Chapter 19 Jude #2
The thought sits hard in my chest. How many things did she miss because no one bothered to look close enough?
I grip the wheel and breathe in slow. Whatever comes next—whatever Amber and I need to figure out—Maisie’s here now.
She’ll be taken care of. Paid attention to. Seen.
She deserves nothing less.
We pull into Knightly Blooms, and Maisie nearly flies out of the truck. She misjudges the pavement and stumbles. I catch her by her armpits before she faceplants.
“Whoa. Easy.”
“The ground is moving,” she protests.
“That’s the glasses. You’ll get used to it.”
She nods, but she still grips my hand tighter as we head inside.
The bell above the door jingles. Maisie gasps like she walked into a fairy tale. “It’s so pretty. Everything looks so bright now.”
I glance around, and yeah, she’s right. The place smells like lavender and citrus. Fresh arrangements sit everywhere, each one balanced in color and shape. Norah’s touch is all over this place.
Norah steps out from the back, wiping her hands on her jeans. She’s in light denim and a faded T-shirt, hair twisted into a loose knot.
She looks… rested. Softer.
She spots Maisie and instantly smiles. “There you are.”
Maisie sprints toward her and wraps her arms around Norah’s waist. Norah folds over her, laughing into the top of her curls.
“Well, look at you,” Norah says, pulling back. “What do we have here?”
“Glasses!” Maisie twirls, nearly knocking into a bucket of roses.
“They look amazing,” Norah says, touching Maisie’s cheek lightly.
Maisie thrusts the cookie at her. “This is for you.”
Norah presses her hand to her chest, eyes warming. “A cookie just for me? That’s too sweet.”
Maisie nods proudly. “You can have it with cocoa.”
“Oh, can I?”
“Yes,” Maisie says as if it’s the law.
I watch them together, and something in me untangles. When Norah straightens and looks at me, her smile shifts. It’s soft. Almost shy.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey. How’re you feeling?”
There’s a twitch near her eye. “I’m okay. Would you like some cocoa too?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
She leads Maisie toward the back to make drinks. I stay by the counter, taking in the displays she’s fixed. The shelves Rufus knocked over yesterday look brand new now—neat, polished, full of blooms.
She returns with three mugs. Mine says “NOT A MORNING PERSON” in bold letters. I huff a laugh.
“Where’s the dog?” she asks as she hands me mine.
“At home. Probably drooling on my couch.”
She nods, sipping her cocoa. Maisie copies her sip for sip like she’s learning a technique from a master. Then she asks, “Do you know Harry Potter?”
Norah snorts softly. “Of course I do.”
Maisie pouts. “Everyone knows except me.”
“You’re young,” Norah says, brushing a curl from Maisie’s forehead. “There’s so much to discover.”
Maisie perks right up. “You should come for movie night!”
Norah freezes. I jump in before she panics. “She might be busy.”
“Oh.” Maisie droops, but only for a second, because the cocoa distracts her again.
After we finish, I buy her a bouquet—pink and white flowers tied with twine—for being brave. I walk to the counter to pay, but Norah waves me off.
“It’s fine. Really.”
“I don’t want you thinking I’m taking advantage of your kindness.”
“It’s okay. Consider it a thanks for everything your friend did for me last night.”
“My friend?” I echo before I can stop myself. “Ryker?”
Her shoulders drop a little, like she’s relieved. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No. What would he tell me?”
She wipes her palms on her jeans. “Nothing big. I just… I got kind of drunk last night. And Ryker saw all of it. And I was mortified because I thought you knew.”
I push my glasses up my nose. “He didn’t tell me. And you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
She huffs a small sound. “Well. Just tell Ryker thanks. That’s all.”
“Alright.”
Maisie, who’s been sniffing her bouquet like she’s studying it, suddenly pipes up, “Do you know how to braid?”
It takes me a second to realize she’s talking to Norah.
Norah drops her gaze to Maisie’s curls and smiles. “You have hair like mine. Twists work better than braids. You’ll need the right comb and some products.”
“Okay. Can you teach Uncle Jude? He’s pretty bad at it.”
She looks at me then, and I can tell she’s fighting a smile. “Is that so?”
“I’m not that bad. I’m still learning.” I’m carrying on the conversation, but my mind’s still stuck on what she said. Why would she be embarrassed about getting drunk around Ryker?
Did they sleep together?
I realize I’ve tuned out of the conversation when Norah nudges my arm. “What do you think?”
Fuck, fuck! “Um, sorry. I didn’t get that. What did you say?”
Her eyes lock onto mine, like she’s assessing me. “I said, how about I come for movie night and teach you how to maintain her hair?”
My throat goes tight. “You sure?”
She nods, gentle but certain. “It’ll be fun. She’s got curly hair, and that means it needs a regular routine or else it’ll be a beast to tame. And I don’t remember the last time I watched Harry Potter. Plus, Maisie is sweet. I’d like to hang out with her again.”
I can’t think of a single reason to say no.
“Alright,” I say. “Seven.”
She smiles like something just lit up inside her. “See you then.”
Maisie waves so hard she almost drops her flowers. Norah waves back, laughing.
We head out, the bell jingling above us, and Maisie keeps turning around to make sure Norah’s still waving until the door closes.
When she finally settles into her seat, she whispers, “She’s nice.”
I grip the steering wheel, still feeling the echo of Norah’s smile.
“Yeah,” I say quietly as I start the truck. “She really is.”
Now, what the fuck happened between her and Ryker?