Nora put the empty peanut butter container down and leaned against his chest. “She helped, and just because she was aware of many things, that doesn’t mean she knew everything. Knowledge couldn’t inoculate her against everything.”
His chest hurt. A million ideas had been passed to him on how best to memorialize Ally in the community. Some had suggested fundraisers while others tossed out the idea of an event like a gala or a fun run. Great ideas, but they weren’t Ally.
Jake had decided the best way to honor his cousin was to raise Charlotte as best he could. In a way that Ally would have most wanted. He could do more good by sending another Ally into the world than he could by raising a couple of thousand dollars.
Still it hurt. She helped everyone else and did everything right, except when she didn’t, then Ally didn’t get a second chance.
Jake rested his chin on top of Nora’s head. “She had regrets. I don’t know if she told that to anyone else.”
Nora shook her head. “No.”
“She wouldn’t have burdened anyone with that.” He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s who she was. Strong. A caretaker until she died.”
“I know,” Nora whispered.
“She knew there was something wrong. But she ignored it, sticking her head in the sand until she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t sick.”
Nora cursed quietly.
“What does that leave us with? That she was stubborn, and it destroyed more than she saved?” She was a nurse, for crying out loud! Even if her cancer and symptoms were rare in her demographic, it still struck. Jake had fought many a night for sleep, wondering why she’d ignored symptoms of cancer that she could easily have diagnosed in women twice her age. But she was too young, too giving, to be an outlier.
Nora shook her head. “Don’t be angry at her. Please.”
Maybe that was this feeling in his chest. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Find a purpose in it, Jake. Or remember what she’s given us. Love. Laughter. Charlotte.”
His eyes burned. “True.”
“Maybe there’s more than even that. A greater gift that she imparted so her death isn’t senseless.”
“Like what?” His voice cracked.
“A lesson. Not to ignore the signs life gives us. That it doesn’t matter when or how or why. There is no explaining a timeline or its cause.” Nora wiped at her face. “You just accept it now or deal with that later.”
Jake gathered Nora in his arms, comforted by her warm hug and the wisdom in her words. He realized that what Nora had said didn’t apply only to health. Her words should be applied to life as well.
Jake wasn’t just preparing Charlotte to be a little Ally, ready to take on the world. He couldn’t explain the intensity or quickness of it, but as he breathed in the familiar scent of her perfume, Jake knew he was holding his future.
He couldn’t see the path. They hadn’t even made it through dessert of their nondate dinner. But why deny what was there?
Jake gave Nora a squeeze. “Our fake ice cream is going to melt.”
She sniffled, laughing. “It’s not fake, silly.”
“Whatever it is, it tastes good.”
As they stepped apart, Charlotte and Graham wandered into the kitchen, their eyes drawn to the ingredients on the counter. Both went from calm to excited in two steps.
“Now, can we help?” Graham asked. “Please?”
Charlotte was already tugging a chair over. “We can help.”
Amused, he let Nora hop back to it as the kids took over the cartons and spatulas. They made short work of dumping the now-soupy frozen dessert into the blender.
“Take it easy.” Nora motioned with her hands to slow the rambunctious crew.
Jake stepped closer. They hadn’t even had their milkshakes yet, and just the sight of the ingredients made Charlotte and Graham hyper.
“Graham, hang on,” Nora ordered as her son headed toward the wall with the plug.
Nora held the blender’s lid as she snaked Graham off the counter.
Charlotte’s pointer finger rose, and the room turned to slow motion as Jake reached for her. “Charlotte, wait—”
Too late.
The blender’s whirl screamed a second before the cold splatter sprayed the room. Liquefied frozen chocolate slung across Jake’s face, into his hair and covering his eyes.
Both kids screamed and squealed. Nora yelped and both he and she raced to turn off the blender.
Finally, the motor silenced. The whirling noise stopped. There was nothing but the quiet, heavy drip, drip, drip of coconut-and-almond-milk melted mess.
Jake swiped his face and took in Nora, dripping in chocolate milkshake ingredients. Ice cream ran from her hair. Small chunks of peanut butter clung to her shirt. Every time Jake blinked, chocolate slid onto his eyelashes.
No one made a sound as he wiped his face off again.
“Oops,” Graham said quietly.
“We’re sorry,” Charlotte tacked on.
There was likely a section in every parenting resource that he’d ever read that dealt with this very situation. Nora could probably write it.
A glob of chocolate fell from the ceiling, splattering onto the floor. His eyes roamed the chocolate disaster. It was bad—but worse, or funnier, both kids stood like milkshake-covered statues.
Soupy, liquefied chocolate dripped into the corners of his mouth. He fought the urge to lick his lips. A glob of peanut butter fell from Nora and plopped onto the wet floor with a thwunk.
His chest rumbled. He snorted, chocolate going up his nose as a spoonful of peanut butter thumped from a cabinet, landing between him and Nora.
Then she slapped her sticky hands over her chocolate-covered mouth, unable to hide the hilarity.
“Eww, Graham licked me,” Charlotte cried out.
That was it. Jake couldn’t stop laughing. Nora fell apart, pressing her dripping head to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, making their milkshake splattered clothes stick together.
When they stopped from laughing along enough he could catch his breath, he took her sticky hand in his. “We’re never going to mention the casserole-oven fire again, are we, babe.” He wiped chocolate with his thumb from above her eyebrow. “Can I use that word right now?”
“You can.” She laughed. “And we’ll never talk of oven fires again.”
Then it took everything he had not to kiss her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The master bedroom would have anything that Nora needed—including a shower—and Jake couldn’t shake the laugh from his chest at the sight of her face when the blender exploded with the chocolate shake.
He might not live down the oven, but he’d certainly planned on teasing her about the dessert fiasco. Seemed fair. Cleanup duty had gone far beyond anything he’d anticipated.
“Hey, you.” She quietly knocked on the bedroom door before walking in then rolled her eyes at herself. “Kids are asleep after I promised them large ice cream floats tomorrow.”
“On one condition.”
“Hmm?”
“I make them, and you’re on cleanup duty.”
She laughed. “Absolutely walked into that and will never live that down. Graham I?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He shook his head, trying to hide his laughter. Nora’s shirt and jeans were covered in smeared-dry chocolate ice cream.
“Don’t laugh. You don’t look much better.”
He looked down, smirking. “I think your pants got the worst of it.”
“But I’m pretty sure your hair is held up by dried sugar, not gel.”
He leaned back, walked a couple of steps, and glanced in the mirror. “Maybe I missed a spot.”
“Right here.” She pointed. “And here.” Laughing, she came closer and touched his ear and neck. “And here, and here—”
And he didn’t care. Jake wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in front of him. They were finally alone, and he’d said a lot earlier in the
store, a lot that he didn’t know what to do with, but he did know that he was dying to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Nora nodded. “I am too.”
The chocolate-sweetened air was nice, but their sticky skin wasn’t. Maybe that was a sign he needed to listen to and slow down. Still, here she lingered in his arms. Jake hugged her close, and Nora sighed. He rested his chin on top of her head, hating himself for not pulling away—but also for eventually letting go. “Do you want to take a shower?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
He pulled away and walked to the linen closet and pulled out folded laundry. “Here’s a towel and wash cloth. There’s more in here if you want.”
“Well, I—”
“Just make yourself comfortable.” He closed the closet door and gestured toward the bathroom.
“I don’t have clean clothes,” she pointed out. “So, I think I’ll just head home like this.”
His eyebrow arched. “That sounds like the opposite of making yourself comfortable.” He cleared his throat. “I have clothes you can change into. Second to the top drawer. T-shirts and pants. You might have to roll the waist.”
She bit her lip as color pinked on her cheeks.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She shifted, and her expression changed. “I ruined tonight, didn’t I?” she asked. “I don’t know how you’re used to things, but this probably isn’t how you pictured anything.”
She had no idea. This was better than he could’ve imagined. They felt perfect. Like family that had fun and laughed. He needed her there. He wanted the kids too. This was how he’d pictured a dream-come-true life, as messy, chaotic, and filled with laughter. And, he’d had no idea how perfectly the night went until this moment with her standing in front of him, getting ready to shower. “You didn’t ruin a thing. Quite the opposite actually.”
She glanced away as though she couldn’t meet his intense gaze but eventually came back when he didn’t say another word. “Jake, I’m trying to read your mind.”
He laughed. “How’s that going?”
“My superpowers have let me down.”
He took her hand, having no idea how to continue on with the night when he wasn’t sure how they could collide in such a deep way. “Nights like tonight make me believe that even the darkest hurt and the hardest challenges happen for a reason.”
Nora’s lips parted but she didn’t say she understood. Maybe she didn’t. He couldn’t blame her. Instead, he rested his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little spin. “Go shower.”
She glanced over her shoulder like she needed to respond.
With a slight shake of his head, he silently promised she didn’t have to say a thing. The conversation would be too heavy, and he wasn’t sure what more there was to add when all he could think was that life sure came fast.
###
Tears pricked Nora’s eyes on the way to the shower. Jake radiated pain and loss, and she had missed the hurt that lingered over Ally. How had she been so oblivious?
Well, easy. Jake had been hyper-focused on Charlotte and Graham. She’d been just as focused on helping him learn to parent. But, the pain was still there, and Jake acted as though he might find respite, or even purpose, because of her.
The idea that she could help salve the void left by Ally’s death made her heart clutch. He was a lethal combination of heart and resilience. Everything about Jake made her heart soar.
She ran the shower and quickly washed off the remaining chocolate from her skin and shampooed her hair. The soap smelled like him, and the steamy air swirled with a delicious need to be near him again. She was finished and slapped the water off after taking perhaps the shortest shower of her life, then rushed to dry off.
Nora didn’t know what she would say to him to convey she knew how he felt, or how they could be the other’s needed support. She wrapped an oversized spa towel around her and stepped out of the bathroom to find clean clothes. “Jake?”
She wandered toward his bedroom. The light shone from the cracked door, and Nora opened it and froze, unable to turn away from him. Jake stood, seeming equally as stuck in place. His freshly showered and towel-dried hair stuck up, and he wore only sweatpants. In between, his damp chest was bare. Muscular and bare.
“Oh!” She snapped out of shock and spun away. Her cheeks had never been so hot, and a full-body blush raced from her hair to her toes. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t be,” he called as she rushed out the door.
She gripped the towel around her chest, racing down the hall, no idea of her final destination.
His footfalls came quickly, and his hand clamped on her bare shoulder. He wore a robe over his sweatpants now. “Nora, wait.”
She stopped like she’d turned into a brick wall, unable to turn to face him.
“I thought I’d be out of there before you finished.” His fingers squeezed his shoulder. “You were fast.”
“I rushed.” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to die from mortification.
His easy chuckle rolled. “I’d say.”
She still couldn’t turn around, and he didn’t let go. What was she supposed to do? “And, I should’ve knocked.”
“Nora?” he said as though he disagreed.
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Are you okay?”
“Very.”
“Very,” he repeated with a small laugh. “Can you turn around?”
“I’m in a towel.”
"Here's Ally's robe. It was hanging up in the main bathroom."
He held the robe open for her from behind. She slid her arms into it still wearing the towel, tied the belt, and then dropped the towel to step out of it. Only then could she turn and face him.
He laughed again and took her by the elbow. Then, he directed her to move as they changed places in the hallway. Her heartbeat pounded. Could he tell that she couldn’t catch her breath? She clutched her robe, now facing toward his bedroom with the clothes she had first sought.
But, he still hadn’t released her elbow. “You should know something.”
“What’s that?” she whispered.
Jake’s grip relaxed but he didn’t let go when he stepped closer and lowered his mouth near the back of her ear. “I like figuring this out with you.”
The vein in her forehead pulsed. “Figuring what out?”
“Figuring out how to have time with them but finding time that’s just ours. Only you and me.”
She pinched her eyes closed again and didn’t want to learn this was just a dream. If there was anything she hoped he knew, it was how profoundly his words affected her. She hoped that one day, she’d learn a way to give him that gift too.
He left her to find some of his clothing that wouldn't swallow her whole.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jake walked down the hallway, fighting the urge to imagine more than he should when Nora shuffled to his bedroom to get dressed. He took one deep breath and after another. They had discussed expectations. Their lines were drawn over how physical they’d be. He’d respect their agreements, even if he wanted a relationship.
Jake cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders then settled onto the living room couch. Tonight wasn’t about anything more than being with Nora. Near her. He wanted to hang out, maybe even to hold her hand. More than anything, he wanted to develop what more could be there in the future.
“Hey, all dressed.” Nora waltzed into the living room fully dressed with a blanket wrapped over her shoulders. Her towel-dried hair hung loose, and she seemed much calmer than a few minutes ago.
She also seemed just as beautiful as she had in the towel, now wrapped in layers. Jake tried not to stare. “Are you cold?”
Her face twisted. “No.”
“The blanket would say otherwise.” He nodded to the couch.
Maybe she knew he was struggling with how close to be. A blanket was nothing if not another physical boundary.
But she did
n’t move. Jake swallowed away every ounce of apprehension and settled on a safe plan. They could sit and talk? They could cuddle?
“Come on, sit down.” He tapped the cushion and, finally, Nora settled next to him with her sweet pink smile and wildly drying hair.
Nora smelled like heaven, and he eased his arm around her shoulder but kept from pulling her close. Was he making a move too fast? Holding back too much? Why did this have to be so complicated?
The obvious reason smacked him like a two-by-four to the head. He didn’t want to move fast because he didn’t want to lose her. It was all about respect.
Respect… He was going to hang onto that fact with everything he had, and somehow he could make her feel like he did without so much as a touch.
She yawned and leaned into him. He kissed the top of her head. Her eyes fluttered as though suddenly the night and conversation might be too much. Jake had a fleeting vision of her falling asleep in the crook of his arm. His heartbeat roared. Had he ever made hers jump like that?
His thoughts continued to wander and his chest tightened. He drew in a deep breath. “Don’t fall asleep here. You can have my bed.”
She tensed. “What?”
“You’re falling asleep.”
“I wasn’t. Just… relaxing.”
He smiled. “You’re cute, but you’re lying.”
“I am not!”
“The kids are asleep. You’re halfway there. Take my bed. You’ve probably slept in it more than I ever have, and it’s better than the couch.”
“This is fine. I’m fine.” She smoothed her hand over the sofa as though she agreed about spending the night. “Everything is fine.”
Fine. Ally had warned him about the perils of fine years ago. Fine was a serious warning flag, and Jake had never given it a second thought until this second.
“Are you okay?” he asked, hesitantly.
“Sure.”
Sure? He couldn’t recall if sure was a problematic word, but it sounded just as concerning as fine had. “As long as you’re sure.”
Her eyes blinked more than he’d noticed before—was she upset? “Nora?”
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