Chapter 13
NORA
Inside the tiny but well-appointed bathroom, I let out a long breath. “Friends,” I reassure my reflection. “We can still be just friends.” I glance quickly to the door as if someone might be standing there hearing me talking to myself. But I guess that would be weirder than me talking to myself.
I take another breath and count to five. I feel marginally better. Still not back to the headspace I want to be in, though. My braids are all frizzed up from sliding around on the seat laughing, so I pull them out, finger combing my hair.
“Or maybe more,” I whisper to myself.
But that’s ridiculous. I’m not coming onto Jude, not in a million years.
Friends it is.
I scrub my face down with a packaged wipe from the little basket. Then I go back to our seat with the intention of just enjoying myself.
But Jude hasn’t ordered beer for us like we used to drink from time to time at home, mostly by his pool in the summer. No, he’s got two flutes on his tray filled with bubbly champagne.
“I decided not to keep the whole bottle, seeing as we’re meeting Cap after,” Jude says.
“Good,” I say, genuinely relieved. I don’t need a repeat of last night.
“But look at this.” Jude pulls the silver dome off his dinner plate. “Lobster and scallops.”
I swallow hard. It looks delicious. But I can’t find the right words to tell him this is too much. Too extravagant, too loud, too…romantic for this situation.
“I got one for you too. Unless you’d rather the filet mignon? But I know how you love seafood.”
I hear Sasha’s voice in my head. Just go with it. Be brave, Nora.
“What, you don’t think it looks good?” He looks stricken.
I sit down. “No.” I pull the lid off mine, too. “It looks amazing.”
“So, enjoy yourself, Green Gables!”
Despite myself, I smile. I cut myself a bite of food and close my eyes at the delicious flavors swirling in my mouth.
“Oh my God.”
“Exactly,” Jude stabs a pile of green beans with his fork. “Besides, if you think this is good, wait’ll you taste the food at Diamant.”
Jude smiles, his mouth full of beans, and suddenly we’re back in our easy, comfortable friendship place.
Jude’s right. If this is what train food tastes like, the meals at a high-end ski resort are going to blow my mind.
And maybe Sasha’s right, too. If this is all I have left with Jude, maybe it can be a taste of what I’ve wanted for so long.
Maybe I can just taste what life can be like with a person I love?
The thought still feels rocky, but I know I’m just getting used to it.
I just need to let go of trying to control myself and how I think things should go.
That was the whole point of spreading my wings and coming over here.
I’ll get my practice here with Jude doing brave things, then maybe that’ll make me better about doing it on my own when he’s gone.
My stomach clenches as I think of him going back home, but I brush that aside with a bite of delicious creamed potatoes.
Jude inspects me, his eyes roving over my hair. “What happened to Anne of Green Gables, Nora?”
I reach up and pat my hair. I’d forgotten to do my braids up again.
Screw it. I look Jude in the eye, pick up the flute, and toss half of it back, all at once. I wipe the back of my mouth with my hand in an extremely unladylike manner. “She’s on vacation.”
I have to press my fingers to my mouth to suppress a burp.
Jude throws his head back and laughs. It’s the most heart-filling sound.
Through the final leg of our trip, I don’t think anything could be better than the relaxed state we’ve found ourselves in.
We drink and eat and just enjoy each other’s company.
Jude shows me photos of the place we’re staying and laughs when my jaw hits the floor.
It’s all glass and Nordic-style structures and furniture, and the spa looks like it easily rivals the world-class one Jude’s family built in their resort.
Sasha waved her hand at me when I tried to pay her back for the train tickets, reminding me her sister runs her travel agency for fun—her family comes from old New York money. Now, Jude’s arranged for me to have an extra room here for a whole week…it’s a bit much.
But Jude waves it off too, even going so far as to look at me like I’m crazy for suggesting I help pay for it.
Jude has money too. Lots of it. Not that he flashes it around much.
But he thinks nothing of investing tens of thousands of dollars on a cool crowdfunding project or eating lobster on a Tuesday if the mood strikes him.
It still feels weird to have him spend it on me though.
“Jude, I can’t believe this place!”
“Yeah. Griff told me about it, actually.”
“Your brother doesn’t seem like he goes for resorts this fancy. He barely spends any time at the Rolling Hills.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s ever stayed here. He knows the people who run it somehow. And he knows my tastes.” Jude grins. “It’s nice, right?”
“A little too nice! Is it close to town? I’ll need access to the town archives and the library, if there is one. Oh God, what if there’s no library?”
Jude laughs. “What a nightmare that would be!”
“Excuse me, it absolutely would!”
“The town’s only a few minutes down the hill. They do it all up for Christmas. It’ll be pretty.”
Even though it’s all around me, in all this I’ve almost forgotten about the holidays. I do love a town done up for the season. It’s one of the non-people things I’m sad about missing back home in Quince Valley.
The attendant comes by and clears our trays.
“Can I see photos of the Rolling Hills?” I ask, reminded I haven’t seen his family’s hotel since the renovations completed earlier this year.
Jude indulges me, flipping through photos of the new east wing, and some upgrades to the recreation facilities, which Jude manages.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say, feeling myself growing sleepy.
“We have a new tennis dome too!” he says.
It’s cute how excited Jude is about how much better this new dome is, even though from the pictures, it’s indistinguishable from the old one.
“Beautiful.” I yawn.
“Right, the minute I start talking about tennis!” Jude makes an exaggerated show of putting his phone away.
“No,” I laugh. “I’m just…that was a lot of rich food.”
“Get used to it.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but that only makes me sleepier. “We had an early morning too, in case you forgot.”
“I didn’t forget,” Jude says, making something tickle in my stomach.
“Hey,” I say, sleepily. “Whatever happened with your agent?”
Jude shifts next to me, suddenly slightly stiff.
I look up. “The idea you had for the non-profit?”
Jude shrugs. “He didn’t think it was a great idea.”
“What? Why not? You like, lit up when you talked about it.”
Jude’s jaw ticks slightly, but he puts on a smile. “Nah. He’s right, it would be too much for me.”
I frown. Jude was so excited about his idea before I left. Had he really just backed down when his agent steered him away? Would he have if I’d been there to support him?
“Well,” Jude says, in a tone that says he clearly wants to change the subject. “You should rest. There’s an hour still before we get to Zurich.” He stretches like he’s tired too.
Another attendant comes by then, with what looks like a pile of blankets. I yawn at the sight of them and take the two he hands me. I’ll try to bring up the tennis camp again later.
“Shoot,” I say, shaking out the blankets. It looked like two, but it’s only one enormous cashmere-like throw, meant for couples.
“We’ll survive sharing a blanket, Nora. It’s not like there’s only one bed.”
I open my mouth to argue, but there isn’t much point. I’m sleepy, the blanket’s here, and we have a whole hour before we’ll be in the back of a car for the rest of the ride.
“Fine,” I say, pulling the blanket up to my chin. “Just don’t hog it like you do the bed.”
Jude does the same on his side. “I would never!”
I laugh as I close my eyes, then lean against the window. But the rattling of the train is too jarring, so I lean back against the seat.
“Come here, Annie,” Jude says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me against his body. “Maybe I should call you Annie Oakley? She didn’t wear the braids, did she?”
I like that nickname better than innocent Anne of Green Gables. “I don’t think so,” I smile, leaning into him and trying not to overthink it.
“How about Shotgun Annie?”
I laugh softly. “I like that.”
I didn’t know if it’s the champagne, or the familiar way Jude gently tucks my head under his chin, but for a moment, the last of the tightness inside of me seems to uncoil. That is, until I think about the risks of sleeping like this.
“Jude?” I ask.
“Mm-hmm?”
“Thanks for waking me up that time. You know, with the macaroni.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “What do you mean? Of course, I’d wake you up. Who wouldn’t?”
I look up at him, trying not to inhale his scent too deeply.
“When I was a kid once, at a sleepover, they watched me when I thought I was chasing the dog. I only woke up with them laughing over me as I flailed, yelling ‘here boy!’ I never”—I yawned—“I never slept in front of anyone else after that.”
“Little shits! I promise to wake you up if I see you acting weird, okay?”
“Thanks.” I smile, but I can’t keep my eyes open. It’s fine. The champagne is my magic bullet. I won’t say or do anything weird. I’ll close my eyes, just for an hour. It’ll be fine.
But just as I’m drifting off, he says, “So wait, you never even let your boyfriends sleep over? Chad? Chip?”
I laugh sleepily. “I never had boyfriends with those names.” I yawn, big and long. “But yeah, you’re the first, Jude.”
Jude doesn’t say anything to that.
“I’m just going to sleep like this for now,” I murmur into his shirt. His heart beats softly under my ear.
“Just for now,” Jude whispers into my hair.