Chapter 15 #2
The stories he told made Dahlia swoon harder.
The fact that things hadn’t just been handed to him, like they had for Spence, was the biggest difference.
There were also unhealed wounds from their childhood that she was pretty sure manifested into their previous unhealthy relationships.
Dahlia’s fear of being alone led her to agree to a marriage where she ironically was more alone.
Saying yes to Spence, a man she’d never loved, had felt safe.
It meant she would never feel the pain of losing that love, like she had with her parents, Gran, Pop, and later Lil.
She was pretty sure Noah’s fear of failure had led him to hang on longer with Josie than he should have too. But that was just speculation.
“Noah, thank you.” She stared at his shirtless torso, knowing in her heart she could do this every day with him. From any logical standpoint, it was too early to have these kinds of feelings. Yet she was.
“My pleasure.” He pulled her chair to him, the feet skidding across the linoleum floor. His gaze lingered.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, stroking her cheek.
“No.” He shook his head. “Thanks for listening. I know some of that was heavy,” he said, leaning closer yet. “I want to tell you how my mom died.”
Dahlia held his trembling hand in reassurance. This felt like a big deal.
“It was a drug overdose, oxycodone. I was thirteen.” His voice cracked.
With his admission, Dahlia felt something shift inside her.
She was the same age when her parents died at the hands of a drunk driver.
“Everyone thought she was getting better. We all thought she was clean, including Don. But …”
“Noah.” She hugged him and didn’t let go.
Suddenly, Dahlia’s childhood didn’t seem so bad.
At least she’d had two loving parents for a time.
“Thank you for telling me.” This seemed like the perfect time to tell him about Daisy.
He had just shared something close to his heart, fearing it might scare her away.
It was only fair to reciprocate. But she didn’t.
She pulled back and gave him a reassuring kiss that said she understood.
“I’ve never been able to be myself with anyone this early on. And I certainly haven’t shared these things about my family, especially about my mom, with many people.”
She grabbed his hand. “Not with Josie?”
“She knew. But we didn’t talk about it. There was an image to keep.” He shrugged his shoulders.
Josie sounded awful, and Dahlia prayed she’d never have to meet her.
“If it’s any consolation, I could tell my ex I was on fire, and he wouldn’t care.
” She caressed his scruffy face with an endearing smile.
“And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what you went through.
No child should ever feel unsafe.” She placed her palm on his scar, knowing the courage it took for him to unearth his past. If only she could do the same. “And I’m so sorry about your mom.”
“It was a long time ago.” He kissed the top of her head and whispered. “I can’t imagine someone not appreciating you. You’re an amazing person. And sexy as hell.”
“Well, thanks.” She hoped he’d still feel the same after he got to know her whole story.
Dahlia wondered if his feelings would wear off once he realized how ordinary she was, and there was still the matter of her daughter.
After all, he was still part of the mega reality television brand known as Hamptons House, and that brought with it its own set of standards.
And she was as plain and basic as white walls.
Or at least that was how she felt after being married to Spence.
“And if I ever see your ex, I’m going to kick his arse for not treating you better.” He snickered, giving her a smooch, this time on her lips. “No one puts you in the corner. Not on my watch.”
Dahlia’s lungs felt expansive. She felt like a heroine whose lover was ready to duel to the end for her. She’d never tire of this feeling. But was she ready to give up everything for a man again? As much as she didn’t want to be, Dahlia was conflicted.
He pecked her playfully one last time before getting up. “Now, let’s get to work.”
She laughed. “Well, okay then.”
“I’ll be power washing the house if you need me for anything at all.” He winked, putting the dishes in the sink.
“I have one more load of laundry to do, and then I’ll be out.”
“Oh, and I need to run back to the restaurant later. I found this amazing old glass case on Marketplace.”
“Aren’t you full of surprises?” Dahlia put the mugs in the sink.
“Want to come with?”
“I’d love to, but I should probably keep going with all this.
” She looked around. “Plus, I have to make some phone calls. Rain check?” She wrapped her hands around his waist like they were old hat at this.
“You’re coming back tonight, right?” Dahlia held her breath, hoping that wasn’t too presumptuous.
They’d already been together for almost twenty-four hours straight.
“If that’s an invite, then yes.”
“Good. Now get out of here and get to work.” She laughed, tapping him on his extremely firm rear.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dahlia looked around the kitchen at the mess that was left.
There was a lightness in her chest. It was an odd reaction to a chore she hated.
Yet this time, she was excited to clean up the counter littered with omelet ingredients because it was their mess.
Hoping to make it to the refrigerator in one trip, she packed her arms, balancing the eggs, cheese, and orange juice.
Eying the milk, inching closer, she reached for it.
And missed. White liquid ran everywhere. “Shit, shit.”
Dahlia dropped the food onto the counter, hearing a thud, and grabbed the hand towel from beside the sink.
The power washer was in full force, sending a gnawing vibration through the old paneled walls.
She tried to corral the flow, but the milk still dripped down the counter and into the crevice between the cabinet and floor.
What a freaking mess. “Haste makes waste,” echoed in her mind.
It was another favorite saying of Gran’s.
Begrudgingly, she continued to wipe, and when the rag was saturated, she brought out another towel from the linen closet.
As she walked back, she saw Wuthering Heights at the corner of the bar, sitting in a puddle.
There was a sharp pain in the back of her throat as she whisper-shouted, “No, no, no.” Dahlia held it up by the spine and wrapped it in the kitchen towel. She leaned against the counter and let out an exaggerated, frustrated sigh.
The cover was sopping wet, and so were the first few pages. Dahlia opened it, trying her best to dry the milk-logged sheets. For the first time, she noticed smeared handwriting on the backside of the cover and looked closer.
L, I know how much you love this book. I want you to have it. With all my love. Forever, G. 1955.
L. Was this to Lil or Lizzie? If it was 1955, it had to be Lil; her Gran and Pop were already married by then, and his name was Leon. None of this made any sense unless it was written to Lil. And who was G? Was he an admirer? A boyfriend?
Lil had never spoken of anyone from her past, let alone a lover.
Gran could have cheated, but she wouldn’t, she couldn’t, she wasn’t that type of person.
Dahlia’s mind spun like an overloaded washing machine.
It could have also been a friendly note, but friends didn’t sign off with all my love. No, the note had to be for Lil.
Dahlia sat down in the closest chair, reckoning with the idea that Lil may have had a lover that Dahlia never knew about.
Her smile grew, then wilted within seconds.
What happened to him? Or her? Dahlia was going back and forth, trying to piece together this new information, when her phone vibrated.
It was Daisy. This wasn’t an ideal time.
She pondered letting it go to voicemail again.
But no, it was her daughter. She had to answer it. What if something was wrong?
“Hi, Daisy.”
“Mom, where have you been? I tried calling you before.”
“Ah, here. I’ve been home.” Dahlia’s voice rose to a squeaky octave. “Why, what’s the emergency? You sound upset.”
“I am.” Daisy started crying. “I almost called Dad when you didn’t answer.”
Dahlia pursed her lips, so relieved she didn’t. Spence didn’t need to have any intel on her life. “Tell me, what’s going on?”
“Mom, Pop’s cousin Louisa isn’t related to us. She doesn’t show up as a match of yours or mine on Ancestry.”
“Okay.” Dahlia stood up.
“I don’t understand. Louisa found Pop’s original birth certificate in a safe in her parents’ basement. I saw it with my own eyes,” Daisy said. “He and Louisa are related.”
Dahlia’s heart began racing. “Maybe it wasn’t his.”
“Mom, she has pictures too; it’s him. Same birthmark on his left hand. So if they were related to each other, why wouldn’t she be related to us?”
“Daisy, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” Then she glanced at the inscription on the book again, and it hit her like a ton of bricks: Gran could have had an affair. Chills ran up her arms. If she had, how did that relate to Daisy’s findings?
“Mom, DNA doesn’t lie.”
“I’m going to do some digging. Everything’s going to be fine,” Dahlia said, feeling her stomach churn. Deep down, she knew they had dug up something no one was prepared for.
Daisy’s voice cracked. “Okay, but something’s not right.”
“We’ll figure this out. In the meantime, go out with your friends. Forget about this.”
“Not sure I can, but I’ll try.” Daisy let out an exhale. “Call me as soon as you find out something. “Like the minute. Promise?”
“I promise. Love you trillions, Daisy girl.”