Chapter 23
A TASTE OF DISTANCE
NATALIE
This week was already slipping through my fingers, and it was only Tuesday, I had a lot to get in. With Thanksgiving looming. I was hyper-aware of how little time I had left with James and Bebe before they went with Jason for a full week.
That night, after dinner, James was sprawled out on the floor, his trucks scattered around him in a precise line only he understood. Bebe was at the table, her head bowed over her coloring book, tongue poking out in concentration as she carefully filled the lines with bright yellows and greens.
“Mom, do you think this needs glitter?” Bebe asked, holding up her page, a smiling unicorn surrounded by a rainbow.
I laughed, leaning against the counter as I watched them. “Sure, why not? Let’s get the glitter,” I replied, even though I’d regret saying yes, the moment I found pieces of it stuck to my light hardwood floors for months, maybe even decades.
But I was in that mode where I said yes to everything, knowing I’d miss them next week when the house would be too quiet again.
Thank goodness Meredith is coming.
Thinking about them being gone shook me up more than I wanted to admit. I was the one who ended things with Jason. The one who decided to split up our family and walk away. And while I kept telling myself it was for the best, there were still moments—like now—when I questioned everything.
They were going to spend Thanksgiving with Jason, not me. And even though I knew that was fair, part of me couldn’t help but feel like it was my penance for stepping outside our marriage and for breaking what we had, even if it had already started to crack.
Later that night, I tucked the kids into bed, clinging to the routine more than I wanted to admit.
James was first, already yawning as I pulled the blanket up to his chin.
“Mom,” he said sleepily, “do we have to go to Dad’s for Thanksgiving?”
I brushed a hand through his hair. “You’ll have so much fun on Thanksgiving with Daddy, Bebe, Nona and Papa.”
“Yeah, but I’ll miss you.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll miss you too. But we’ll have a celebration with Aunt Meredith when you get back. Deal?”
“Deal,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.
Bebe was next. I kissed her goodnight as she clutched her favorite stuffed animal.
“Mom, do you think Dad will let me paint my wall with pink and glitter?”
I laughed softly. “Probably not, but maybe you can get a piece of pink glittery artwork for your wall.”
She smiled; her eyes already heavy with sleep.
I kissed her goodnight and headed to my bedroom.
I wanted to text Will, just to check in. I knew his kids were back with him. I decided to give him space. We both needed it.
The next morning, I went to The City Center to check on some final details for the bakery, boutique, and restaurant. I was going over the layout for the display cases with a contractor when I spotted Lucas across the space, deep in conversation with another worker.
I froze, suddenly realizing I’d never responded to his lunch invitation.
“Excuse me for a minute,” I said to the contractor, handing him my notes.
Lucas looked up as I approached, his easy smile breaking across his face. “Natalie,” he said, stepping toward me. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”
“I wasn’t—well, not on purpose,” I said, feeling a little sheepish. “I meant to text you back, but things have been… busy.”
“Let me guess,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. “The children, work, and the never-ending to-do list?”
“Exactly,” I said, relaxing a little. “What brings you here?”
“I’ve been finalizing the arrangements for the opening week,” he said. “Lori suggested I stop by to ensure everything was in order. I suspect she thinks I’m a bit of a perfectionist.”
We spent the next few minutes discussing details, schedules, events, and some marketing ideas Lucas had. His calm energy and polished tone made the conversation flow casually, and I found myself smiling more than I had all week.
As we wrapped up, Lucas leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving? Spending it with the children?”
“Not this year,” I said, feeling a pang of sadness. “They’ll be with their father this year. It’ll just be my sister and I.”
His face lit up. “Then you must come to mine. Jasper’s cooking, and he’s been positively itching to show off his Thanksgiving menu.
Though between us, it does feel rather absurd for two Brits to be presiding over an American holiday.
You and your sister are most welcome to come to tell us if we pass inspection. ”
I hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to impose—”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted. “You’d be doing us a favor. Jasper thrives on an audience, and I dare say he’s already planned far too much food. It’ll be quite relaxed, I promise.”
The idea of spending Thanksgiving alone with Meredith seemed dull in comparison. “All right,” I said finally. “That does sound lovely. Let me confirm with her, but I think we’d love to join.”
“Splendid,” Lucas said, his smile widening. Then, leaning in, he kissed me on the cheek.
I was a little caught off guard but played it off as a cultural thing.
As I walked back to the contractor, a flicker of guilt settled in my chest. Thanksgiving with Lucas and Jasper sounded easy and enjoyable, something I should have been looking forward to. But my mind wandered to Will.
We hadn’t talked all week, and even though we said we’d take things slow, everything still felt messy. Agreeing to Lucas’s invitation felt like another layer of complication, one I wasn’t sure I had the energy to unpack. What were Will and I even doing?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out, my heart jumping slightly when I saw Will’s name on the screen.
Will: Hope the week is going well. Let me know if you need anything.
What did I need? That was the question I didn’t have an answer for. I slipped my phone back into my pocket, unsure of what to say.
Later that evening, after James and Bebe were in bed and the house had settled into its usual quiet, I picked up my phone. Will’s message still sat unread at the top of my screen. I opened it, staring at his words for longer than I should have before typing out a reply.
Natalie: Sorry, it’s been busy with the kids leading up to Thanksgiving. Hope you’re having a good week.
I hit send and set the phone aside, expecting to feel lighter. But when no response came before I turned in for the night, a strange unease settled in my chest.
The next morning, I woke up and instinctively reached for my phone. Still no message from Will. My stomach twisted slightly, but I forced myself to push the thought aside. There wasn’t time to dwell on it.
James was tearing through the house, looking for his missing shoe, while Bebe stood in front of the mirror, twisting a strand of her hair.
“It’s fine, Bebe,” I said, trying to coax her out of her perfectionist spiral.
“It’s not fine!” she protested, stamping her foot. “It’s not perfect enough!”
Meanwhile, James raced into the kitchen, triumphantly holding up the offending shoe. “Found it!”
“Great. Now both of you, backpacks and shoes—now,” I said, glancing at the clock. “We’re going to be late.”
By the time we made it out the door and through the school drop-off line, I felt like I’d already run a marathon.
When I got back home, the quiet was almost jarring. For a moment, I stood in the entryway, letting the stillness settle over me. Then I headed to the kitchen to prepare for Lisa’s visit.
I set a vase of hydrangeas on the table, carefully fluffing the blooms to make sure each one sat just right. With a potential client coming over, I wanted to look like I had my act together. As I adjusted the final stem, my phone buzzed on the counter.
I glanced at the screen. Will’s name lit up.
Will: All good here. I get it.
I stared at the message for a moment, the tension in my chest easing slightly. His tone was casual, polite, nothing more. Was it a little too casual? I set the phone back down and focused on the flowers, deciding not to dwell on it.
The doorbell rang. I went to answer it, pushing Will’s message to the back of my mind.
Lisa greeted me with a cheerful smile and her arms loaded with a tray of muffins and an assortment of pastries. “I figured you’d want to try a little bit of everything,” she said as I held the door open for her.
“You’re so thoughtful. This is too much, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” I said, guiding her into the kitchen.
“Of, course I did. These are my best sellers,” she said, setting the tray down on the counter.
I poured coffee, and we started going over color pallets and ingredient sourcing for the bakery. Lisa’s passion for her craft was compelling, and for a while, I forgot about the weight of the week.
But then she glanced at me, a curious smile playing on her lips. “So… I was at The City Center the other day meeting with Lori, and I ran into Will Parker.”
My stomach tightened. “Oh?”
She nodded. “Nice guy. Very… composed.”
“Yeah, he is,” I said, keeping my voice even.
Lisa leaned forward, lowering her voice like she was about to share a secret. “What’s his deal? I didn’t see a ring on his finger. He seems… interesting.”
“Interesting?” I repeated, trying to play it off.
“You know. Quiet, but you can tell there’s something going on under the surface. He’s the kind of guy who makes you curious.”
I forced a smile, my mind racing. “He’s definitely good at what he does.”
Lisa tilted her head, studying me. “You work with him a lot, right?”
“Here and there,” I said quickly, reaching for my coffee.
She nodded, mercifully dropping the subject as she turned back to the tray of muffins. But her words lingered. The casual way she’d spoken about Will only stirred my insecurities.
We discussed a few more design options for the bakery.
Trying to stay focused and present, I spent an awfully long time talking about lemons and the merits of yellow and navy.
By the time I had nothing more to give, and our meeting was winding down, Lisa gathered her purse and keys from the counter. I walked her to the door.
“Your home is lovely. I can already tell you will do an amazing job on the bakery.”
“Thank you,” I said. Even though my mind was searching for excuses to get out of this whole arrangement.
I couldn’t shake her interest in Will. And her questions about him.
What was his deal? And why did I feel like I was further from knowing the answer than ever?