Chapter 8 The Deal
Eight
The Deal
Nora
I roll the window down and let the early evening air rush over my skin.
That was… unexpected. I always thought Miles was awkward.
But today felt different. Like something finally clicked into place for him.
He was comfortable. Easy. When his niece shoved a plastic tiara onto his head and demanded he wear it, he humored her and immediately asked for a second one for me.
He was funny. Sweet in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Dare I even say endearing?
I wince. I cannot believe I just used endearing to describe Miles.
Tipping my head toward the open window, I let the breeze tangle through my hair, hoping it cools the strange warmth blooming in my cheeks.
The date wasn’t supposed to feel like that.
He was supposed to be polite. Maybe share a random fact or two.
Not be the guy in a glittery tiara entertaining his nieces and nephews.
And yet, if I’m being honest, it was one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.
No pressure. No expectations. Just… comfortable.
What surprised me the most was the crackle of electricity between us in the bounce house especially when my knee brushed against his half-hard cock.
Good thing his nephew interrupted, because it’s hard to say what might’ve happened otherwise.
Caught up in how normal today was, I don’t register my nerves pulling taut until I pull into my mom’s driveway and cut the engine.
When I finally exhale, the breath comes out shallow as if my lungs forgot how to inhale a full one.
It was only a fake date. Nothing more. There’s no reason to be this wound up. I shake it off and step out of the SUV.
The house is dark when I enter. “Hey, Mom.” I kick off my shoes by the door. “Why is it so gloomy in here? You should open a curtain or two.”
I reach the living room. She’s sitting in her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap, staring toward the window without really looking at anything.
“Want me to open these?” I ask, softer now.
“No.”
I pause. “Okay… Is everything alright? You usually like watching the birds. Has the pileated woodpecker made his return yet?”
“Not today.” Her gaze drops to her hands. “It just reminds me of everything I can’t do.”
I lower myself onto the couch beside her. “Bad day?”
“You could say that.”
My hand settles gently on her knee. “Do you want to talk about it? I can make some tea.”
“No, I’m fine.”
I glance at her, then around the dim room. “Sitting in the dark isn’t fine.”
She sighs. “Do you remember when you were little and we used to go hiking?”
“Yeah.” I already know where this is going.
“We turned it into a game. Counting the birds, spotting animals, looking for agates and flowers.” A faint smile tugs at her lips. “I’ll never forget the day when you found your first lady slipper. You called it a plant monster.”
A small laugh slips out. “Why they named that the state flower, I’ll never know.”
Her smile fades just as quickly. “Now those things are just… memories. Not something I can easily do anymore.”
I fold my arms loosely around myself as the faint chatter of the TV fills the room along with the hum of the fridge kicking on, and the soft tick of the clock hanging on the wall.
Everything keeps working, keeps moving. But Mom doesn’t get that luxury anymore.
Her MS took something she loved. Something that made her feel free, and for once, I don’t have a solution waiting in my back pocket.
“We—” I hesitate, then try anyway. “We could go to the park. With the leaves changing it would be really pretty. And they have paved trails. We could bring your wheelchair in case you get tired.”
She shakes her head. “It’s not the same. Those trails are limited. They don’t feel… wild.”
“I know,” I murmur. “But the fresh air might still help. We could plan something simple. Sit by the lake. People-watch. Listen to the water.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she exhales. “Sure, we can do that.”
My shoulders relax an inch. I reach for her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll make it ours.”
She squeezes back. “I’d like that.”
Sitting there together in the dim light, I’m reminded that things change, sometimes permanently, but it doesn’t have to be the end. Even if it’s not the same, it can still be enough.
My phone rings. Miles’s name flashes across the screen.
I stare at it for a second then send it straight to voicemail.
He probably wants more dating advice. Or reassurance.
Or a detailed analysis of body language cues.
And I don’t have the bandwidth for any of that right now.
All I want is this quiet moment with my mom and for one thing in my life not asking me to fix it.
The next day, after the opening shift at Porter’s, I finally check the voicemail.
“Hi, Nora. Um—thank you again for being my date at my niece’s birthday party. I had a really great time. But I have a problem. Please call me back so we can… discuss.”
I groan. Called it. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off. I dial his number. It rings a few times before he picks up.
“Hi, Miles. You called?”
“Yes. I need—you.”
“What?”
“About the birth—I mean—I need—but now my—”
A deafening roar blasts through the line. I wince and pull the phone away from my ear. “What was that? I can barely hear you. Where are you?”
“Oh—sorry! I’m at the RC park!” he shouts. “Planes—off. Including—jet turbine. Loudest one here.”
“What?”
“—radio-controlled—flying—”
“Where. Are. You.”
“Sunrise Park. Rice Lake Road.”
I blink. “I know where that is. I’m five minutes away. Stay there.”
A few minutes later, I pull in and step out of my SUV fully expecting an empty field.
Instead, I’m met with what resembles a miniature airport.
A long strip of blacktop cuts through the grass with orange cones marking invisible boundaries.
Wooden tables sit a few feet from the blacktop covered in wires, batteries, and controllers.
Drones and small planes buzz overhead, darting and diving while a cluster of people stare up at the sky as if they’re watching a low-budget air show.
It’s loud, busy, but somehow still organized.
I follow the noise to a paved launch area where I spot Miles hunched over a wooden table, completely absorbed in adjusting a drone.
“Hi, Miles,” I call, lifting a hand.
He startles, then looks up and smiles. “Hi, Nora.”
“What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Got that part.”
“So my family—”
“Hey, Miles! You’re up!” a guy calls from the far table.
“Thanks, Jordan.” He glances back at me. “It’s my turn to take off.”
“You have scheduled takeoff times?”
“Yeah. When it’s busy. No one wants a midair collision.”
“So… basically a real airport.”
“It kind of is.”
I glance around again, taking in the controlled chaos overhead. “This is way more intense than I expected.”
He grins, a spark of excitement replacing the earlier tension. “Wait. I’ll show you the cool part. Put these on.”
He hands me a massive pair of goggles. I frown as I turn them over in my hands, inspecting the bulky frame, the lens inside, the tiny antennas sticking out of the top, and the elastic strap that makes the whole thing look like it belongs in a sci-fi movie.
“What are these?”
“FPV goggles.”
“FPV?”
“First-person view. There’s a camera on my drone, so you’ll see exactly what it sees. Do you get motion sickness?”
“Generally, no.”
“If you start to feel nauseous, sit down.” He gestures toward a folding chair nearby.
I nod and slide the goggles over my eyes, shifting them until they sit comfortably.
His fingers brush mine. “Sorry. Let me adjust the strap.” He tightens it slightly. “How’s that?”
“Good.”
The screen flickers to life, and suddenly the entire field fills my vision. A second later, the drone lifts off with a soft whir.
“Oh my god,” I breathe. “This is incredible.”
“Just wait.”
“I can see us.” I wave instinctively and let out a small laugh.
The view dips and glides, swooping past a wall of trees.
I flinch as we narrowly miss a branch. My hand automatically finds his bicep, needing a grounding point. “This is like a roller coaster.”
“Except we’re not moving.”
“It’s amazing how things can fly. Drones. Airplanes. Those are so big and heavy.”
“It’s called lift. The thrust generates an upward force under the wings, or propellers in this case, and keeps it airborne.”
A smile tugs at my mouth at the random fact as he continues guiding the drone, subtly demonstrating exactly what he just explained. It climbs higher, zipping above the tree line until the lake comes into view.
“That’s… beautiful,” I whisper. My mom would love this. Being able to see nature without the exhaustion. Without the pain. Like she could be wild and free again, even if it’s only through a screen.
The drone suddenly dips, this time diving into the trees. My body instinctively sways as it veers left, then right. It bobs and weaves through branches filled with red, orange, and yellow leaves before sweeping back out over the field and landing neatly at our feet.
I pull the goggles off, a little breathless. “That was incredible. And you do this for work?”
“Yeah. People love aerial footage. It’s the best way to get perspective.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry for interrupting our conversation earlier.”
“Totally worth the interruption.” I hand the goggles back. “What did you want to talk about?”
He hesitates. “Would you… go on another date with me?”
I blink. “Generally speaking, OneDate is one date. That’s kind of the whole premise.”
“Well.” He winces. “After my niece’s party… my family now thinks we’re dating.”
“…Excuse me?”
“They want me to invite you over for dinner.”
I stare at him. “Why would they think that?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, as if not looking at me might somehow soften the request. “Because I told them.”
I smack his arm. “What the hell, Miles?”
“I’ve accepted that you might strangle me,” he replies calmly as he lowers himself onto his knees.
My eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
“This makes it easier.”
“Stand up.” I grab his sleeve and tug. “Start from the beginning. How are we suddenly dating?”
“It’s only casual dating.” He says it like the words casual dating carry no real weight.
I glare at him, and he immediately flinches.
“After you left, my family asked a lot of questions. They kept saying how much they loved seeing me with someone, and it just… came out. Then they told me to invite you to dinner.”
I press my fingers to my temples. “Dinner.”
“We get together once a month,” he explains quickly. “It’s mostly an excuse for my sisters to hang out while the kids entertain themselves. Or I could tell them I broke things off with you.”
“You broke things off with me?” I stare at him. “Out of all the possible solutions, that’s the one you landed on?”
“Okay. You broke up with me.” He nods like this is a reasonable revision. “But maybe after dinner? It’s too soon to try and get another date through OneDate.”
I pinch my eyes shut. I won’t lie; I had the teeniest bit of fun hanging out with his family. But still, what the hell did I get myself into? I’m now fake dating Miles. And yet…
“You know what,” I say slowly. “I have a proposition for you.” Chances are, I’ll regret this later, but after seeing my mom the other day, I think this would cut through some of the darkness.
“I’ll be your fake date again. Family dinner.
Smiling. Handholding. The full, convincing girlfriend package. ”
His eyes go wide. “Really?”
“On one condition.”
He nods immediately. “Okay. Deal.”
I blink, my brows pulling together. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“I’m optimistic.” He shrugs. “What’s the condition?”
My gaze drops to the ground for a moment before I gather myself. “You take my mom drone flying.” When he doesn’t respond right away, I lift my chin and meet his eyes.
“Like… around the field?”
“Maybe along one of the trails through the woods. And the lake views would be really nice too.”
He tilts his head. “Is she a drone enthusiast?”
A soft snort escapes me. “No. She’s a nature enthusiast. Or she used to be.” My voice quiets. “She loves hiking. Being outside. But the last few years… it’s harder. Her MS makes her tire out easily.”
Miles doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t rush to fill the silence with sympathy or platitudes. He just watches me, his whiskey-brown eyes steady and attentive.
“I thought,” I continue, “if she could be outside. Smell the trees. Feel the wind. Hear the lake. To be immersed in the outdoors without having to do all the walking, she could be free again. At least for a little while.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he nods. “Yeah, I’d love to do that for her.”
The tension in my shoulders fades away, and my jaw finally unclenches. I force a hint of casualness back into my tone. “Maybe next weekend?”
He smiles. “Sounds good.”
The deal is made. Another fake date in exchange for a drone flight. I’m doing this for Mom.
I repeat the thought to myself like a mantra.