Hope Falls

by Addison Moore

  “What’s this?” I swallow down a dull laugh, his face still dangerously close to mine. “An apology? You’re only four years too late, buddy—that is, if you mean it.” Not that I’m accepting, but I’d rather keep him in suspense on the subject so I don’t utter another word.

  Nolan winces as he falls to his elbows, his breath softly sweeping over my cheek. His body warms mine as the snow against my back threatens to solidify me to a painful Popsicle-inspired death.

  “I’m so sorry, Misty.” His expression crumbles as if he were speared with great pain. “I would do anything to take us back to that summer and make everything right again.”

  “Stop!” I shout without warning, and he blinks back. “Just stop.” It comes out weaker as I pant unstoppably. The last thing I want is to forgive and forget. That’s not how lifelong grudges work, and that’s exactly what I promised myself all those years ago I would nurse—a nice lifelong hatred for this ridiculously good-looking hulk of a man currently begging for forgiveness. Okay, so he’s not quite begging, and that, right there, might be the deciding factor. If he crawled through Main Street naked in the snow, I might consider it, but only long enough to humiliate him with the idea of false hope.

  “Do you forgive me?” Those deep sea green eyes search my features for a shred of optimism. And there you have it. Nolan wants his conscience set free, and only I have the power to do that. As much as I want to offer a smug smile, I can’t seem to get my lips to stray in that direction.

  “I don’t want to forgive you.” My heart thumps wild as a stampede of emotions threatens to crash through my chest. “I want to do this.” My hands swoop to where they’ve desperately wanted to be all along as I pull him down by the back of the neck and crash those snow soft lips to mine. Nolan gives a devilish groan as he lingers in that sweet kiss. A heated moment bounces by before my mouth opens and I let him in, back into my mouth where he roamed freely last night, back into my life where I swore he would never, ever haunt my doorways again. Nolan pulls my lower lip out with his and moans as if enjoying his favorite dessert. He covers my mouth, and his tongue lashes out with a hunger that only ripe lust can bring. Nolan’s kisses taste far sweeter than I remember. These are fevered kisses, unholy kisses, I’m-going-to-devour-you kisses, but mostly, these are tender kisses that only heartfelt emotions can sponsor.

  I may have walked away from Nolan all those years ago, but judging by the fact I can’t seem to drink this man down fast enough, the fact I can never satiate myself of this infernal desire to have him, lets me know that I’m still as invested as I ever was. Whether I like it or not, I’m still all-in.

  Nolan is a god. A devil. A white knight who ironically sponsored the darkest hour of my soul. He was my friend, then my lover, and quickly thereafter, my sworn enemy. But today, he is my protector—my comrade in snowball wielding arms if only for a moment.

  Today, this hour, this moment—Nolan Knight is slowly steadily unlocking the rusted chamber of my heart.

  It shouldn’t surprise me.

  He has always held the key.

  Nolan and I eventually make our way to Mattie May and enjoy that hot cocoa right along with a grilled cheese and the soup of the day. We don’t talk about what happened after that sled careened out of the natural world and into some alternate universe where I latched my tongue onto his. Instead, we get right back to ribbing one another with salted barbs—okay, that was me—and lovelorn glances—mostly him. But all afternoon I wonder what in the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

  Nolan

  Misty Baker has my heart. She’s always had it. I gave it to her that first day all those summers ago when I laid eyes on her with that cute ponytail wagging, those so-tight-you-can-tell-if-the-quarter-is-heads-or-tails jeans, those ruby-stained lips. But it was that sweet smile and even sweeter soul that really got me. I knew then and there I did the right thing by venturing out of Hollow Brook, as far away from North Carolina as possible, to find that jewel the universe had reserved just for me. And then, as sure as hell, I screwed that up as quickly as possible. But that was years ago, and this is now. I may have lost Misty once, but I will move heaven and earth to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

  Once we got back yesterday, Mattie was exhausted and hit the sack early. I thought maybe Misty and I could head into town and hit dinner, but she ducked into her room before I could ask and never came out. For today’s adventure, Mattie May has chosen the winter festival over on the east end of town. She’s promised a day filled with arts and crafts, a midway with games and prizes, and perhaps the world’s best chili. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sold until chili. Arts and crafts are good and fun for about fifteen minutes before some male-centric timer in me goes off and I start sniffing for the exit.

  Misty and Mattie May pile into my truck with Mattie riding shotgun and me stealing glances at Misty from the rearview mirror all the way there. Damn, that girl looks like an angel. I’m just thanking my lucky stars I happened to look at my email that day. Over the years, Mattie May has become the forward queen, sending me every feel-good email that circulates on a granny loop for as long as I can remember. After the first few dozen, I stopped opening them. I feel like crap over that fact, but it’s true. But then, a thought came to me, and I responded to one. We started to chat, and the idea of a bucket list sprang to life—in truth, all I could think of was Misty. Of course, I wanted to help Mattie May, but I thought Mattie May could help me out, too. I glance back at Misty, and our eyes lock for a moment. I’m sorry, I want to say. But I did say it. She just so happened not to forgive me.

  I’m not sure how long Mattie May can hold on to our little secret, but I’m guessing that Misty wouldn’t be too impressed that I was keeping something from her once again. It was the fact I kept something from her the last time that unraveled us to begin with.

  “Mattie?” Misty leans in, and her sweet floral perfume wraps around me like a kiss all its own. “What exactly is it that you’re looking to cross off your list today?”

  Misty has her hair in a ponytail just like that first day, and I can’t help but feel a burst of nostalgia. Maybe it’s a sign? I shake the thought away. It’s pathetic how desperate I’ve become and how low I’m willing to go to get what I want—which, of course, is Misty. But I’m okay with going low if I can somehow land the two of us in that magical place we were at just before the nightmare that led to our fall.

  “A giant bear.” Mattie gives a thumbs-up for no apparent reason.

  “A giant what?” I’m sure I heard bear. There are a lot of things I’m willing to do for Mattie May, but chasing down a five-hundred pound hairy beast who has both the potential and the desire to chew my balls off doesn’t appeal to me.

  “A bear!” she howls at me as if I were the village idiot. “You know, a stuffed animal. I have never won a stuffed animal at the fair.”

  “A stuffed animal.” A dull laugh huffs from me as we get out of the truck and head toward the community center. A giant canvas sign wags in the wind reading Winter Wonderland One Week Only!

  We step inside, ladies first, and if I’m honest, I’ll fess up to the fact my eyes sank straight to the curve of Misty’s ultra-tight jeans. As soon as she walked down those stairs this morning, all I wanted to do was grab ahold of her and haul her off to my room. Misty has a fresh scrubbed look about her, but those velvet eyes, those lips—Misty Baker is hot as hell, and there isn’t a man on this planet who would contest it.

  Inside the community center’s cavernous space sit about thirty different tents, each with red and white striped canopies. Dozens of families mill around—a young mother laughs up a storm while shouting at her children, a father walks like a zombie with a stunned look on his face, wondering out loud why the heck they just shelled out sixty dollars in cold hard cash to win the oversized stuffed purple octopus in his hands. But mostly, the vicinity is populated with disenfranchised teenagers milling around, the guys checking out the girls and vice versa.

  “Why aren’t
any of these kids in school?” Misty asks the question for me.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” I butt my shoulder into hers playfully, and she takes a full step away.

  Mattie waves off the crowd as if they were inconsequential. “It’s something new the school district is doing up here. It’s called Ski Week. The kids get to lounge around all week and enjoy the slopes. If that’s not a waste of time and energy, I don’t know what is. They should be in a classroom, nose in a book, if you ask me. But I’m not on the school board anymore. My PTA days are long gone.” She shakes a fist at a couple of boys who run by and nearly clip her before glancing back at Misty and me. “I suppose this is your future—little ones running around underfoot, lots of school activities, winter fairs, ski weeks, and whatever other fancy term they’ll think of next for skipping school.”

  Misty shakes her head with a disparaging look at the masses. “In my day, we didn’t have any such thing as Ski Week either. In fact, we certainly didn’t have cell phones in elementary school.”

  “In your day?” I lift a brow her way. I can’t help it. Misty is a hair younger than me, and seeing that we’re both in our mid to late twenties, I can’t help but want to tease her. “I remember when cell phones were just for talking, and you had to flip them open in order to do that. None of that newfangled Internet stuff was attached.” I give a hard wink.

  Misty makes a face, assuring me I’ve brought her to the brink of vomiting. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to bond over our quasi-technology based childhoods.”

  Mattie May tosses up a hand. “Well, isn’t that a good thing? The two of you should bond! I worked really hard to—” she catches herself and looks to me a moment.

  Crap. Don’t blow it, Mattie. Do not blow it.

  She shudders. “Really hard to bring you both here to win me something big! Now let’s move it. The first person to help me win that bear gets to pick where we eat dinner! I don’t know about you, but I’m about to work up an appetite. Don’t just stand around like a couple of stiffs. Relax! It’s time to unwind and have a little fun.” She shuffles off down the makeshift midway as Misty and I watch for a second.

  Misty takes a breath. “You know I really admire her.”

  “She’s the best,” I offer and mean every word. “I can only hope I’m as spry and ornery at her age.”

  “Well, you’ve got the ornery part down pat. I’d say you’re halfway there.” Her lips stretch into a satisfied smile. “Besides, I happen to be plenty spry, and I plan on helping Mattie win that stuffed bear so I can get a nice salmon dinner at the Cove.”

  “The Cove?” I shake my head just to vex her. In truth, I love the Cove. It’s one of the only sit-down restaurants that is actually worth trading my flannel in for a suit. The food is worth the wardrobe change, so I don’t mind one delicious bit. But more than that, it’s where Misty and I shared many meals. “Nah,” I tease. “It’s all about Sue Ann’s Café. A three-egg omelet, hash browns, a short stack that’s dripping with syrup—breakfast. It’s what’s for dinner.” I strut right past her and thread my way through the crowd as I find Mattie May at a booth decked out with oversized neon-colored bears strapped near the top of the tent like helpless toddlers begging for a kind stranger to help them down.

  “That’s the one!” Mattie looks appraisingly at the rainbow of furry stuffed creatures. “I’m thinking I should probably settle for pink because it’ll go with the mauve walls in my bedroom, but the bright blue baby bear would look mighty nice on my sofa next to the chintz pillas’.” A placid smile comes and goes as her country accent comes in clear.

  The object of this game is to land a red ring over a bottle—any ring over any bottle makes you the owner of one of those gargantuan beasts. The whole racket looks irritatingly easy. It’s no wonder I’ve seen six of these oversized monsters bopping up and down the midway already. They’ve made the damn game way too effortless.

  “Don’t take too long in deciding”—I shake my head at Mattie—“because I’ll be sending one your way in just a minute.” I pay the teenager in charge a dollar for six tiny rings—five more than I’ll be needing. The bottles themselves are situated side by side, and there are easily a thousand of them.

  With the flick of the wrist, I toss a ring over at the bevy of empty soda bottles with their slender necks, fully expecting to land a touchdown, but the ring kisses the rim of a bottle before disappearing to the ground.

  Misty struts up next to me. “Not as simple as it looks, huh?” The sarcasm drips from her, and it only encourages me to get it right the second time.

  “Why don’t you pick one out, too, sweetheart?” I lob the sarcasm right back at her. “In fact, pick out a couple of ’em. One for the living room and one to keep you company on those cold lonely nights.”

  Misty gasps, and swear to God, I just heard Mattie May do the same thing from behind. Okay, I’ll admit I may have just stepped in dog shit without meaning to. I’m pretty good at that, especially around Misty. In fact, I’m surprised she didn’t bolt the second she laid eyes on me, gagging from the stench of the past. But I do love teasing her. Misty knows I’d never let her have a single lonely night if she’d let me.

  Misty shakes her head, her arms crossed over that ample chest. For a rather petite girl, Misty has a rack for days. Just the thought of her beautiful tits makes my balls wrench with regret. A woman with that body, that face, that beautiful mind should never have been treated the way I once treated her—or, apparently, the way I’m treating her now.

  She leans in with her eyes narrowed in on mine. “Oh, it’s on, Nolan Knight. You had better watch your back, because when you least expect it, an overstuffed bear that I won with my own two murderous hands is going to storm into your room and eat you.”

  I swallow hard without meaning to while Mattie May and Misty whip out their wallets and stock up on ammunition. And thus, yet another war brews between us as the three of us hurl little plastic rings into the glass Bermuda Triangle, only to have them sucked into the money-eating vortex and fall to the floor in a cacophony of soft clinking noises.

  “Shit,” I whisper as I come to my final ring—ring fifty to be exact.

  “Oh, hush!” Mattie May threads her arm through Misty’s then mine before leading us to the money-sucking venue next door. “We just need to warm up, that’s all.”

  Three hundred dollars and a couple of plastic grasshoppers on a stick, a purple inflatable monkey, and a handful of plastic trinkets later, Misty and I take turns eyeing the exit. As much as I hate to admit it, the only thing that we seem to be a united front on is ditching this glorified daycare center.

  “Well, kids…” Mattie May leans hard against my arm. I’m pretty sure if I move my elbow over just one inch, she’ll fall to the floor. She’s that exhausted. “I think we should—”

  “Go?” I offer.

  Misty swoops in on the other side of Mattie and begins to steer her toward the door. “We gave it our best shot, and that’s what counts. If that doesn’t call for dinner at the Cove, then I don’t know what does. Last one out of the community center has to pick up the tab.” She sneers over at me. “And since it’s ladies first, that will be you, Nolan.”

  “What?” Mattie May digs in her orthopedic heels. “Heaven’s no. We can’t quit now. Not with all that training fresh under our belts. You can follow me or not, but I’m getting me a bear. Now, if you’ll excuse me—I’ve got a bucket list to tend to.”

  She stalks off as Misty and I watch in amazement.

  “I hope I have that energy when I’m her age.” Misty drags her feet as she follows our spirited friend.

  “I hope I have you,” I can’t help but whisper as I follow behind.

  Once again, the three of us purchase an ungodly amount of cursed little red rings. For a moment, I envision a man in a very cheesy suit laughing his ass off as he counts the government-issued lettuce we’ve given him to nibble on—hell, retire off of. We proceed to toss our
rings and our money to the wind as, one by one, each of our tiny flying discs lands unceremoniously onto the floor. Soon Mattie is all done with her stash, while Misty and I are down to our very last rays of cheap furry hope.

  “On three!” I shout. “One, two—” Misty and I toss our final rings into the air in concert, and the world seems to sink into slow motion as they rotate and spin—and then, in a turn of miraculous events, the two rings kiss over the glass bottles before breaking their separate ways and landing each on a bottle neck of their own.

  “Holy shit,” barks the kid manning the booth. “I mean”—he cups his hand over his mouth and shouts into the crowd—“winner, winner, winner!” He scratches the back of his neck while shaking his head. “Dude, did you freaking see that?” He points to the rings, just as stunned as we are. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like… it’s like…” He tosses up his hands at a loss for words.

  Mattie clears her throat. “It’s like destiny stepped in.” Her jaw drops at the sight. “Good golly, I think on our way home the two of you should buy some lottery tickets. In fact, if I had that kind of luck with someone, I’d never let them go.”

  Misty and I exchange apprehensive glances before I offer her a mild high five and she returns the unenthusiastic favor. We pick out the blue and pink bears respectively and tuck them into the back seat, ensconcing Misty between them like a couple of furry bookends.

  “Where to?” I ask, exhausted but starving from our wallet draining afternoon. Since both Misty and I won, I’ve decided to be a gentleman and let Misty have her way—in a roundabout manner.

  “Oh, hon”—Mattie May’s voice is weaker than water as she fans herself with her fingers—“I’m afraid I can’t take much more excitement today. I’m so tuckered out. I want nothing more than to crawl into bed. I’m afraid I’ll have to skip dinner.”