an oversized rose colored sweatshirt that falls off one shoulder, and sandals that lace around her ankles.
She’s got multiple ankle bracelets and toe rings on.
And I note the tattoo at the base of her right pinky toe.
Her toenails are also painted a bright blue color.
Her usually loose, wavy hair is now in one braid that lays over one shoulder and she has no makeup on.
Not only does she look nothing like the pseudo-famous sports star and billionaire owner of our hockey team, but she’d also likely get carded at the door of most bars in New Orleans looking like this.
She notices the way I’m studying her. She grins. “Yoga, meditation, tea ritual all before I pretend to like offices and heels.”
“You don’t like offices and heels?”
She wrinkles her nose. “No. I prefer to be barefoot and outside.”
“So what’s with the pantsuits and, you know, the office?”
“I own a small corporation now,” she says with a shrug. “And I’m kind of in the middle of a… sociological experiment. If you look a certain way, and based on that, people expect you to act a certain way, are they more or less frustrated when you don’t do things the way they want you to?”
I study her face. “By ‘people’ do you mean your husband?” I ask.
For some reason. It’s none of my business, and I’m not sure why that’s my guess anyway.
I suppose little hints I’ve picked up, like when she noted to Alex that Declan would hate her office at the arena, and she seemed delighted by that prospect.
She looks surprised for a moment, but then she nods. “Yes, actually.”
“And do you want him to be more or less frustrated with how you act compared to what he expects?” I ask.
“So do you have everything?” Bruce asks as he comes back to the counter.
“I do,” she says, seemingly grateful to be interrupted.
Dammit.
I like Astrid so much, and I do consider her a friend, but we’re not as close as I am with Andi, Sutton, and Everly. I could force any of them to tell me what’s going on. I’m not quite there with Astrid.
But we’ll get there. I have no doubt. You don’t live in Rebel, Louisiana, long before you just give in to having people up in all your business. Resistance is futile.
She pulls a long envelope out of her bag and hands it to Bruce. “Tickets, and other general info. A car will pick you up at the airport and take you to my place.”
“Your place?” Bruce asks.
“I’ve lived in Portland for a few years.
I kept the apartment. It’s been thoroughly cleaned, and there’s a master bedroom and a guest room.
I had them stock the kitchen. Make yourself at home.
The car will also take you from the apartment to the arena.
I was going to put you in the owner’s box, and I can still change that, but I assumed you’d want to be down with the fans and closer to the ice. ”
“Of course,” Bruce agrees. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”
“Any time.”
I’m looking back and forth between them as if I’m watching a tennis match. “What’s going on?”
“Harley, Leo, Ruth, and I are going to the Grays game tomorrow night.”
My heart skips at the mention of the Grays.
“What? But…why?”
“Alex needs some friends there for support.”
“But…” I look at Astrid “He’s back in the city where he’s lived for years. That city loves him. And he’s got all of his teammates and the other coaches,” I point out.
Bruce nods. “Like I said, he needs some friends there.”
I study my grandfather. He just looks back at me, his expression calm and confident.
“I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You still gave him a hard time.”
“I had to be sure he could grow up and fit in here. If he can’t take a little heat, then he’s not the one.”
“And he passed?”
“More than.”
I feel my throat tighten. Alex won Bruce over. That’s no small thing.
“We have another ticket,” Bruce says casually. “If you want to come along.”
“But you’ll have to stay somewhere else,” Astrid interjects. “There are only two beds at my place, and the couch sucks to sleep on.” She gives me a smile. “I’m sure we can find you a place, though.”
“I…”
I want to so much. But will that just make this pain worse? Is saying goodbye over and over again just torturing us both?
“Before you answer, you should also know, we’re going to leave you there,” Bruce says.
I open my mouth, then shut it, then frown. “What?”
“You’re going to stay in Portland with Alex,” Bruce says.
I feel my eyes fill with tears. I start shaking my head. “I…can’t.”
“You can,” he says. His tone is firm but gentle.
“But…Rebel…”
He points to the front of the register
There are two mason jars there. One has a sticky note on it that says YES. The other says NO. The sign behind them says Should Nora go to Portland to be with Alex?
The YES jar is overflowing. There isn’t even a single dollar in the NO jar.
I look up at my grandfather.
“You’ve spent so much time and energy making us all happy,” he says, his voice gentle. “That’s all we want for you, honey. We love you. Enough to let you go so you can be the happiest you can possibly be.”
“You think that’s in Portland?” I ask softly.
“I think it’s with Alex,” he corrects.
“And…” I look at the jars again. “I can come home and visit, and everyone will be happy to see me?”
“Thrilled,” he says, nodding, his voice sounding a little scratchy. He clears his throat. “That’s not to say we won’t be doing straw polls and judging things like his proposal and what you two name your cats.”
I laugh even as emotions clog my throat.
“So that’s five for the flight later today?” Astrid asks with a smile.
I sniff and nod. “Yeah.”
The coffee shop erupts with cheers and applause.
I turn to face everyone, laughing even as a tear tracks down my cheek. I swipe it away. God, I love these crazy, nosy people.
Astrid leans over and gives me a one-armed hug. “Thank you,” she says.
I look at her. “For what?”
“For falling for my brother. Not the hockey player. The guy.”
And another tear tracks down my cheek as I hug her back. “He made it impossible not to.”