The Remake

by Noelle Adams

  Fitz remembered that achingly poignant look in Belinda’s eye when she said she wanted to be noticed. She really thought she wasn’t wanted. Wasn’t desired. Wasn’t desperately loved for who she was.

  When Fitz didn’t answer, Ken went on, “You can stand up to her. A lot of guys can’t. Don’t see why it’s not worth trying.”

  “Look at me, Ken. I’ve got nothing she’d want.” For the first time in years, Fitz wished he were different. Better. More impressive. More attractive. More successful. Something that would be a better match for Belinda.

  “Seems to me like that’s your choice. You could make more of an effort if you wanted.” Ken shrugged and started to jog in place, signaling the end to the conversation. “What the hell do I know? Except I thought I wasn’t the kind of man Madeline deserved, and I still think she could do better. But she doesn’t want better. She just wants me.”

  The words were spoken with Ken’s typical leisurely manner, but they sliced through Fitz’s chest anyway. Then Ken jogged away from him, leaving Fitz alone with nothing but riotous thoughts.

  HE GOT HOME TWENTY minutes later, breathless from the cold, dark walk and a lot of questions he still didn’t have answers for.

  His place was one room and a bathroom. Twin bed with simple sheets and one plain blanket. A small closet with a motley assortment of worn clothes. A table against the wall with one chair that served as desk and dining area and general catchall. And a minimal kitchenette with two lower cabinets, a half-sized sink, and a minifridge.

  This was his life now. He got paid in cash. He paid his expenses the same way. He didn’t even have a bank account since when he’d moved there he hadn’t wanted to put down any roots. He’d assumed in a couple of years he’d stick another pin in the map and move again.

  But he’d liked it there, so he never had.

  There was an unframed mirror on the back of his door. He walked over to it and stared at himself, barely recognizing the unkempt man who looked back at him.

  Was that really him? Half bear and half scarecrow? No wonder Belinda chided him for his grooming. No wonder she would never seriously consider him as anything but a pest who occasionally helped her out with work around the house.

  He’d been a normal man before. He’d had a stressful job, managing his family’s real estate company. He’d worn suits. He’d had short, curly brown hair and blue eyes and a clean-shaven face. He’d often worked seventy-hour weeks. He’d had as much of a social life as his work schedule had allowed. He’d had friends and girlfriends and social acquaintances and a family. He’d assumed he’d eventually get married and have kids.

  His life hadn’t been perfect, but it had felt all right. Normal.

  Then his family had died, and he’d been left with a mountain of grief and responsibility. None of which he’d wanted.

  So he’d run away. He’d left everything. He’d made a life for himself with no ties, no burdens, no expectations. No tidal wave of pain waiting to crash over him if he held on too tightly or made one wrong step. He’d hidden who he really was from the world.

  Part of him still wanted that. Wanted the freedom it had offered him.

  But the rest of him had to finally acknowledge that he also wanted more.

  He didn’t want everything he’d had before. He didn’t want his old job or his old stress or the family fortune he hadn’t earned. He didn’t want to risk that tidal wave again.

  But he also didn’t want to live alone for the rest of his life. And he wanted Belinda.

  Maybe Ken was right. Maybe it was worth a shot. Maybe he could make an effort and not let the best thing that had ever happened slip away without even reaching out for it.

  He stood staring at himself for almost fifteen minutes as he came to a number of conclusions.

  Then he dug through his closet until he found scissors, a razor, and a comb.

  AT FIVE O’CLOCK THAT afternoon, Fitz went back over to Belinda’s house with the supplies he’d need to fix her fence.

  He’d done a rough estimate in his mind about the best time to go over. He knew she was having Christmas dinner with Ria and Jacob at one, and they’d need time to eat and hang out and exchange presents and whatever else they were doing.

  But Ria and Jacob weren’t likely to stay at Belinda’s all day. Not with a new baby. So he figured five was a good time to show up.

  She might be alone, in which case he could keep her company. And either way, he had a good excuse. He wanted to fix her fence anyway.

  There were no extra cars in the driveway when he arrived, so he figured his timing had worked out well. When he was hit with a sudden case of nerves, he decided to just start working at the fence. She’d probably see him and come out to say hello.

  He’d been working for about fifteen minutes when he saw the front door open. His heartbeat accelerated. He felt like a teenage boy with his first crush. He was too excited and self-conscious to even turn around.

  “Hey,” he heard her say as she walked toward him. “You didn’t have to do this on Christmas day.”

  “That’s all right.” He steeled his will, straightened up, and turned around with a smile. “I don’t mind.”

  He’d trimmed his hair and cleaned up his beard. He wasn’t ready to shave it off completely, but it was a lot shorter now. Neat. He thought he looked better, and he wanted to know what Belinda thought.

  As soon as she saw his face, she squealed and jumped backward, dropping the wrapped gift she’d been holding.

  “What the hell?” he muttered with a frown. That was not the reaction he’d been going for.

  “What happened?” she demanded, flushed and wide-eyed. She leaned over to pick up the dropped gift.

  “What do you mean, what happened? What do you think happened?”

  “I almost didn’t recognize you. Talk about a surreal experience. I thought it was you, and you turn around and it looked like someone else.” Her eyes were running up and down his body, as if she were searching for proof of his identity.

  “Of course it’s me,” he grumbled, vaguely annoyed at himself for being so disappointed. What had he thought would happen? That she’d be so overwhelmed with admiration she’d fall into his arms? “Who the hell else would it be?”

  “That’s the point. I thought it was you, but then you didn’t look like yourself.”

  He rubbed his shorter beard distractedly. “It was getting too long. I figured it was time for a once-a-year trim up.”

  “Do you really do it once a year on Christmas?” She appeared to believe his spontaneous explanation. Her expression was amused and interested. “I don’t remember it from other years.”

  “That’s because you weren’t paying attention.”

  It was a straight-out lie, but it worked. She let the subject drop and said instead, “But seriously, you don’t have to do all this on Christmas day. It could wait.”

  “I didn’t have anything else to do. I wanted to.”

  Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she glanced down, her thick, dark eyelashes spreading out against her smooth skin.

  She was so beautiful. Touchable. He gripped the drill he was holding with both hands so he wouldn’t try to touch her.

  Fitz suddenly realized she was dressed up. She had on a new red top that slid off one of her shoulders and wore black leggings and simple jewelry. She also had makeup on.

  “You look really nice,” he heard himself saying.

  Her cheeks got pinker as she darted a quick look up. “Thanks.”

  “I thought you would have changed clothes since your guests are gone.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I, uh, I’m going out.”

  Maybe the words could have meant anything, but the way she said them made their significance very clear. Fitz’s body tensed up. He sucked in a breath. “Going out?”

  “With Charles. He called. A while ago.”

  “He asked you out on Christmas?” He really shouldn’t sound so rough and outraged. He had absolutely no right. But he w
as suddenly pulsing with resentment. Jealousy.

  “Not really out, out. Just for a drive to go look at the Christmas lights in Chelsea. It’s not really a date or anything.” Chelsea was a nearby town where they went all out on the lights and decorations.

  It sounded like a date to Fitz. It sounded like she was going out with another man—right when he...

  When he’d done absolutely nothing.

  Of course, she was allowed to go out with whomever she wanted. Nothing had happened between them. And even if it had, she had no ties or commitments to him.

  But he still wanted to strangle something. Hard.

  Despite his instinctive response, he needed to act mature and reasonable and support whatever she wanted. So that’s what he would do. Be supportive. And mature. And reasonable.

  “Sounds like a pretty cheap date,” he muttered.

  Her shoulders stiffened. She glared at him in a very familiar way. “I just told you it wasn’t a date. He’s new in town, and he’d heard about the lights.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You can keep your snide comments to yourself. I think it sounds fun, and no one asked you anyway.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact.” He narrowed his eyes as he returned her glare.

  “Oh. You’re the most annoying man in the history of the world. Did you know that?” She snapped out the words and then thrust the wrapped gift at him. “So here.”

  He looked down at the box. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a present, you big jerk. It’s for you, so take it and shut the hell up.”

  He reached out to take the box, and she whirled around and stomped into the house. He held the gift for a long time, staring down at it.

  Not in a million years would he have expected her to get him a Christmas present. Even if it had been offered in an angry huff, it was still such a sweet gesture that his hands were actually shaking.

  He didn’t dare open it. Not here. Not now.

  He returned to his work on the gate and was still working on it when Charles came by to pick her up in his fancy car.

  Fitz tried not to notice. Tried not to care. Managed not to look as the two of them walked from the house and drove away.

  He finished the gate in less than two hours. It was dark out now. The house was quiet and empty. He had no reason to hang around. She might be gone a long time. She might be gone all night.

  He couldn’t wait around for her. That would be wrong. It would be a creepy stalker move to hang around just to see when she got home and whether she invited Charles inside.

  Plus it would hurt like hell to see it.

  So he gathered up his tools and the remainder of the supplies. Then he put the small wrapped gift he’d brought for her on the mat at her front door.

  Then, step by step, he forced his feet to walk back to his car and then drive home.

  Six

  BACK AT HIS PLACE, Fitz kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his small bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to imagine what Belinda was doing with Charles right now.

  A drive to see some Christmas lights in a neighboring town wasn’t a particularly romantic outing. It could, in fact, be described as friendly. Charles was new in town. He was acquainted with Belinda, and she happened to be single and available. It didn’t mean he was into her. He might not make a move.

  Fitz could take little comfort in that line of thought. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine a straight man existed who wouldn’t be into Belinda, who wouldn’t think she was the best and most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.

  He couldn’t believe he’d entertained even the slimmest hope that she might be just a little attracted to him. He lacked anything women might be looking for. Stability. Motivation. Ambition. Commitment. Basic grooming. What the hell had he thought was going to happen?

  God, he was pathetic. This was his life. The one he’d made for himself. That meant he had to live with the consequences of it, and one of them was that he’d never get a woman like Belinda to give him more than a few kind words every now and then.

  It was probably better that way.

  Speaking of giving, she’d given him a Christmas gift. He’d stuck it on the floor of the back seat of the car and forgotten about it. He jumped up, put his shoes back on, and ran out to get it.

  When he returned, breathless from more than his race down and up the stairs, he pulled off the pretty green wrapping paper and then opened the box.

  He stared for a minute, processing what was inside. Then he started to laugh in breathy huffs as he pulled out the grooming set in its brown leather pouch. Most of the items were chrome plated—razor, comb, scissors, nail clippers. There was also an electric trimmer with two different beard attachments.

  It must have been expensive. The leather and craftsmanship were fine quality. Definitely not something she could have just picked up from Target. But her tongue must have been firmly in cheek when she’d bought this grooming set for him.

  Smiling foolishly, he carefully picked up each item and admired it before sliding it back into its slot in the pouch.

  Maybe she’d been partly teasing in giving this to him, but it was still a thoughtful, intentional, and personal gift. She’d had to care about him at least a little to take the time to pick this out and spend this much money on him.

  He was still smiling as he lay back on the bed. He needed to thank her, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to text her right now. While she was on her date.

  She might misunderstand his intentions.

  Hopefully she wasn’t having too good a time.

  No, that was wrong. He couldn’t be selfish that way. Belinda liked Charles, and if Fitz cared about her, then he should hope it was going well. She deserved to be happy, and Fitz himself could never make her happy.

  His smile had turned into brooding when there was an unexpected knock on the door.

  It was the evening of Christmas day. Who the hell was paying him a visit? No one ever came by his place.

  Since there was no other way to figure out who it was, Fitz hauled himself up and swung open the door.

  Belinda.

  Still dressed in her black leggings and soft, touchable Christmas top. Her cheeks were red from the cold. Her dark eyes were big and questioning.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, feeling immediately urgent since he couldn’t imagine anything other than an emergency would bring her to his door right now.

  Belinda lifted a small box that he just now realized she was holding. It was the Christmas gift he’d left on her doormat. It had been unwrapped and opened.

  Inside was a delicate antique enamel pendant of cherry blossoms on a gold chain. It had belonged to his grandmother and was one of the few things he’d taken with him from his family.

  He wasn’t sure why he’d given it to Belinda this year. Maybe because part of him knew the time was coming soon when he’d have to give her up. He’d wanted her to have it—one tiny part of him and his family—before she was lost to him for good.

  Her big eyes were moving from the pendant to his face and back again. Bewildered. Emotional. Wary. “Why... why did you give me this?”

  He swallowed hard and forced himself to sound light and casual. “I thought it was nice. Don’t you like it?”

  “Of course I like it! It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. But why... why...?” The hand that was holding the box was shaking.

  His heart was hammering now. She’d obviously recognized the significance of the gift even though she didn’t understand the motivation. Everything was hanging in the balance in that moment. He needed to either convince her the gift was no big deal or else admit everything.

  Everything.

  He couldn’t do that. His whole world would change—the tidal wave would come crashing down on him—and he wasn’t equipped for that to happen. So he used every acting skill he possessed to drawl, “You gave me a gift. A much more expensive one. Why shouldn’t I give you a little tr
inket too?”

  She sucked in a breath and stared down at the open box. “So... so it wasn’t expensive?”

  “No,” he lied. He in truth had no idea how much the pendant was worth now, but it was sure to be a lot. “Where would I get money to buy an expensive gift? I just saw it at the flea market a few weeks ago and thought of you. If you don’t like it, I can take—”

  “No!” she burst out when he reached for the box. She drew the present toward her chest protectively. “I love it. I just wasn’t sure... So it wasn’t expensive or anything?” She still looked confused but a little more relaxed.

  His nonchalant act had clearly relieved her. “Of course not. I just thought it was nice.”

  “It is nice. It’s perfect.” She used one finger to stroke the enamel petals. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

  “You’re welcome.” His voice sounded too gravelly. He cleared his throat before he added, “And thank you for thinking of me too. I wasn’t expecting a gift from you even if it was kind of a bossy gesture.”

  She laughed softly, her eyes warming and a smile breaking on her face like the sun. “It wasn’t bossy. It was helpful.”

  He rubbed his newly trimmed beard, hoping he wasn’t gazing down at her too sappily. “But, as always, I defied your attempts to supervise me by beating you to the punch.”

  Her mouth wobbled in amusement. “I can’t believe you did that.” Her eyes dropped before she gave him a tantalizing upward glance. “You do look good. All trimmed up like that.”

  His heart was pounding like a jackhammer now. His skin was getting hot. “Thanks. I can’t believe I managed to impress you with such a little thing.”

  “I didn’t say I was impressed. Meeting the minimum bar in grooming isn’t all that impressive.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. Then he realized they were still standing in his doorway, and it was almost nine o’clock in the evening of Christmas. “Your date didn’t last very long.”

  She glanced away. “It wasn’t really a date.”

  “It wasn’t? So it wasn’t what you were hoping?”

  “I wasn’t hoping for anything.” Her chin went upward in a familiar defiant glare. “He asked me to drive around and look at some lights, so I agreed. It wasn’t like I was expecting to be swept off my feet.”