by Rachel Kane
“Is that a pie?”
“I had Renee bake it special.”
“You better not let Bonnie hear you say that,” Noah said. “She feels that Renee’s pies lack a little in the flaky crust department.”
Dalton cocked an eyebrow. “Who do you think would win a fight between the two of them?”
“Well, Renee has the height advantage, but my mom’s a scrapper.”
In truth, the two women had gotten along famously. In fact, Bonnie always seemed sad when her visits to Superbia were at an end.
You could stay, said Noah. We have endless room.
She’d shake her head. I’ve got people who need me up there. It’s nice that you’ve got your rich boy, but there’s a lot of people who don’t have anybody looking out for them.
Every time, he made her promise to come back soon.
Tell Renee to add a little white pepper to the fried chicken batter, she’d told him last time.
Mama, I’m not telling Renee anything about food. She’ll knock me out cold.
She’d just stood there smiling at him, not moving further toward the car.
What? he’d asked.
Mama, she said. You called me Mama, instead of Bonnie.
Well that’s who you are, aren’t you? And he’d held her so tightly, before she’d gone.
Thanks to the army of landscape designers who had trooped down to Superbia on Dalton’s orders, the gardens were beautiful again. Glorious in that late-spring heat, the air still heavy with potential, thrumming with the sound of bees. Noah spread out a blanket on the trimmed green grass, and Dalton set out the food.
From this spot, one could look up at the house, or down the hill toward the spring-house, or even further to the forest that separated this land from Mulgrew land, the deep pines that kept a sense of mystery all around them.
The chilled champagne was perfect in this afternoon warmth, and Noah almost thought he’d take a nap, avoiding work for the rest of the day. If only he could. “Can you believe it?” he said. “Well, of course you can. This is what you do for a living, making huge projects happen. But I can still remember when I first saw this house. It seemed like it might fall down on us. I was pretty sure it was haunted. And now… God, Dalton. Look what we’ve done. Look what we’ve accomplished.”
Dalton reached over and took his hand. “It’s amazing. You are amazing.”
“Oh, I’m hardly part of it at all. It’s the Coopers’ house, not mine.”
“When did you start getting shy about taking credit? It’s your vision, as much as theirs. You’ve been directing those architects, those interior designers. Hell, I still remember the battle over the bathroom fixtures. I’ve never seen a plumber cry before.”
“If we’re just going to sit here and praise each other, I’m going to need a refill of the bubbly.”
“Hold off just a second,” said Dalton, taking the champagne flute from him and setting it carefully on the blanket where it would not fall over. “I have something to talk to you about.”
“Uh-oh.”
“What do you mean, uh-oh?”
“You’re going to say something devastating, aren’t you? You have to fly back to Atlanta. You’re going on a trip without me. You’re—”
“Before you spiral into some weird terrible fantasy, let me just say what I need to say, all right?”
Noah had tried to make a joke of it, to cover his nervousness, but there was such a serious look on Dalton’s face, that he couldn’t help worrying. Whatever it was, it was big and important, and Dalton was clearly trying to get his words in the right order, his green eyes half-closed. When they opened, there was a look of certainty on his face that Noah had not yet seen.
Suddenly, he felt like he knew exactly what Dalton was going to say, and every hair on his body stood on end. Oh no. But oh yes.
“Noah…I’ve been practicing this for about a month now, so if I get it wrong, it’s not for lack of trying. These past few months have meant the world to me. You have opened up a chapter in my life I never would have thought possible. God, do you know, I hung out with Colby the other day and actually had fun? I never knew my brother had a sense of humor. Actually, I’m still not positive he does. But anyway, I feel more connected to him than I ever have…and it’s because of you. And Dad. When they said he didn’t need the oxygen anymore, when they said he should start walking on his own, I knew it was because the doctors had done their work and he was finally healing, but part of me also knew it was because of what you’d unlocked inside me. Being able to tell Dad how I felt, being honest about everything… I don’t know how long he has left, even though he’s doing so much better, but I realize now that every moment with him is a gift. And that’s because of you.”
“That’s a lot of credit you’re giving me, for emotional work you did yourself, Dalton.”
“Emotions I never would have let myself feel, if it weren’t for you. Noah, I’m a dealmaker. I like contracts. I like it when things are official, when they’re written down. Everything nice and legal. And I know that sounds dry, and I really practiced this part hard, and it’s coming out all wrong— Oh god, Noah, look, will you marry me? That’s what I’m leading up to here.”
“Whew, for a minute there I thought you were going to tell me about another real estate deal.”
“Be serious!”
“I won’t!” Noah said, launching himself at Dalton. He knocked him over, down onto the grass, laughing and kissing him, the champagne flutes flying, the basket knocked over, nothing mattered, he didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was that he was with Dalton, and that he was saying, “Yes, yes, of course I will marry you. Of course I will. Do you even understand what you’ve done for me? Do you get it? Feeling like I don’t have to live my life half in secret? That I can be proud of where I came from, not because of money or power or anything like that…but because I came from someone who loved me, who protected me, who wanted the best for me? Do you know what it means to be able to reclaim my past like this?”
Dalton looked up at him and gave him another kiss. “I think I understand. I got you a ring, by the way…but I think you might’ve knocked it into the grass.”
Noah sat up and looked around, seeing a little glitter of metal between the bright green blades. “Is this it? Put it on me properly. Come on. Down on one knee. Or, up on one knee, in this case. Let’s do this right.”
Dalton grinned and picked the ring up, blowing a bit of grass from it. Then he knelt before Noah. “Noah G. Turnstock, love of my life, heart of my heart, fire of my loins—”
“Um—”
“Light of my soul…will you do me the honor of being my husband?”
“That is a fantastic ring. I’m going to show it off to Liam and Judah, they’re going to be so jealous.”
“You have to put it on first, Noah. That’s what makes this official.”
Noah laughed. “Slip it on me, baby.”
It fit perfectly…as he knew it would. Dalton was a stickler for little details like that.
“It’s beautiful,” Noah said.
“You’re beautiful,” Dalton replied. “And don’t say anything snarky or self-deprecating. I mean it. You’re the most beautiful man in the world.”
“Almost,” he said. “I’ll never be able to match your eyes.”
He embraced Dalton then, and had another of those odd moments that had been happening lately.
The first time it had happened, he didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, and it left him dizzy, unsteady on his feet.
The second time it happened, he understood better what it was…but was still a little suspicious of it.
But now? Now he could feel it and recognize it for what it was:
The world was right.
In all the turmoil, in all the chaos, Noah had found someone who could make things right. Someone to protect him, yet someone who wouldn’t lord over him (except when he wanted it). Someone who understood h
im, who would talk with him until late in the night about anything that came to mind, someone who made the world make sense.
It’s a strange feeling, to realize, for once in your life, that everything’s going to be all right.
That things are good again.
That you are loved.
“One thing,” he whispered to Dalton.
“Anything,” Dalton murmured back. “The world is yours for the asking.”
“Just tell me you love me, one more time. Tell me you’ll love me forever, and that this isn’t a dream, that it’s real.”
The arms around him were solid and strong, and the lips that touched his were warm and full of life. “It’s real,” said Dalton. “It’s all real. And I will love you to the end of the world.”
And that was all he needed.
The money, the ease, the house, the town, all of it was nice, it was good, but it was extra.
This was what he needed. This love.
This love was everything.
And more.
***
BONUS: Not all the Mulgrews are villains! Read more about Thaddeus Mulgrew in this exclusive short story!
https://claims.prolificworks.com/free/OPSEGFkV
In case you missed it… A Selection from “Spring Forward,” the first book in Superbia Springs!
“I assume you’ve seen the house,” said the old lawyer, looking up from his legal pad. The edges of the pad were frayed and dog-eared; he had been rubbing them with his thumb ever since Liam came into the tall, sparsely furnished room. It made Liam wonder if the lawyer were nervous about something. Or maybe Liam was projecting his own nerves. The whole drive down, he had been agitated, expectant, even if he didn’t know what he was expecting. He stared at the edge of the yellow pad. Those pages looked like how he felt right now.
“Sorry, I haven’t,” Liam said.
The older man’s bushy eyebrows rose. “No? You’ve never been? They’ve never taken you?”
Liam’s head shake might have been meant to communicate No, no one ever has, but his eyes couldn’t stay on the lawyer’s. Instead, they traveled past him, looking at the clock on the wall. How many hours had he been away from home now? Was everything okay? What was it that required him to be here, now, in this office, with everything going on back home?
He made himself focus back on the lawyer, made himself force a smile. No reason not to be friendly. “I don’t think my family knows anything about this, Mr. Edwards. I never heard of a Great-Uncle Silas, until your secretary called to make this appointment. I’m still not convinced I’m the man you’re looking for.”
The lawyer’s teeth disapproved, making a clicking tsk, as if Liam should know that family was the most important thing—even very, very distant family that had been dead for some time. Liam wondered if Mr. Edwards’ home was covered in family pictures, generation after generation, back to the very beginning of photography. Maybe paintings as well. Here is a cave-painting of Great-Great-Great-Grandpa Grog. Really captures the eyes, doesn’t it?
He kept his laugh to himself, but had to remember to tell that one to Judah and Noah when he got home. They were probably still in shock that he, of all people, would drop everything and rush to a town he’d never been to, down in the flattest, most parched land Georgia had available, all to talk about an inheritance from some uncle he’d never heard of.
“I can take you to see it,” Edwards said, pushing the legal pad to the side. “It’s out of town a ways.”
This whole place is out of town a ways, Liam thought. The car he’d rented for the drive was covered in orange dust, and its air conditioning had kept threatening to quit, the minute he’d left the interstate and started on the long, plain back roads that lead him to Superbia. “Can we take your car?” he asked.
A clanging sounded from his pocket, like a recording of church bells falling onto pavement, just as they stepped out of the law office and into the blinding-white sun. Liam blinked and pulled out his phone. “I didn’t realize I had reception out here,” he said.
Mr. Edwards scowled. “We are not uncivilized, Mr. Cooper.”
“Give me a sec. I have to take this.” He stepped away from the lawyer, into the slightly cooler shade by the side of the office, and tapped his screen. “Judah? What’s up? Is everything okay? Is she—”
“Oh god, Liam, she poops so much!”
“I’m pretty sure I told you that already.”
His younger brother sounded frantic. “Yeah, but I thought you were exaggerating! How many diapers should she go through, I mean, in terms of diapers per day? Or should I measure it in diapers per hour? I thought about making a chart, a spreadsheet— Oh, but should I send Noah to buy more, or—”
“Um, dude, where is Mom?”
“That’s the worst part! She said it looked like Roo was in good hands, so she went off to lunch with her friends, and I don’t know anything about babies—”
“Yeah? Think about how I feel!” There was an edge to his voice that he hadn’t intended. But ever since he’d left Rooney in his brother’s care (with promises of close supervision from his mother), he’d felt a constant anxiety clutching at his stomach. A baby shouldn’t be away from her dad that long, he’d told his mom.
I’ve raised two babies so far, hon, and I haven’t lost either of you yet, so trust your mama, she’d said. Besides, whatever this meeting is, you think little Roo wants to sit through that?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” he said into the phone. “It’s just hard, not having Roo with me. Listen, having a baby, it’s 50% love and 50% sanitation duty. Maybe sometimes more like 75% sanitation. Did you look in the linen closet? I stocked extra diapers, extra wipes, extra ointment—”
“Ohhh, the linen closet,” said Judah.
Judah was whip-smart, the smartest person Liam knew, but sometimes he needed the obvious pointed out to him. From a distance, Liam could hear Roo cooing happily. For all Judah’s worry, Liam knew his daughter loved her uncle. After all, Judah had been there from the start, even through those hard times, right after Richard—
Liam shook his head. No time to think about that.
“Not to change the subject, but have you had your big meeting yet?” Judah asked. “What’s it all about?”
“I’m about to find out,” he said. “Now look, quit worrying about Roo. You’re going to do fine. You don’t have to make any charts, don’t have to do any calculations. Unless it makes you feel better, in which case, go for it. If you need a break, Noah promised he’d help you watch her. Between you, him and Mama, you really aren’t going to have any problems. Just…”
“Just what?”
“Just don’t play any of your video games in front of her, okay? I don’t need her seeing you blowing up zombies or whatever.”
Judah tsked in a way that sounded just like Mr. Edwards had. “Zombies are so passé, Liam. This isn’t the early 2000s, you know.”
When they were in the car, Mr. Edwards glanced over at him. “Did I hear you mention diapers? Do you have a child, Mr. Cooper?”
“I do,” Liam said. He reached forward and adjusted the passenger-side air conditioning vent, so it was blowing on his face. The cold was an instant relief.
“Our records must be outdated,” said the lawyer. “I hadn’t realized. And your wife, is she—”
Liam cut him off. “Tell me more about my Great-Uncle Silas, please? I’ve asked my mom, but I guess my dad never talked about his more distant family.”
Dad never talked about a lot of things.
The lawyer blinked, clearly aware of Liam’s abrupt change in subject, but just as clearly too seasoned to probe into the matter right now. He must have seen a lot of family drama in his career. He simply started the car and pulled out onto the dusty road.
“You’ll have to understand that I never met your uncle myself,” said Mr. Edwards. “By the time I took over the practice, he had become reclusive. We communicated only by letter. He was insistent that your father should
inherit, having no children of his own… But I suppose you know all about your father’s refusal.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Liam, “but please don’t suppose I know anything about my dad or his family. Things there were always…”
His voice trailed off. What was it about him lately? Words kept failing him, as though he’d reached the end of life’s dictionary and had no words left to say.
Mr. Edwards patted the steering wheel with his hand, as though patting Liam on the shoulder. A little attaboy, a little it’s okay that you know nothing about your father or his family.
It was the furthest thing from okay. It kept slapping him in the face, over and over. Sometimes it seemed like the late Rodney Cooper had spent a lifetime collecting secrets to shock his eldest son, as they came out, one by one.
“My dad never wanted this house?”
Glancing at the rear-view mirror, he saw the lawyer’s eyes cutting to the side. “I’m afraid not. We could not even get him to come back to town to sign the papers.”
They were passing through the town, but already in the distance the land was visible, the green fields that seemed oddly out of place here, where one would expect nothing but barren flats, clay deserts growing nothing but scraggly grass fit only for goats. How could these farms survive the heat? Yet they seemed to flourish, acre after acre of corn and peanut.
Somewhere out there would be the house Uncle Silas had tried to pawn off on Dad. Probably some ramshackle construction of clapboard, half-collapsed from too much sun, like all the energy had been sapped out of its timbers. The same way Liam felt.
How did anyone live out here?
And yet people did. Mr. Edwards raised his hand to a lady who was sweeping the sidewalk of a storefront, and she smiled and waved back, peering past him to get a look at Liam. There were stores, houses, vehicles, all the signs of a small town’s life.
“Over there is the motel,” the lawyer said, pointing through the glass. “It might be smart to book a room there, if you haven’t already.”
“I don’t think I’ll be in town that long,” said Liam.