Noelle's Kiss

by Cindy R. Williams

  “A gymnast.” I grinned at her as I tapped the end of her cute little nose.

  “That’s what I said, a gymnaster.” She jutted her chin out. Oh my. We Frost women were known for being stubborn. My little darling had it in spades. I gave her a big hug.

  “Okay. Let’s get up and make the bed, get dressed, and…” I glanced at the clock. “Ah—oh. We need to leave in fifteen minutes to get to ‘gymnaster’ class.”

  ****

  Tatum and I held hands as we skipped down the hall in the Olympic Training Facility.

  “Mommy, look at that man. He’s as tall as a tree.” Tatum pointed.

  “It’s not nice to point,” I reminded her, then caught my breath. It was the basketball player with those incredible green eyes and lopsided grin.

  “But it’s true.” Tatum smiled up at me.

  “Hello, Ms. Frost. It’s good to see you again,” said the tree.

  “Hello, Mr. Trayce.” I smiled.

  “It’s Xavier. But please, call me Zave.”

  “Zave?” I tilted my head as I looked up at the good-looking man.

  “Yes. Z-a-v-e, rhymes with Dave. I know it’s not an X, but it works. I’ve always wished we wrote phonetically, especially with a name like mine.” He smiled at me.

  A little frog bounced around in my stomach. I really liked that smile. He sure looked delicious for so early on a Saturday morning.

  “Mommy, I’m gonna be late.” Tatum tugged on my arm.

  “Well, hello, little one. Do you belong to this lovely lady?” Zave knelt on one knee, then lowered himself all the way down to Tatum’s eye level, which was quite a feat to watch.

  “Yes, I’m her big girl. I’m a gymnaster. Are you a giant?”

  I couldn’t stop a chuckle from escaping my lips but rallied fast. “No, honey, Zave is not a giant. He’s a basketball player.”

  “Oh, that is a good thing for giants to do. Are you any good?” Tatum asked without missing a beat.

  “Well, I do know how to run up and down the basketball court, and I try my best to put that pesky orange ball in the hoop. How about you? Are you a good gymnaster?” Zave remained squatting down as he spoke to Tatum.

  “Uh huh. I can do flipper-doodles.” She grinned, eyes sparkling.

  “Well, then you really are a gymnaster. Would you and your mommy like to have some ice cream with me today after your class?” Zave smiled at Tatum and then looked up at me.

  The sunlight from the wall of windows in the hallway flashed in those green eyes, making them as brilliant as an ocean along a white, sandy beach in some travel brochure. My heart sped up as if it were a running wheel for a little chipmunk.

  “Can we, Mommy?” Tatum tugged my hand.

  “Can we what?” I’d lost all train of thought in those eyes.

  Zave rose to a standing position, that big lopsided grin splitting his cheeks. “Ice cream. May I buy you two some ice cream today?”

  “Please, please. Can we have some ice cream with Tree?” Tatum tugged at my hand.

  “Tatum…Zave is not a tree or a giant.” My cheeks warmed.

  Zave laughed a full belly laugh. Soon Tatum and I joined him.

  “There you are, Triple X. I’ve been looking all over for you, baby. You’re taking me to lunch today.” A tall, scantily dressed, high-heeled, fluffy-ginger-haired girl sidled up to Zave.

  My heart dropped. The woman looked as if she’d stepped out of a magazine.

  All laughter stopped. Zave’s face turned bright red.

  I had no idea trees could turn red.

  “Uh…” he stumbled.

  “No worries. We have plans today. It was good to see you. Come on, sweetie, time for class.” I pulled Tatum down the hall as quickly as possible, her little legs almost running. My stomach hurt—or was it my heart? I’d only seen this guy two times. Forget him.

  I pulled Tatum out of her class a few minutes early, and we exited through a side door. I wanted to leave quickly, in case Zave was waiting for us in the hall. He’s a player, I decided, and I don’t need any more players.

  Chapter Four

  “Hi, Joy.” I dropped a bright pink tote bag with some things Tatum might need for the afternoon on a chair in Joy’s kitchen.

  “Aunt Elle.” Three hooligans attacked me from behind, almost knocking me down.

  “What are you guys, ninjas or something?” I turned around to give my nephews a group hug. They laughed and ran back out of the room, Tatum chasing after them.

  “Thanks for watching Tatum, sis. Until I get a little seniority, I’m stuck working the Saturday shift.”

  “I’m happy to do it. Tatum is easy compared to the boys. Besides they seem to behave better when she’s here.” She looked back at me and grinned. “My hoodlums made a fort out of blankets and boxes in the family room. I promised them they could eat pizza and watch Scooby Doo.” Joy dried her hands on a towel and leaned over to give me a hug.

  “I should be home shortly after the six o’clock broadcast. I really do appreciate you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you to tend Tatum so I could go back to work after the divorce, and Mom and Dad…” We both teared up a little. “It’s still so hard, isn’t it?” I said with a lump in my throat.

  “Yes, I miss them every day. I wish they were here to be a part of our children’s lives.” Joy straightened her shoulders and added, “Well it’s up to us to make sure we share plenty of stories about them with the kids, so they’ll know them in their hearts.”

  “Right…” I gave her a sad smile, then glanced around the large, warm, and tidy kitchen. I was glad Joy and her kids lived in our childhood home. It made the most sense for them to be there. I noticed the time on our mother’s old, kitschy, tail-twitching, round-eyed black-cat clock.

  “I’ve got to run. I have a story at the Rose Conservatory today. It’s soft news—no shooting, death, fighting, or anything—just a nice story about people doing something good for the community. See you, and thanks again, sis.” I hugged her quick, called out, “Bye. Tatum,” and hurried out the door.

  ****

  “Thank you, Dr. Rasmussen. That was a lovely story. One of the more pleasant ones I’ve been asked to cover.” I shook his hand.

  “Ronald, please call me Ronald. My doctorate is a PhD, and unless you are one of my students at Pikes Peak Community College, no need to include my title before my name.” Not letting go of my hand, he continued. “I am glad you mentioned that your favorite roses were the pink mini-roses. Many scholars in the scientific community ignore them. You see, miniature roses are nothing more than hybrids, accentuating small blooms, which is a major fault in roses. Not many inside the community see beauty in their failure.” The man looked at me through smudged, round spectacles.

  Oops, I didn’t know mini roses were frowned upon by rose experts. “I think they’re lovely,” I said quietly, not wanting to start a debate.

  “Yes, you said that when talking to me on the camera…well…even so, I believe I would like to invite you to accompany me to my lecture Thursday night in the Rose Auditorium here on campus. As a renowned authority in the American Rose Society on the Rosa Glauea, or Red Leaf Rose, I have been asked to speak on its success in producing wide hips on its flower in its second bloom.” He lowered his chin and peered at me above his glasses. “It should prove extremely interesting. Rosa Glauea has a low sucker rate, making it such a titillating subject to cover. As a matter of fact, it reminds me of you.” He squeezed my hand as if to make his point.

  I pulled my hand away gently from his clammy one. Oh no, I groaned inwardly. Dr. Rasmussen seemed like a nice man, but he wasn’t my type. Plus, I think he just told me I have wide hips. Other than that, the man had brains but lacked the self-awareness that he might be overzealous in his field—or umm, boring. Sure, he was tall, but it was that awkward tall, as if he shot up too fast when he was a teenager and never outgrew that gangly stage. His clothes hung off his bony shoulders like a sack on a coat rack.

&nbs
p; That wasn’t so bad, but his breath smelled like day-old fish. When I interviewed him on camera, he had a way of squinting one eye as he looked at me as if he were examining one of his precious roses and looking for aphids. I guess he decided I wasn’t a host for bugs after all.

  “Noelle—I may call you Noelle, may I not? About Thursday?” He actually tapped his foot a few times.

  Zave’s image flitted through my mind. Dr. Rasmussen was nothing like him. Maybe Chrissy was right. Maybe I ought to try going out with someone completely different. I heard myself say, “Certainly, Dr. Rasmu—Ronald. I would enjoy attending your lecture.”

  The man grasped my hand once again. “It starts at seven p.m. sharp. Please arrive a half hour early. I’d like to introduce you to some of the top roseologists in the country. I do believe you will find it an honor being on my arm. I’m sure you will know to dress scholarly, not like a television personage.” He turned his squint on my attire and frowned. “A black dress with pearls would be most appropriate.” He looked at my feet and added, “None of those high-heeled shoes. Sensible flats would be best.”

  Oh my, I wondered, what had I gotten myself into? This guy couldn’t be for real. Stop it. Give him a chance. I might as well check out his world. At least it would get my sisters off my back. I disengaged my hand from his surprisingly strong hold and nodded my head to Freddy, my favorite camera man. It was time to go.

  “Thank you again, Dr.—Ronald. I will be prompt Thursday, and yes, I have a black dress and pearls.” I stopped talking before any negative thoughts going through my head jumped out. I dreaded this upcoming date, my attitude already on the sour side of anticipation.

  ****

  “Mommy, we saw you on TV tonight. You looked so pretty. Can we go see the roses?” Tatum ran at me with her arms opened wide.

  My heart swelled as I picked her up and gave her a big squeeze, smelling the soft scent of vanilla shampoo. My back gave a tweak. My little angel was getting too heavy to sweep up into my arms like this.

  “You want to see the roses? Sure, sweetie. One evening this week. What did you and your ninja cousins do today?”

  “We fought the black zoodah.” Her little heart-shaped face looked so serious.

  “The what?”

  “The black zoodah. It’s a giant Gila monster. If it bites you, it never lets go.”

  “Charlie brought a book home from the school library on Gila monsters. He was thrilled to death to scare his little brothers with it—Tatum, too.” Joy came into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. “You two want to stay for dinner? Tuna casserole’s in the oven.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tatum’s nose scrunch.

  “Thanks, sis, but no thanks. I think I’ll take Tatum out for a burger tonight. Are you game, little gymnaster?”

  “Sure.” She patted my cheeks, and I set her down and took her hand.

  “Before you go, I want to ask you what is going on in your love life. Any dates?” Joy had her hands on her hips in a big-sister stance.

  “As a matter of fact, I have a date this Thursday night with Dr. Rasmussen, the rose specialist I did the interview with today. Can Tatum stay with you and the boys from six twenty until around ten that evening?” I watched as Joy’s mouth fell open. I laughed. I hadn’t had a date in at least six months, and she knew it. All my sisters kept up on each other’s dating lives. We were nosy that way.

  “He isn’t your usual…uh…jock?” She frowned.

  Tatum wrinkled her nose again. “Does that mean he’s gonna be my new daddy?”

  Stunned, I said, “No, of course not. It means that I will go listen to him talk, then come right back home. He’s just a friend. You know, like Hunter is your friend at school.”

  “Oh, Hunter’s my boyfriend. We’re going to get married when we’re eight and have five children.” Tatum’s eyes lit up.

  “Is that right?” I bit my lip.

  She nodded her head and grinned as if it were so because she said so.

  Oh, the optimism of youth.

  “Yup. But, Mommy, how ’bout you marry Tree Man? I liked him. He can be my daddy.”

  Joy interjected, “Who is Tree Man?”

  I froze. No, this couldn’t be. I wasn’t ready to talk about Zave to anyone, but Chrissy. Besides, there really wasn’t anything to say. I looked from Tatum to Joy.

  Tatum offered her five-year-old wisdom. “He’s a giant. We were supposed to eat ice cream, but we snucked out.” She leaned toward Joy like she was going to share a secret and added, “I don’t think he likes that other lady. I think he likes Mommy.”

  “Noelle Belle Frost, what is she talking about?” Joy’s hands were in fists this time when she placed them on her hips.

  Darn, I had to clear this up. “Nothing. Nothing, really. I ran into Zave, I mean Xavier Trayce, the Denver Nuggets basketball player, last week. Then Tatum and I saw him again at the Olympic Training Facility before her gymnastics class this morning. I guess he made a good impression on her.” I looked Joy straight in the eyes, hoping she couldn’t read the hope and then disappointment in my own.

  After a moment she dropped her hands to her sides and said, “Okay, then. If any more exciting man-sightings happen to you, I want to know about it. You hear?”

  “Yes, bossy big sister,” I said, then sighed with relief. I gave Joy a quick hug. “Thanks again, sis. See you Thursday evening. Let’s go, my tattletale little angel.” I grabbed Tatum’s hand and her tote bag and escaped before my sister thought up any more questions.

  Chapter Five

  It seemed that when you dreaded something, it came even faster. I couldn’t believe I’d committed to go to a lecture on roses with Dr. Rasmussen. I had sure set myself up for a dull night. I dropped Tatum off to play with the Ninja Warriors and then spent the rest of the driving time giving myself a pep talk. “Come on, Elle, give it a chance. You might be surprised. Attitude is everything. Dr. Rasmussen might turn out to be the guy of your dreams.”

  My deep inner, hopeful self voiced this aloud to my outer skeptical ears. The image of a tree of a man with striking green eyes flashed in my mind. I scolded myself and pushed it away. I wasn’t really ready for a man in my life anyway. “Men aren’t trustworthy,” I told that bothersome voice.

  “Time to get out, Elle. This could be a great evening.” My rah-rah talk got me out of the car. I adjusted my black dress and pearls, which I would have worn even if the good doctor hadn’t suggested it. I grinned and glanced at my heels. “Nope, Dr. Rasmussen, I won’t be ordered around ever again by any man.”

  I forced myself to walk into the auditorium with quiet dignity. Dr. Rasmussen was standing on the stage, visiting with some dusty-looking older gentlemen. I walked to the front and waited within his line of sight.

  Compared to Zave, the man was not much of a looker. “Oh, just stop it right now, Elle.” It was a good thing I was too far away for the doctor to hear my outburst.

  “Noelle. Please come and join us. I would like you to meet my distinguished colleagues.” The doctor bounced on the balls of his feet in what might have been excitement.

  I took the stairs near them. As I approached, I found myself moving slower and slower. “Just go.” I scolded myself.

  “I beg your pardon?” the doctor said.

  I must have turned red. I really need to get control of my “speaking-to-myself-out-loud” thing. “Oh, I’m sorry; did I say that out loud?”

  The small group stared at me. Awkward.

  “Hello, I’m Noelle Frost.” I pasted on my most brilliant TV-reporter smile.

  Dr. Rasmussen kicked into gear with introductions of doctor of this, expert of that, and presidents of local Rose Society Chapters. One mousy little lady glared hard at me, then turned her back and stepped closer to Dr. Rasmussen.

  Oh, she must be enamored with him. Now there was something I could focus on tonight. I’d see if I could help two nice people get together. They seemed to be a perfect match.

 
; After the introductions, the various “rose people” ignored me and shared “rose talk.” I was totally out of my element; other than color and their lovely scent, I was lost. I slipped away and found a seat on the second row near the end.

  The lecture turned out as I feared—dry, drier, and driest. I dozed off several times, awaking periodically to eyes boring into me. The little mousy lady could do the “dagger eyes” with perfection.

  Afterward at the small reception for the elite in the field of roses, Dr. Rasmussen pulled me to his side and plopped his arm over my shoulder.

  He proceeded to lean on me—an uncomfortable stance to be sure, with my black heels making me almost as tall as him. Plus, I didn’t know this man well enough to become his leaning post as he drank a few cocktails.

  “Did you enjoy my lecture?” he asked with a slight slur. I found the smell of alcohol mixed with day-old fish staggering.

  “This is not going to work out.” Once again, I said this out loud.

  “What was that?” The tipsy man’s eyes grew large.

  “Uh…you must work out.” I moved out from under his arm and turned him to face the side of the room. “See Dr. Sands, that pretty little lady in the brown shrug over there? She has been watching you most of the night. I think she is fascinated with your lecture and…with you.” He looked over at her, then back at me. He had a cockeyed grin. He must not be much of a drinker.

  “Come on, Dr. Rasmussen…”

  “Call me Ronald.”

  “Come on, Ronald. It’s time to meet your destiny.”

  ****

  “Thanks, sis,” I whispered as I carried my sleeping angel out to the car.

  “How did it go?” Joy asked. I could hear the hope in her voice.

  “You know, it actually went well for Dr. Rasmussen and Dr. Sands. I think there may be wedding bells in their future.”

  “What?” She sounded thoroughly confused.

  I smiled. “Let’s say he wasn’t my type, so I played matchmaker.” I wrapped the seatbelt around Tatum and snapped it. She sighed but remained asleep. “Thank you, Joy. What would I do without you?” I gave her a big hug and hopped into the car. “Since it’s not a Mason Jar Night for us Friday, do you and the boys want to come over for popcorn and a ninja movie?”