Chapter 7
WEBB
“You know, that’s not how the story actually ends.”
Noelle turns away from the movie screen to look at me. “I insisted on reading the book after seeing the movie,” she continues. “In hindsight, maybe I should have waited until I was older. Because the way the actual story ended was kind of upsetting.”
“Upsetting?” I lift my chin at the screen, where the leads are sharing a passionate kiss before riding off into the sunset. “How so?”
She scoots closer, draping her leg over mine. “It actually ends with a cliffhanger. At the end, the narrator explains all these terrible things still in store for the protagonists. So you don’t really know if they find their happy ending or not.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s like some of the old fairy tales that got turned into movies.
The actual tale is much more gruesome. Like—” She casts a quick glance at the dozen or so moviegoers sitting on picnic blankets around us, then whispers, “In one of the old fairy tales, the evil stepsisters chop off their toes to try to fit their feet into the glass slipper.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. My dad warned me before I read it, but I was insistent.” She gives a little shrug. “That’s when I first learned that the book usually isn’t the same as the movie.”
Noelle shivers as the evening breeze picks up, so I loop my arm around her shoulders and pull her against me. “Not usually,” I agree. “I loved The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when I read it in middle school. And I was so excited to see the movie. But it wasn’t the same.”
“Nope. I guess part of it comes from trying to condense a full-length novel into an hour and a half movie.” She looks up at the large, inflatable screen, where the credits are now rolling.
“I always try to watch some of the credits. Not that I worked in movies, but I appreciate how much work is done behind the scenes. And no one ever watches the credits, you know?”
As evidenced from all the couples and families gathering up their things, I’d say she’s right.
While the movie was playing, there had to be at least fifty people gathered in the town park to watch the weekly summer movie feature.
But now that the movie’s technically over, Noelle and I are one of only a handful of couples still sitting.
Personally, I’m in no hurry to leave. Leaving means putting an end to another great date, which I’d rather not do. So while everyone else is gathering up their blankets and coolers and travel chairs, I keep my focus on Noelle.
“I never thought about it that way,” I tell her. “With the credits, I mean. I’ve always just left if I’m in a theater, or turned the movie off if I’m at home. Now, I feel kind of guilty.”
“Oh, no, don’t feel guilty,” Noelle replies quickly. “If you don’t work in the entertainment industry, there’s no reason to think about it like that. And anyway—” She nudges me with her elbow and smiles. “It’s not like my name is up there.”
“If your name was up there, I’d watch the credits a dozen times.”
“Webb.”
“What? I would.”
Her expression softens. Then she kisses me lightly on the lips. “I’m really glad you came into the diner. Have I mentioned that before?”
I brush a loose strand of hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I am.” As the projector shuts off, her features are cast into shadow. “To be honest, when I moved here, dating was the last thing on my mind. But after meeting you, it was hard not to think about it.”
“What changed your mind?”
Noelle thinks for a second. “A lot of things. I started looking forward to you coming in to the diner. I hoped you’d show up, and on the mornings you didn’t, I was disappointed.”
I hug her closer. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be. Of course you couldn’t come in every day I worked. You have a life. A job. Things far more important than driving to Williston to have breakfast at Doug’s Diner.”
Maybe a month ago, I would have agreed. But now? Seeing Noelle as much as possible feels pretty damn important.
Cupping her cheek, I hold her gaze as I reply, “Seeing you is very important.”
“Webb.” She kisses me again. “That’s something else about you that I like. You don’t play games. A lot of the guys I’ve known would rather fling themselves off a cliff than actually admit how they feel. But you’re different.”
The very mention of lots of guys brings a surge of jealousy. Which is irrational and hypocritical, since I’ve dated more than my fair share of women. Before I can stop myself, I ask, “Lots of guys?”
Shit.
“Nevermind,” I amend. “It’s none of my business.”
Noelle goes quiet for a few seconds. She picks up the little stuffed Bigfoot I gave her at the start of our date and sets it on her lap. Absently, she strokes the top of its head. “It’s fine. If we’re dating…”
“If?”
“We are,” she affirms with a smile. “As I was saying, since we’re dating, I think it’s normal for us to talk about our dating history.
Not in great detail. I’m not going to quiz you on how many women you’ve been with or anything.
But serious relationships, engagements, marriages…
those we should talk about, eventually.”
Another glance around the park shows that, aside from the few volunteers taking down the inflatable movie screen, we’re basically alone. As I look into Noelle’s eyes, a burst of nerves unexpectedly hits me.
I’m not ashamed of my dating history. I never made promises I couldn’t keep, I didn’t lie, and I was always open about my intentions. Maybe I left some women feeling disappointed because they wanted more than I was willing to offer, but I never let things go far enough to really hurt anyone.
To a single guy, it all made perfect sense.
But what will Noelle think? If I tell her I’ve never had an actual, serious relationship before, will it make her doubt me?
I mean, if I were in her position, it might.
Here’s this thirty-nine-year-old guy who just screwed around for close to two decades, never lived with a woman, never proposed…
Shit. How could she not be skeptical about me?
But I’m not going to lie about it, either. So I say, “I want to be upfront with you. I’ve never had a serious relationship before. Up until a couple of years ago, I wasn’t interested in it. I dated—very casually—but it never went anywhere. I was careful not to let it.”
Noelle strokes Bigfoot’s head again. “Was there a reason you wanted to stay single?”
I shake my head. “Nothing significant. Before my dad passed away, my parents had a good marriage. And I know plenty of people who are happily married. I guess…” I stop. “This is probably going to sound bad.”
“Webb.” Her voice gentles. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“It’s not terrible. I didn’t cheat or anything.
I didn’t break a string of women’s hearts.
I just… I liked being single. I enjoyed meeting women, but I didn’t want the commitment.
That makes me sound like some asshole player.
I know. But I wasn’t an asshole about it.
At least, I tried really hard not to be. ”
Noelle regards me solemnly. “I have a few questions.”
My heart thuds hard. “Okay.”
“Did you ever intentionally lead a woman on?”
My response is immediate. “No. Definitely not.”
“Did you date a bunch of women at the same time? Were you unsafe about it?”
“No. Never. To either of those things.” I grasp Noelle’s hand as I emphasize, “I swear, I was always, always safe. And I know we’re not there… Shit, you may change your mind about me after this, but I’ve been really careful. And I’ve been tested. So—”
She squeezes my hand. “I haven’t changed my mind yet.” After a beat, she adds, “Last question.”
“Alright?”
“If we’re going to keep seeing each other, you won’t go out with any other women, will you? I know things are still new between us, but I wouldn’t be okay with that.”
“Shit, no.” It bursts out; loud enough to catch the attention of one of the guys packing up the movie screen. In a lower voice, I clarify, “Absolutely not, Noelle. I’m not interested in seeing anyone but you.”
After a few agonizing moments of silence, Noelle leans forward and kisses me. “I’m not interested in seeing anyone else, either.”
Then she climbs to her feet and holds her hand out to me. “Are you ready to go?”
I blink at her abrupt change of topic. “Um. Sure.”
“I was thinking,” she adds. “Maybe you could come back to my apartment for a while? We could have a drink, watch a movie…”
My mood, which was on its way to the ground, leaps skyward again. “I’d love to come over.”
She smiles. “Good.”
As I start putting the empty food containers back into the cooler, Noelle picks up the picnic blanket and gives it a hard shake. “I really liked the food you brought, by the way. Especially the tomato sandwiches. I’m going to be thinking about those for a while.”
I take the blanket from her and fold it into neat quarters. “I can’t take the credit, unfortunately. Bea helped. She’s the best cook of any of us. Well, except for grilling. That’s Ace’s thing. But when I told Bea about taking you to the movie in the park, she insisted on helping.”
Noelle tucks her stuffed Bigfoot under her arm. “I’ll have to thank her.” She pauses. “I really liked Bea. And Eden. They’re both so nice. All your friends are.”
Scooping up the cooler, I tuck the folded blanket inside it, then loop the handle over my arm. Just as I’m debating whether I should hold Noelle’s hand or put my free arm around her waist, she glances around and shudders. “I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”
Around her waist it is.
Noelle leans into my side as I put my arm around her.
“I don’t think I’m used to how dark it gets here at night,” she says.
“Where I lived in Portland, it was never completely dark. Or quiet. There was always a neighbor making noise, or a car going by. Plus the streetlights and headlights going by on the street. But in Williston, once it hits ten o’clock, it’s like the entire town shuts down. ”