Chapter 31 Home, Home, Home Again
After losing ourselves in a lusty make out session, and his promise to text me later, Noah finally unlocks his car and lets me out in front of my house.
I lug my duffle, and the tote of wine from Cheryl that he insisted I take, up the worn porch stairs and pull out my keys.
The door swings open before I have a chance to unlock it, Kara standing there beaming at me.
“Oh my god, I knew it. You had sex!”
I stutter, discombobulated by her immediate attack, and nearly fall over when I see Henrietta and Nan sitting on our worn, floral couch behind her.
Even if I was going to tell her, now is definitely not the time.
Confusion sputters as I step inside and drop my bag.
Noah’s car has incredibly dark windows, so there’s no way she could have seen our kiss.
“Hi to you too, roomie.”
I cross over and hug Nan before sinking into the green velour chair under the window.
“You’re not denying it,” Kara says, flitting in and plopping herself onto the footrest we use as extra seating when we have guests.
“I’m also not confirming it. Because it's an entirely inappropriate conversation while we have company.”
“I knew it.” Kara beams.
“Don’t mind us,” Nan chimes, sipping on her tea. “We are just as eager to hear.”
“There’s nothing to hear. Now, what trouble have the three of you been getting into while I’ve been gone? How did the store launch go?”
“It was fine,” Kara says, waving her hand. “Sold out in an hour.”
“That’s great!”
Henrietta leans over and whispers something to Nan who chuckles and nods. I narrow my eyes.
“What are you two whispering about?”
This time it’s Nan who waves me off as she brings her tea to her lips again. “Just the mumblings of some old women, dear. How was your trip?”
“It was—”
My phone chimes from my duffle bag and Kara’s eyes light up.
She knows the only people, aside from her, who text me are work colleagues or the people I’m hooking up with.
Ironically, the person who is most likely the cause of that damned chirp is two of those things.
We share a silent exchange where I’m trying hard to say ‘don’t you dare,’ and her face is bright with a devilish grin. The text tone rings out again.
“Is someone going to check that?” Henrietta prods.
Kara scrambles off her foot rest, practically tripping over the edge of the rug. “I’ll get it for you.”
“That’s okay,” I cry out, lunging for her and falling short. I land on the floor with a grunt. “I’ll check it later.”
My dismissal is ignored and Kara slips my phone out of the pocket on my duffle. Even though I know she can’t read the message—thank god for biometrics—the look on her face proves she doesn’t need to see the contents.
“My god, Lottie,” Nan chuckles. “Are you alright?”
I blush and Kara drops my phone into my palm. Sure enough, Noah’s name pops up—the message appearing as my phone unlocks.
Noah
Is it later yet?
It’s been ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. The smile breaking across my cheeks betrays me and Kara squeals.
“Just tell us already, dammit. I can’t take it anymore.”
Twirling on the floor and sitting up, I take a deep breath. The three women beaming down at me all lean forward.
“I forgot my sweater in his car.”
“Sure you did. After he stripped it off you.”
“Kara.”
“Whatever. You’ll tell me later.” She turns to Nan and Henrietta with a wink “Don’t worry ladies, we’re bonded now. I’ll fill you in.”
They all chuckle and I scowl. “I knew leaving you all for the weekend was a bad idea. Remind me to never do it again.”
“I hope you intend to bring him to our party next week,” Nan says, ignoring my denial. “I’d like to meet the man who has you glowing like this.”
“I’m not glowing. What party?”
“That’s what we were discussing when you got home,” Kara explains.
Henrietta chimes in next. “The apartment across the hall from mine is vacant and Nan is moving in! We’re having a housewarming party.”
After the news with the storefront, this is a welcome surprise. I scoot across the floor towards Nan and take her hand, giving it a good squeeze.
“This is great news. I’m relieved they finally got back to us.”
“It’s normal news,” she says. “People move all the time.”
A typical Nan response if I’ve ever heard one. Kara snorts and I join in with a laugh, addressing my surrogate grandma.
“Remember when you retired and Bitsy wanted to throw you a party but you refused and had the locks changed?”
“Yes, and yet you still managed to pull off a ridiculous affair. A bunch of needless hullabaloo.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn back to Kara.
“What have you decided so far?”
She throws a sidelong glance to the two women on the couch.
“I suggested ‘I flew the coop,’ as a theme, you know, like a call back to empty nesters. Chickens are very hot in the Etsy party planning scene and I found this shop based out of central Oregon that specializes in chicken paraphernalia. It’s a whole thing with the town. ”
“But I vetoed that one,” Henrietta says. “She’s moving into an old folks home, not running from a sanitarium.”
I laugh, the banter between them wrapping me in the comfort of home. Nan pipes up next, clearly frustrated with the entirety of it.
“I said, there shouldn’t be a theme—or decorations, it’s a silly thing. We’ll move some boxes and I’ll make brownies and that will be the end of it.”
“You can’t make brownies for your own party,” Kara counters.
“It’s not a party. And even if it were, if it’s my party, I should be able to do what I damn well please.”
“What about,” I interrupt, “a simple ‘Home Sweet Home’?”
Nan sits back defeated and raises her palms. “You three figure whatever you want, but I’m still making brownies.”
After a few cups of tea, and some more playful arguing about the plans for Nan’s party, I help her down the front porch stairs and towards Kara’s car. She stops us before reaching the sidewalk and I look her over and glance back at the house.
“Are you alright? Did you forget something?”
Her palm finds my cheek, a warm smile still wrinkling her eyes. “I am so proud of you.”
I scoff. “Because I talked Kara out of a pinata for your party? I wouldn’t be sure she won’t try to sneak one in.”
“Because you’re giving someone a chance.”
I sober, realizing she saw through my lies about not sleeping with Noah. Just as I did as a teenager, I try to back my way out of it.
“I didn’t. We didn’t”
“Don’t lie to me, Lottie.”
“I don’t even know what it is yet. That’s why I’m not telling Kara.”
“Suit yourself. I’m proud of you regardless. Always have been, kid.”
“Yes, well. There is a very good chance I am going to blow it up before it gets anywhere. I’m sure he’ll be running with his tail tucked between his legs before too long.”
“Stop that.” Her words are sharp as a slap—the tone she used to take when lecturing me as a child.
“You are not an unloveable monster, Charlotte Wren. Stop acting like one. You are good. You’ve proven time and time again your ability to get up after life kicks you to the dust. Let the man in. Let him see it.”
I’m not sure if it’s the pep talk, or the overall emotional toll today has already taken, but tears spring into my eyes and I wrap my arms around her. The soft floral musk I associate with my childhood seeps into my skin, potent and undiluted and not letting up even after she straightens.
“Don’t ruin it before it has a chance to get started. And bring him to my party. Henrietta has been bragging about her handsome sons for years and I could use the advantage. My stories about you lost their charm years ago. We ladies need some fresh meat to discuss.”
“Oh my god, Nan.” I roll my eyes, but she’s still staring at me. “I’ll see if he’s available. No promises.”
Satisfied, she smiles and steps towards the car where Kara and Henrietta are still playfully bickering. Once loaded in, Nan blows me a kiss as Kara pulls away from the curb.
My phone sitting on the coffee table reminds me I never responded to Noah’s text.
I pick it up and slump onto the couch, biting my lip as I consider how I want to respond.
I fight the urge to apologize, feeling old habits niggling their way through.
I don’t apologize for living my life. Not anymore.
Lottie
Later is subjective. Plus, dating norms dictate you’re supposed to wait a standard three days before texting, so you’ve already broken tradition.
Noah
Yes, and clearly we’ve followed those thus far.
Lottie
We’re not very good at following the rules.
Noah
No. I suppose we aren’t.
His response leaves the conversation stalled, so I slip my phone in my pocket and grab my bag before heading back to my room to unpack.
I’m throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper, and dreading the thought of doing laundry, when Kara comes barreling in through the front door and marches down the hallway.
She throws herself across my bed and props herself up on her elbow, her cheek resting in her palm.
“What?”
“Oh nothing. I just came in to say I fucking told you so! I knew you weren’t going to be able to resist that man. The chemistry was too hot.”
“You met him—sort of—twice. And you were very drunk the first time and half asleep the second. And we didn’t have sex.”
“I don’t know why you won’t just tell me; I won’t even make you pay my half of rent . . .”
Her voice trails off as if she’s hoping that was the reason I wouldn’t spill.
“Sorry babes, I won that bet fair and square. Kept it in my pants all weekend.”
“Boo.”
She rolls over to stare at my ceiling as I continue to unpack.
I feel a little guilty for lying, but the thought of opening up about the newness of this relationship still makes my skin crawl.
I figure I’ll still slip my half of rent to our landlord, and by the time she finds out, I might be ready to tell her.
“Well fine then, if you aren’t going to come clean even though I can smell sex all over you, I’m going to go work on my puzzle.”
“Puzzle?”
“Yeah.” Her face lights up. “Henrietta let me borrow it. I sort of judged them before but I learned they are far more soothing than people give them credit for.”
“Are you going by Blanche or Sophie these days?”
“Excuse you, I am clearly the Dorothy of the lot. Those two biddies would be lost without me.”