The Workaholic Down the Hall

by Katharine Sadler

  “We could put in some easy maintenance plants,” he said. “You'll want something to keep the yard from washing down the side of the mountain. Maybe terraced gardens.”

  The yard was kind of steep back there, but terraced gardens sounded like a lot of work. “I didn't know you liked to garden.”

  “I mostly like designing the gardens, but I don't mind getting my hands dirty.”

  “But you hate being outside,” I said. I knew that because Cody had invited him to go camping once. I'd been in the office when Noah had gotten the call and he'd made it clear he was an indoor kind of guy.

  He looked at me, his brow crinkled in confusion. “I hate sleeping outside, and I'm not a huge fan of hiking, but I like being outside when civilization is close by, especially if the outside is beautiful.”

  “And you like to design gardens.” I'd never known that about him. I mean, he did sometimes spend extra time with the landscape design team working at one of the properties, but I'd figured that was because he was a control freak.

  He nodded. “I took a few landscape design classes in college, when I could fit them in between business classes.”

  “Huh. So, tell me, how would you design this yard?”

  I didn't expect he'd ever really work on the yard and I knew I wouldn't, but I wanted to hear what he saw when he looked at it. I wanted his eyes to keep lighting up the way they did when he talked about it.

  He described what he'd do with the yard, his smile growing as he spoke, his tension lessening. I really didn't understand most of what he was saying, about grades and drainage and the types of plants that would thrive there. After a while, I stopped listening and just watched his easy smile, the excitement in his expression. This wasn't just a passing hobby for him, it was a passion. I wondered why he'd never pursued it, but I didn't ask. I didn't want to say anything to snuff the happiness on his face.

  ***

  “What now?” Noah asked. I was at the kitchen table, reading a book about branding and marketing and jotting notes by hand on a legal pad. It had been a long time since I'd written anything by hand and I liked it. I liked the feel of the pen in my hand, the pressure of putting word to paper, of committing to an idea that might someday become a plan. After our walk and tour of the yard, we'd had lunch and Noah had changed into workout clothes and gone for a run. He was now showered and dressed and bothering me.

  I looked up at him. “What?”

  “What are we going to do now?”

  I bit my lip not to laugh. He looked truly perplexed and uncomfortable, practically bouncing with a need to do something. “When's the last time you did nothing for a day?”

  He glanced at my notepad. “When did you?”

  He had a point. “Okay, so neither of us knows how to relax. You could help me figure out this social media marketing stuff, or we could try doing nothing together.”

  His eyes widened. “I'm not really in the mood to help my mother with anything.” He waved at my books. “I assume that's what this is all for?”

  “Yep. You probably know more about it than I do. I could use your input.”

  I expected him to jump right into that idea. He was always working, always thinking about work, and I was sure he would choose work over trying something new. He frowned. “I should want to do that, but the idea appeals to me less than the idea of trying to do nothing.”

  I was truly shocked. I slid the legal pad into my book to hold my place. In all honesty, I'd rather work. The book about branding was fascinating and giving me all kinds of ideas for Nora's business, but if Noah was going to try something new, so could I. “Okay, then. Let's do nothing. How should we start?”

  He grinned and looked around the kitchen, his gaze snagging on the huge front window. “It's almost six. Why don't we sit on the back porch and watch the sun set?”

  It looked cold out there, and I was cozy and warm in the house.

  He could see me hesitating. “When was the last time you just sat and watched the sun set over the mountains?”

  “Why don't we watch it from inside? The windows are so big it's as good as being outside.”

  “You can stay in here, but I want the full experience. I want to feel the chill in the air and smell the forest and the fallen leaves.”

  I huffed. “Fine. Give me a few minutes to get some warmer clothes on.”

  He helped me out of my chair. I waddled back to my room and bundled up in my warmest clothes. “It's October, not January,” he said, when I made it back to the kitchen. He was wearing a light coat and jeans.

  “It's a lot colder in the mountains than it is in Atlanta this time of year.”

  He shrugged and smirked while I slid my feet into shoes and pulled on a winter coat, hat, and gloves. I followed him outside and we took seats next to each other in the rocking chairs. There was a cold bite to the air and the wind was whipping. I shivered and stared at the mountains, waiting for something to happen. It didn't take long for me to get bored.

  “So, this book I'm reading—”

  “Shh,” Noah said. “We're doing nothing. Just soak it in.”

  I sniffed and glared at him, but I got some joy from the fact that he was shivering and his cheeks were red. I turned back to the mountains and just sat, listening to the breeze through the trees and smelling the fall scents. Someone was burning leaves somewhere and the acrid scent made me feel a bit warmer. The sun hit the top of the mountains and began to lower behind them. I couldn't look directly at it, of course, but it was pretty, sinking in a pink sky.

  “Oh, fuck it,” Noah said. “I'm freezing.”

  I expected him to get up and head back inside. Instead, he picked me up and set me on his lap like I was a china doll and not a super-sized pregnant woman. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against him. “That's better,” he said.

  “That can't be comfortable. I weigh a ton.”

  “It's perfect.” His voice was soft, awe struck.

  I watched the sunset in silence, snuggled against him, breathing in his scent along with the outdoor smells, and I pretended just for a moment that this was real, that he was mine, and that he'd never leave me. Never leave us.

  But the moment did end, the sun sank, and we went back inside. I felt lighter, peaceful, and I didn't feel the need to say anything. I sat back at the kitchen table and enjoyed the moment as Noah rattled around and put together some sort of dinner.

  “How do you feel about baked ziti?” he asked.

  “That sounds great.” Really, anything I didn't have to cook sounded wonderful. “Do you need help?” Of course, I was just being polite, and was relieved when he assured me he didn't need help.

  Once the food was in the oven, he sat next to me. “That felt like a lot of work for a day of doing nothing.”

  “We have to eat,” I said. “If it were left up to me, we'd have spaghetti with sauce from a jar.”

  He grimaced. “That would have been a heck of a lot easier. Too bad we can't get take-out here like we can in Atlanta.”

  There were take-out menus in a drawer near the fridge, but he was right, it wasn't the same. Catalpa Creek didn't offer the array of choices and the ease we had for take-out in Atlanta. “I'm not even sure all the restaurants will deliver this far out of town.”

  He raised his brows. “How far out of town are we?”

  “About fifteen miles.”

  “Why'd you choose to submit yourself to my mother's crazy?” he asked. “Didn't your family want you close to them?”

  I sighed. “Mimi is really my only family. My parents died when I was a kid.” I saw the pity in his eyes and hurried to tell him the rest. “I was lucky. I have a huge family, so I never had to go into the foster care system.”

  “But you don't keep in touch with any of them?”

  I shrugged, wishing for a subject change, an escape, but there was nothing and nowhere to go. I didn't talk about my family, not ever, not to anyone. I liked to pretend it was in the past, that I was a differen
t person now, that I didn't need them and never had. “I keep in touch. I send Christmas cards. Mimi is the only one I've been really close to. The rest of my family…There are a lot of them, but none of them have much money. I was another mouth to feed, another kid to make Christmas tighter. I never stayed with one relative too long, before another found some room for me. Luckily, they're a pretty tight knit bunch, all living in Atlanta or close by, so I didn't have to change schools too often.”

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't know.”

  I shrugged. “It's nothing to be sorry about. I know how lucky I was, how much worse it could have been. I'm grateful to every one of them for taking me in and taking care of me, I never went without anything I needed. I just…Well, I want more for our daughter. I adore Nora and May, Cody and Carrie. When Nora offered me the job, offered to help with the baby, I couldn't turn her down. And I love it here. I love your mother, even if she does drive me crazy most of the time and probably should be moved into a home for kidnapping us.”

  Noah laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. Luckily, the timer on the oven dinged. He leapt up and pulled out the ziti. He dished it onto plates for each of us.

  The ziti didn't look quite like anything I'd eaten before, but it smelled good and was steaming warm. I stuck my fork in and lifted it to my mouth, blowing on it to cool it. I shoved it in, starving, and bit down on something hard and sharp. I was so stunned, I spit it out. “Ouch.”

  Noah was making a face and crunching away. “It's kind of crunchy, isn't it?”

  Using my fork, I sifted through the casserole on my plate. “Um, Noah, did you cook the noodles?”

  He finally gave up and spit his food onto his plate. “They cooked in the oven.”

  I laughed until my sides hurt and the confused, slightly injured look on Noah's face just made me laugh harder. It felt so good to laugh, I may have laughed a little louder and longer than strictly necessary. “You have to cook the noodles before you put them in the oven.” Even I knew that, and I never cooked unless I had to.

  “Why would I do that? Don't they get cooked in the oven?”

  “Please tell me you at least cooked the meat first?”

  He blanched. “I swear the recipe didn't say I had to cook anything first.”

  Noah was meticulous about following instructions, so clearly he was off his game or he'd followed a faulty recipe. “Where did you find this recipe?”

  He stood and grabbed the empty pasta box off the counter and handed it to me. It really did say to mix meat, cheese, sauce, and noodles in a casserole dish and bake for twenty-five minutes. “Clearly, this recipe was meant more as a suggestion to someone who's made baked ziti before.”

  “So, it's inedible?”

  “Raw meat and uncooked noodles probably aren't the recommended diet for a pregnant woman.”

  “Right.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I can probably throw together something—”

  “Noah, I know you can't cook. I've lived with you, remember? The freezer's full of microwave dinners.”

  “Why didn't you tell me that before I made this mess?”

  “You promised me home-made baked ziti. I haven't seen you in eight months. I figured you'd picked up a new skill.”

  His smile was weak. We still had so much to talk about. He bent and dug through the freezer. “You want pasta or…A meat dish.”

  “Pasta.”

  He pulled out two boxes and put them on the counter. He took his time reading the directions, opened the boxes, punctured the plastic and shoved the first one in the microwave.

  “I shouldn't have just quit my job, quit you the way I did,” I said, while the microwave hummed. “I'm sorry.”

  “Why did you?” He turned to face me, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I know it was a mistake for us to sleep together, but why couldn't we just move past it?”

  Shit. I wasn't ready to lay down so much truth, but if we were going to be friends again, if we were going to raise this baby together, I couldn't fake it with him. “I couldn't just move past it, because I didn't think it was a mistake. I thought it was the start of something. When you didn't remember…I just couldn't pretend as well as you could, I guess.”

  He stared at me, shock clear in every line of his expression. I'd known he'd never felt for me what I'd felt for him, but this confirmed it and the last bit of hope I'd been holding onto deflated and crashed into the remains of my broken heart. “Shit, Aubrey. I'm sorry. I—”

  “I know,” I said. “To you it was just a night of too much booze and ending up in bed with the wrong woman. It's nothing you have to apologize for. It's not like we planned it or had a chance to set boundaries. It just happened.” Like two cars crashing into one another, there was no stopping once he'd started kissing me, even when I knew damn well it was just physical to him. “I read more into it than I should have and that's on me. I shouldn't have walked away like I did.”

  “I shouldn't have pretended it never happened,” he said. “If we'd talked about it…”

  “It is what it is, Noah. There's no room in either of our lives for regrets. We just have to move forward.”

  I stood and cleared the table, throwing away the inedible casserole. He placed the microwaved dishes on the table with forks. “What's next on our do-nothing day agenda?” I asked as he sat.

  Noah shrugged, his gaze distant. “Monopoly?”

  ***

  I rubbed my eyes and stared at the filling coffee pot, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting around me. I'd tell Noah I'd made it for him, but I really just wanted to breathe it in and hope to gain some more energy by osmosis. I'd slept terribly, unable to get comfortable, and I missed coffee with a longing most people probably reserved for lost loved ones. I took two steps back from the pot and forced myself into a seat at the kitchen table. I'd have to settle for the bowl of cereal I'd fixed myself.

  Noah sauntered in, looking good enough to eat in a faded t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. His hair was mussed from sleep, sheet creases still on his face. He fixed himself a cup of coffee, took a sip, and turned. His eyes popped wide when he saw me. “I didn't know you were in here.”

  I didn't think he needed a response, so I just shoveled in another bite of cereal.

  “What's the plan for the day?” he asked. “I'm up for anything, except Monopoly. I'd like to pretend I have some dignity left.”

  “Dignity's all you have left. I have all your hotels, properties, and cash.”

  He winced. “It was an off night.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  The doorbell interrupted my journey from the table to the sink with my empty bowl. I walked to the front door, Noah close on my heels. Oscar stood on the porch, his smile not dimming in the least when he saw Noah behind me. “Hi, Aubrey,” he said. He waved to Noah. “Hey, I'm Oscar.” He turned his attention back to me. “Are you still up for a day of touring Catalpa Creek?”

  “Oh, Oscar, I completely forgot. Noah um, showed up unexpectedly, but…”

  “It's okay,” Noah said, though his smile was tight. “You should go. Get out of the house for a while.”

  “You're welcome to come, too,” Oscar said. “The more the merrier.”

  “I wouldn't want to intrude. You two go and have a good time.”

  Noah didn't sound like he was okay, he sounded angry. Which made zero sense. I spun and glared at him. What the hell was wrong with him? He met my glare with one of his own and I decided I didn't care what his problem was. If he didn't want to join us, if he wanted to be rude to my friend, that was his problem. I was going to go out and have a good time. He could stay home and pout by himself.

  I raised my brows to give him one more chance to explain himself, but he crossed his arms over his chest and his mask slid into place. I turned back to Oscar and smiled. “Just give me a minute to get dressed. Why don't you come on in to wait?”

  Oscar hesitated for only a moment before he stepped into the en
tryway. I left him alone with Noah and hurried back to my room, dressed, and stopped in the kitchen to grab my shoes and coat from where I'd left them by the back door. I hurried back to the front door. I didn't know what Noah's problem was, but Oscar shouldn't have to deal with his bad mood.

  Oscar was still in the entryway, frowning and running a hand through his hair. “It shouldn't be a problem for me to drop you by the bed and breakfast. Good luck getting the keys to your truck, though. It doesn't seem like Nora is willing to bend.”

  “I'll convince her,” Noah said, the urgency in his voice clear. “I need to get back to Atlanta today.” I'd thought maybe he was enjoying spending time with me, but clearly he couldn't wait to get back to his home and his work. I shook off my disappointment. I wasn't being fair. Of course he'd want to get back to Atlanta.

  Oscar glanced at me, clearly unsure. “We have time to drop him by Nora's place, right?”

  “Sure,” I said, with forced cheerfulness. “It'll just take a couple minutes.”

  Oscar looked back and forth between us like he was sure he was missing something, but he didn't argue or ask. I kept my smile plastered on and followed him out the door.

  Oscar dropped Noah off at the bed and breakfast. Noah had worked out a plan to convince his mother to let him go home. I wished him well, and he hurried out of the car and away from me like he was fleeing a house fire.

  “What was that all about?” Oscar asked.

  “He's the father of my baby. And a good friend. Nora, his mom, sort of kidnapped him, too, as…A matchmaking scheme of sorts, but he's clearly ready to leave.”

  “Doesn't seem to like me too much.”

  “Sorry about that. I don't know what his problem is.”

  Oscar snorted. “Yeah, I can't imagine why he'd have a problem with another man showing up to take his baby momma out for the day.”

  I sighed. “Trust me, that wasn't his problem. And baby momma? Does anyone actually say that anymore?”

  He laughed. “If they don't, they should. Where do you want to go first?”

  He had just turned down Main Street, which was lit by the bright sunny morning and full of students and tourists. “Why don't you just park and we can walk the street and check out the shops. Maybe I can find some more places that would offer discounts to guests? Unless you'd rather see the campus or the science museum or something more touristy?”