by Frank, Ella
“Yeah, but there’s no love lost there. So there must be another reason.”
Willa eyed me as she pondered, and it was amazing how comfortable I suddenly felt around her. All day I’d been on edge around my family and the locals. Then there was that moment in the wine cellar with Laurel. But that was a whole different kind of edge. The kind I wanted to feel again, as soon as possible.
“I came back because of my mom.”
“Ah. Well, maybe you’ll stay for a different reason.”
“I’m not staying.”
Willa clicked several buttons on the computer then asked, “Then how long should I book you in for?”
“Don’t you need my name?”
“It’s Noah, right?”
I opened my mouth and then shut it again. She really did know my family. “Right.”
“That’s what I thought. All I need now is a credit card and the length of your stay.”
I fished out my wallet and handed over my card. “Can we leave it open-ended for now? Or do you need a definite date?”
Willa picked up my card and began typing in the numbers. “We can leave it open.”
“Okay, good.”
“Mhmm.” She went back to filling in the rest of my details, and once she was done, she ran through the times that breakfast and evening coffee were served, along with what was and wasn’t available for guests in the way of rooms in the house.
I listened quietly as she ran through her spiel, and once she was done, she handed me a key and brochure.
“You’re on the second floor in the Shakespeare suite. Would you like some help with your bags?”
“No. No. That’s fine, thanks. I really appreciate this.”
“Of course.”
I turned and headed for the front door to collect my things, and just as I was about to step outside, I heard her call out, “How did you hear about Wilhelmina’s?”
I paused and looked back at her. “Uh, through an old friend. You probably know her. Laurel Anderson?”
“I do. Laurel’s lovely.”
I thought about the way Laurel’s dress had clung to the curves of her body and had to agree. “She is.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Willa’s lips. “Okay, well, everything’s set and I’ll just assume you plan to stay until…whenever you go.”
I had no idea what that smile was about, and I wasn’t about to ask—the last thing I needed was any speculation over when I planned to leave. Instead, I headed out to the car to collect my things, ready for a good night’s sleep.
6
Laurel
“JAKE? JAKE! ARE you home?” I pushed through the front door, kicked off my heels, and tossed my keys on the entryway table.
It had just turned seven, and I was exhausted. It’d been a long day from beginning to end, but as the familiar smell of pepperoni pizza hit my nose, I closed my eyes and inhaled.
Ah, my son was a saint.
“I’m in here,” he called from the kitchen.
As I made my way down the hall, I shrugged out of my coat. “Pizza? You do love me.”
I rounded the corner to see Jake standing over by the fridge with a bottle of Coke in his hand. He’d changed out of his black slacks and shirt, and was now in his favored jeans, t-shirt, and backward baseball cap. At six foot two, my baby boy wasn’t so much a baby anymore, and every time I remembered that, it hit a little harder.
“Yeah, you’re not so bad. You know, as a mom and all.”
I scoffed and draped my coat over the back of the kitchen chair. “High praise coming from you.”
I took a seat, and when he placed the Coke on the table, I poured us both a glass. “Did you catch up with Caleb?”
“Yeah, his dad finally said that he can come and work with me and Ryan for the summer. I thought for sure he’d be stuck at the grocery store.”
I cracked my neck from side to side and then sat back in my chair. “You have to remember, Mr. Wilson relies on Caleb to help him—”
“For free.”
“Well, he is his son, Jake.”
“So? How’s he ever gonna make any money if he’s always doing free labor for his dad? Most parents would pay their son to work at their store, but not Mr. Cheap Ass.”
“Jake. Don’t talk like that.”
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
It was, but I wasn’t about to bad-mouth one of the local business owners. This place was too tight-knit, too in each other’s pockets, and one wrong word or miscommunication and your life—or business—could go down the tubes.
“He said yes, though, right? Now Caleb can earn a little money before he goes away to college at the end of summer. That’s good.”
“I guess.”
“It is. And you know how Ryan gets around this time of the year. Another pair of hands and eyes won’t hurt you.”
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, a dead giveaway that he was anxious about something. “Don’t remind me. Bud-break brain really is a thing. I swear, he goes from the coolest boss in the world to the highest strung.”
“It’s a stressful time. One cold night and the whole crop can go to waste. That’s a lot of pressure when you wait all winter for the vines to bloom.”
“I know. It’s just funny. Ryan’s usually so chill, so it’s weird when he acts all tripped up.”
I smirked and reached for my drink. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. But maybe keep that opinion to yourself when he’s waking you up at three a.m. to go and turn all the fans on.”
Jake chuckled as the timer on the oven buzzed. “No lie. I’d like to keep my head on my shoulders, thank you very much.”
He removed the pizza from the oven and cut it into slices, then he put two on a plate and slid it on the table in front of me.
“You’re too good to me.”
“I really am. But also, you worked your ass off today. I wasn’t about to let you come home and cook dinner.”
A saint. He really was a saint. “Well, it’s much appreciated. Pizza is such a better option than what I had in mind if you weren’t here.”
“What’s that?” he asked as he took the seat opposite me.
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
Jake screwed his nose up. “In that case, I’m glad I was here to save you.”
“Me too.”
We sat there in comfortable silence, each munching down on the cheese and pepperoni goodness. It was like heaven on a hand-tossed crust.
“So…that guy in the wine cellar with you today. That’s Ryan’s brother, huh?”
Jake’s question was so out of the blue, so casual, that it almost made me choke on the bite I’d just taken. Luckily, I still had some Coke in my glass, and I quickly washed down the piece of pizza that was threatening to end my life.
“Yes, it is. But I wasn’t in the wine cellar with him. I thought it was Bree sneaking some alcohol, so I went to check. You make it sound so scandalous.”
Jake laughed. “I was just asking a question. Sheesh, relax over there, would you.”
“I am relaxed.”
“Uh huh.” Jake took another bite of his pizza. “Sure you are. Maybe you should get caught in the wine cellar with a guy.”
“Jake.”
“What? I mean, you never go out. When was the last time you went on a date?”
I couldn’t actually remember. But that was beside the point. “Thanks for the reminder there, bud. But I’ll have you know, I’m just fine as I am.”
“Okay. But you’re acting kind of weird.”
“No I’m not.” As soon as I said the words, I realized they were a lie. I sounded like a thirteen-year-old girl. Or maybe the sixteen-year-old who had fallen madly in love with Noah Chamberlin.
“Riiight. Well, on that note, I’m gonna be on the PS5 for a while. That okay?”
“That’s fine. Leave this, and I’ll clean up.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. It’s just a couple of plates.”
&nb
sp; “Okay. By the way, you threw an awesome wake today.”
I frowned. “I’m not sure those two things go together.”
“Too bad, it’s true.”
The grin on his lips as he left the room belied any sadness over the one we’d sent off today. But then again, I wasn’t sure anyone in town was truly sorry to see Harry go. Still, I’d have to remind Jake not to be so obvious about it tomorrow.
I finished off my last bite of pizza and got to my feet to take our plates to the sink. As I rinsed them off, I stared out the bay window at the large oak tree swaying in the breeze, and had a fleeting thought as to what Noah was doing right now.
It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to think about him. His memory was locked away along with my mother, classified as too painful to think of. But as I stacked the plates and started up the dishwasher, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d taken up my suggestion and gone to Willa’s.
I could always call and ask? See if he got there okay.
And why would I do that? It would be weird and cause way too many questions. If Noah wanted a place to stay then he would find one. It was none of my business what he did. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?
I made my way into my room, ready to get into something more comfortable, and when I pulled open my closet to grab my robe, I stood there staring at the row of coats to my left.
There, wedged between the wall and about ten overcoats, was the memory I never allowed myself to revisit. Blue, white, and gold. The colors of Chamberlin High.
This varsity jacket was a stark reminder of one of the worst memories of my life. But instead of going back there to that point in time, I closed my eyes and remembered the moment Noah had walked into my life instead…
“I REALLY DON’T want to go in there, Mom. Can’t I just go back to my old school?”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I know this won’t be easy, but this is where you have to go now. I’m sure after the first couple of days you’ll settle in and make new friends.”
Yeah, somehow I doubted that. The kids that went here were nothing like me. They were rich, spoiled, and had no problem whatsoever looking down their nose at anyone who wasn’t like them. I should know—I’d been on the receiving end of that look many times. That was what happened when you grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, and no, I wasn’t being dramatic.
I’d grown up three towns over from the charming town of Chamberlin, where the railway tracks divided the rich from the poor. But as of last week, my mother had gotten a new job managing the local hair salon, and we’d moved on up. Or at least over the tracks, through the town, and five miles down the road from the Chamberlin winery, where at the very end of a loose gravel road was a nicely hidden trailer park.
I stared up at the intimidating two-story brick building and wondered what teenage horrors waited inside for me. The last thing any sixteen-year-old girl wanted to do was make new friends. It was hard enough to keep the ones you had with all the gossiping and moodiness that came with the onslaught of hormones at that age.
“Come on, Laurel. I don’t have all day.”
I groaned and shoved open the car door. Then I reached for my backpack and climbed outside. As Mom revved the engine, I turned around and stuck my head back in the window.
“Are you sure I can’t just start tomorrow?”
She gave me a soft smile and shook her head. “You’re going to be fine. You’re smart and strong, I made sure of that. Just be yourself and I’ll see you tonight.”
I rolled my eyes and moved back from the car, not wanting to be the reason she was late on her first day. Then I turned to look back at the building. This was going to be a nightmare, and as I heard her drive away, I thought about making a run for it.
“I wouldn’t if I were you. They have cameras.” At the sound of the unfamiliar voice, I turned to see one of the cutest—no, hottest—guys I’d ever seen in my life.
He was tall, really tall, and had thick brown hair that was swept back from his gorgeous face. He was wearing a blue, white, and gold varsity jacket over a white t-shirt, and his smile was full of the kind of confidence one had when everything in their life was perfect. And, I was ashamed to admit, the second he flashed it my way, my heart thumped a little faster.
“Cameras?”
“Yeah.” He chuckled and pointed at the front steps that led up to the doors. “Up in the corner. See?”
I looked in the direction he was pointing, and when he moved in closer, I almost forgot to breathe.
“If you’re gonna make a break for it, you should tell your mom to drop you off around the corner there. That way they won’t see you.”
I opened my mouth, about to deny my escape plan, but instead heard myself ask, “How’d you know I planned to skip?”
He grinned down at me, and I swore his eyes were smiling too. “I recognized the look. That one that says you’re about to bolt. I totally get it—most days I’m dreaming up escape plans too.”
I seriously doubted that. The guy was wearing a jacket that all but broadcast his popularity for everyone to see.
“You don’t believe me.”
“Huh?”
“You rolled your eyes. You don’t believe me.”
I shrugged and tightened my fingers around the strap of my backpack. “It’s just you don’t seem like the type who’d hate school. That’s all.”
He slowly nodded as he began to head toward the building, then he turned around and called out, “Maybe I won’t now that I’ve found a partner in crime. See you in there, Bonnie.”
Bonnie? What? Oh, Bonnie and Clyde.
When he grinned and turned to run up the front steps, I couldn’t help but think that maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all…
GOD. IT’D BEEN years since I’d thought about that day. But after hearing him call me Bonnie tonight, it was no surprise that the memory had found its way back to me.
I shook it off and placed the jacket back in the closet where it had hung for all this time, then I slowly closed the doors and headed to the bathroom. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to lie here in my bathtub and let a boy—a man—whom I hadn’t seen or heard from in forever consume my every thought.
But as I climbed into the hot, fragrant water, I knew that was a lie. Because the second I shut my eyes, all I could see was the way that Noah had looked me over today, and all I wanted to know was if he’d liked what he saw.
7
Noah
THE OLD HARDWOOD floors of the courthouse creaked under my feet as I paced back and forth outside one of the conference rooms. It was Monday morning, and per my mom’s instructions, I was ready and waiting to hear whatever final surprises Harry had in store for us.
Today was the reading of the will, and ever since she’d called last night to tell me we all had to be present or it could not proceed, I’d had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Harry never did anything in half measures. He also never did anything to benefit anyone except himself. So the idea that he’d sat down and penned some elaborate final demands to be read in the presence of all his children made me think he still had some kind of end game to play.
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from running them through my hair as I continued to wear a hole in the floor. I should’ve known this visit wouldn’t be a simple check-in on Mom. Of course not. This had been the real reason. I was needed for this next step in Harry’s little shitshow—whatever that might be.
The echo of the front doors opening bounced around the cavernous lobby of the courthouse, alerting me to someone’s arrival, and when I spotted Justin heading my way, I began to think God had a sense of humor.
I readied myself for what would no doubt be an awkward greeting, as Justin came to a stop opposite me and glanced past my shoulder.
“Where is everyone?”
With his rumpled clothes and bloodshot eyes, there was no doubt in my mind that he’d finished whatever bottle he
’d tracked down yesterday. I was actually surprised he’d showed up this morning, and on time too.
“They’re not here yet,” I said as I looked over his scuffed-up boots, ripped jeans, and t-shirt. He had a silver chain linked to his belt loop that fed into one of his pockets, and now that he no longer wore his leather jacket, I could see an elaborate ink design up his left bicep.
“Great. Mom said nine, right?”
“That’s what I was told.”
Justin walked by me, our shoulders bumping up against one another, and the message was clear: stay out of my way.
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.”
“Whatever.” He headed to the long wooden bench seat on one side of the room, then sat down, crossed his arms, and kicked his legs out in front of him. “Not like I’ve got Italy to get back to.”
Right. He wasn’t pissed or anything, was he?
“Look.” I stood in front of him. “I want to be here about as much as you want me here, okay?”
Justin shrugged. “I don’t care if you’re here or not.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious.”
“Good. What you do makes no difference to me one way or another. I wanna get this over with and get back to my life.”
I was about to tell him he’d get no arguments from me when the doors of the courthouse opened again and Brianna, Ryan, and Mom stepped inside.
Thank God, now we could finally get this thing started.
“Noah, Justin, sorry we’re running late.” Mom gave a quick wave before rushing by us toward the door at the very far end of the hall. Ryan and Brianna came to a stop where I stood.
“You two been here long?” Ryan looked to Justin, who shook his head, then he turned to me.
“About ten minutes.”
“Gotcha.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, obviously sensing the tension.
Brianna sat beside Justin. “How are you feeling?” she said in a hushed tone. “Jameson said you passed out on his couch last night.”
Justin’s eyes found mine as if he were daring me to judge. But hey, to each their own. Whatever way he wanted to celebrate—or mourn, I guess—Harry’s life, that was entirely up to him.