Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dahlia’s cheeks hurt from smiling. The morning sun made everything seem brighter.
The cicadas chirped outside the open window, and the candy-colored phlox blooms brought a sweet smell that eased through the kitchen window.
Her laptop was open to a crisp new email addressed to the Whitmore Gallery.
All it said so far was Dear Christine, with Date Extension in the subject line.
Dahlia was unsure what she wanted to do about this job, but asking for a delay was the first step.
She needed more time to figure out if this thing between her and Noah was the real deal.
But she also needed more time to figure out what she wanted.
Dahlia heard the staircase creak, along with whistling.
She closed her computer, not to hide the email but to put it out of her mind for a bit longer, hoping the answer would come to her by tomorrow.
There were more pressing matters to tend to, like kissing Noah for the gazillionth time.
And she wanted to see what his plans were after their summer romance and if the Hamptons House franchise was something he still needed to be a part of.
He walked into the kitchen bare-chested, with damp hair.
His muscles were thick and corded, and his tats were on display.
He looked like a bad boy. And he was all hers.
The fantastic fact wasn’t lost on her, and neither was his forgiveness.
Her insides pulsated, and she wondered if that deep, rooted sensation would ever fade.
She hoped it never would. As foreign as it was, she belonged when she was with him.
Although Dahlia didn’t know where he’d been the past few days, it no longer mattered.
What mattered was they’d weathered a storm and found a compass that led them back home.
“Hi,” he said, wrapping her in a ginormous hulky embrace. “How’s my favorite girl?”
“Favorite, huh? I like the sound of that.” It was certainly a departure from last night’s “good girl.” But she’d take any pet name he’d give her.
Dahlia leaned her head against his. There was a peace about him, one she hadn’t noticed before.
It was like he finally knew how he felt and what he wanted.
Only it was still a secret to her, and she didn’t want to ask.
Not yet, anyway. Knowing would make it harder to make an unbiased decision about Charleston.
He kissed her forehead. “Please, let’s never fight like that again.”
“Never,” she said softly. “Although the makeup sex may have been worth the torturous three days.” Dahlia wrinkled her nose.
“Last night was …” He made a mind-blown gesture with his hands.
Dahlia smiled coyishly, feeling her face flush.
He held her chin between her fingers. She watched as his brows furrowed, like he wanted to get something off his chest. “You make me happy. You make me want to be the best version of myself.”
“I do?” she asked, feeling the weight of that statement in the best possible way.
“I’m just Noah with you. And that seems to be enough for you. I’ve never had that with anyone I’ve dated.”
“You are more than enough,” Dahlia said, loosely wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
He kissed her with a soft sincerity that held depth and certainty, and when he released his lips from hers, she met his glance and point-blank asked him, “What will you do after the summer?”
“I don’t know. Uncle Bruce and Garrett will be back by then.” He looked off toward their house. “I do know I want to be with you, though.”
“And I do you.”
“I have the city apartment that I share with another guy, but I haven’t been there in months. And he’s been asking if I’m ever coming back.”
Dahlia could feel her armpits sweating from dancing around the real issue, which was the show. She wanted her anonymity. “Will you go back to the show next summer?”
Noah stared blankly into the hallway. “My agent has been hounding me, but I haven’t signed the contract yet. They assured me Josie wouldn’t be returning.”
The air in her lungs felt suspended in time while she waited for him to answer the question.
“Honestly, I don’t care what road I’m on as long as I’m with you,” he said, trying to reassure her without answering the question.
Dahlia sighed, trying her best to hide her disappointment.
He didn’t owe her anything. She needed to make this decision on her own.
It was the only way. She nuzzled herself into his burly chest. His body felt warm, and the ground beneath her feet felt solid and firm.
She could have spent hours or even days there in his arms. She looked up at him, and in one look, he hijacked her soul.
The answers would come for both of them, she was sure of it.
“Oh, did you talk to Kara yet?”
“Yes, she couldn’t believe it. This secret had more twists than a country road.” As for what Dahlia said about Aunt Cathy, all Kara said was, “I’m sorry she wasn’t there for you.” Dahlia knew what she meant, and there was no need to talk about it again.
“So, what else is on the agenda for today?” He kissed her nose. She didn’t want to move, let alone think.
“Oh, geez. I still have to call Gene back and Daisy.” It felt good to say that out loud and not hide her like she was a dirty secret. They were making progress. “It’s been a few days, and I have so much to tell them.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Just be yourself, and the rest will follow.”
“My mother used to say that.” These coincidences were starting to add up. The messages from the universe were received loud and clear.
“Smart woman, your mom.”
“Yes, she was.” Dahlia’s eyes felt bright and full of hope. She wondered at that moment if Rose would approve or what advice she would have. Follow your heart, my sweet Dahlia, echoed in her head.
“I have a piece I’m working on for a client. Then we can hit a vineyard later,” he said, giving her one last smooch.
“Perfect.”
This all seemed like one giant jump across a vast canyon, but was she ready to do it without a net? What she learned from Lil and Gene was that there was no certainty in love, no matter how strongly a person’s feelings were, and that was the scariest part of the equation.
Dahlia sat on the bedroom floor, surrounded by Lil’s love story, both with Gene and her mother, Rose.
Black-and-white marbled notebooks, yellowed letters, time-worn paintings, and relics from another time lay in a U-shape around her bare legs.
The jute rug was starting to make dents in her butt, but there was one more phone call to make.
The call to Daisy had gone as well as could be expected, and Noah barely came up.
Daisy was struggling with their new set of circumstances and the idea that Pop was never really biologically theirs.
She, too, felt tricked and blindsided, but Dahlia reassured her that DNA was no match for love or memories, as Noah said.
It would all take time, and right now, Dahlia’s hourglass of sand was starting to run thin. She had some big, life-altering choices to make, and she just prayed she could make them with a clear head.
Harry strolled in and lay beside her, resting his head on her thigh.
Dahlia blew out a cleansing breath, running her hand through his soft black fur.
She picked up her cell and scanned for Gene’s last call.
There was a golf ball–sized lump in her throat that she couldn’t swallow, no matter how hard she tried.
All she had to do was tell him what Lil wanted him to know.
It didn’t mean that anything had to change.
Her pulse grew faster as she scrolled through her calls. Without hesitation, she pressed the Burbank, California, number.
“Hello?” the man answered right away.
“Ah.” Dahlia didn’t know what to call him.
“Is this Dahlia?”
“Yes, sorry, it’s me. I wasn’t sure what to call you.” She shook her head.
“How about Gene, or G for short.”
G for grandfather, she thought. Maybe she did want this connection after all. “That works.”
“How have you been? Has the news settled in?” his frail but eager voice asked.
“I guess you could say I’m slowly coming to terms with my new reality. It’s all been quite shocking to unearth. But I found something important after our call. Lil’s safe deposit key, in a random coffee can.”
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“It was like finding a teardrop in the ocean. I didn’t think I’d ever find it until you mentioned your coffee dates. See, she was collecting these coffee cans for as long as I could remember, but I didn’t know why. She didn’t drink coffee, you know,” she said with an unfocused gaze.
“I’m glad I could help you solve the puzzle.”
“You unlocked everything, literally.” Dahlia took a breath, feeling a smile curl her lips.
“Lil kept a journal. It was filled with messages to you. There were pages from when you were together to when she was pregnant with my mother, Rose. Your daughter. Lil gave her the middle name Ingrid, just like you named your other daughter.”
She could hear his small gasp.
“There’s so much you need to read for yourself. There was a letter in the box, along with my mother’s birth certificate, naming you as the father.”
“Dahlia, I don’t need a paper to confirm what I know in my heart.”
“Well, it’s here if you need it. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m a swindler.”
“Never, darling.”
“Gene, I need to tell you something before I go any further. I don’t want to give you false hope.”
“Go on.”
“My mother, Rose, your daughter, died twenty-five years ago.”
There was a long pause. “I suspected as much when you didn’t mention her. And the fact that you reached out instead of her.”
Dahlia wanted to tell him everything: how smart, kind, and funny she was and how at peace she was before she died, but instead, she told him about his great-granddaughter. She wasn’t sure how Daisy would react if they ever met, but he deserved to know.
“Would you like me to read the letter to you?”