9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Noelle

It's been over an hour since I heard Cole go to his room and I haven't stopped tossing and turning. My inability to fall asleep after the day of travel I've had makes no sense.

I flip onto my back, let out a giant huff and stare at the ceiling for another minute before finally throwing the covers off. There's no point continuing to lay here in the dark, pretending I will fall asleep at any moment. It's not happening.

I sit up and quietly throw my legs off the side of the bed. Then, I slowly lower my feet to the floor, trying to avoid making any noise and risk waking Cole up. I carefully put all of my weight on my feet, then gingerly tip-toe my way to the door.

The floor creaks and I freeze, holding my breath. When I don't hear anything outside my room, I take the final steps to the door and grab the doorknob. I slowly turn the knob doing my best to prevent the latch from making any noise.

When the door finally opens, I stand still and listen for any sounds. When I'm met with silence, I let out a sigh of relief. I open the door and slowly work my way down the hallway into the living room.

The room is bathed in shadows as the barely lit fire is in its final stage of life.

"Can't have that." I smirk and quietly grab a log, placing it on the embers. I pick up the bellows sitting next to the poker and squeeze a few times, hoping to stoke the fire back to life.

I watch as tiny flames lick at the new wood, and I can already feel the heat starting to embrace me.

A shadow to my left catches my eye, and I turn to find the Balsam Fir set up in the corner. I walk over and rub one of the branches, my lips softly lifting at the corners.

It is lovely. Cole was right. Gran would be very proud of this tree selection .

My smile dips as I think of my grandmother. What would she think about how my life turned out? Would she be disappointed in me? Would she have chastised me over my decisions?

The knowledge strikes me that if she were still with me, she would be nothing but loving and supportive. I also do not doubt that my life today would be completely different.

Gran was the one person I could always depend on while Mom and Dad were going through their drama. She supported me, loved me and did her best to guide me. That's why I didn't hesitate to move to Utah when she got sick, even though it meant completely changing my plans.

Not taking my eyes off the tree, I amble backward until the back of my legs meet the couch. I lower myself gently to the cushions, tuck my legs under me and lean my elbow against the armrest as my other arm gently rubs my chest.

"Ladybug, what's wrong?" Cole sweeps me up in his arms as tears fall down my face.

"Gran is sick," I whisper, shock filling every part of my body. Cole and I were with her a month ago, and she looked fine.

I noticed there were moments when she hesitated before doing something, but when I asked if something was wrong, she insisted everything was okay.

But it wasn't. She just didn't want to worry me, and she hadn't had any answers yet. Today, after all the tests and speaking to her doctor, she has answers, but they aren't good.

"She has cancer." Cole's arms wrap tighter around me and his warmth surrounds me but doesn't get rid of the chill that's taken over my body.

"I'm so sorry, Bug." I feel his lips on the top of my head as he gently rocks me back and forth. "How can I help?"

"She told me the doctor said she's lucky it's only stage one and completely treatable." I sink into Cole's embrace, letting his strength support me. "I told her I was coming to help her, but she said she wanted me to stay in school. That she'll let me know if she needs help."

"What about your Dad? Can he help?" Cole's hand runs up and down my back.

"I haven't called him yet." I let out a choppy breath. My dad is a journeyman carpenter and goes where the work is. Sometimes, he's in Utah; other times he's not. When he is, he stays with his mom. "Gran said that she called him, and he was going to come and stay with her while she was getting treatments."

"Well, that's good." I nod my head up and down against his chest.

I have three months left before college graduation. The MLB draft is in July. Cole and I have been talking about what we would do when he is drafted to the majors. Barring any injuries, Cole will be drafted. Scouts have been coming to games since last season, and at least half of the teams want him.

We were going to spend our life together; we already had a plan.

But that plan didn't include Gran getting sick.

"What am I going to do?"

Cole gently pushes me away from him so that he can look directly at me. He lifts my chin with his thumb.

"Ladybug, this doesn't change anything. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. We will do whatever we have to."

"But, the draft—"

"We have time. We'll figure this out. I promise." My heart expands at how lucky I am to have this man in my corner.

"Are you sure?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Do you even have to ask that?" He chuckles and gently brushes his lips against mine. Then he whispers against them. "You are my home. We're doing this together, and we'll figure it out. Together."

Tears fill my eyes at the turn my life took after that perfect Christmas in Utah.

Gran wasn't supposed to get sick. I wasn't supposed to marry Dean. But she did , and I did. I pushed Cole away because I didn't want to hold him back from his dream. He worked so hard and was so talented. I couldn't live with myself if I had done that to him.

The tears silently fall down my face as I relive my past choices.

The pain I caused Cole and myself by pushing him away and refusing to take his calls was breath-stealing. I knew how much time it took to be a professional athlete, and he needed to focus on his career with the Rays.

I didn't want the mess that my life had become to be a distraction. I wanted him to focus. More importantly, I wanted him to show the world what he could do. He was a fantastic pitcher and deserved all the accolades that would come his way.

During that time, I pushed Mel away for a bit. She kept calling, hoping I'd be able to see that Cole and I could figure out a way to make things work. But I couldn't see past anything other than my grief.

I thought I knew what was best. And the sicker Gran got, the more complicated things became. I couldn't drag Cole down with me.

So I didn't.

The door closing startles me, and I rub my eyes to get my bearings. I feel the heat from the roaring fire and the weight of a blanket on top of me. A smile slides across my lips, knowing Cole is responsible for both.

I snuggle under the blanket and breathe out slowly, basking in the feeling of having someone take care of me for the first time in what feels like forever.

Besides Cole and Mel, Gran was the only one I trusted to be there for me. Losing them both at the same time was—

"No, I'm not going there." I push the blanket off and get up from the couch. I walk determinedly to my room and change. I quickly stop in the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth and head back into the living room. I am determined to keep busy and not revisit the past today, though with my past confronting me in person, I'm unsure how I will do that.

But I'm determined to try.

So I do what I've done for the past ten years: I focus on this moment and this moment alone. I fold the blanket, throw it over the back of the couch, and then head to the kitchen.

I stop at the threshold as the view out the window greets me. A blanket of white lies on the ground, and flakes the size of quarters fall from the sky. My mouth drops open as my eyes take in the sight. I put my hand on the cold glass and sigh at the winter wonderland before me.

I forgot how much I missed snow storms in upstate New York. The trees are weighed down by their new coverings, and the bushes are barely visible. We already have at least five inches and no sign of it letting up.

It's the perfect morning for a full, warm breakfast. I'm pretty sure I saw eggs and bacon when I looked in the refrigerator yesterday.

I pull out a frying pan, place it on the stove, and pull forward the coffee maker. I smile at the lack of K-Cups. Old-school coffee is still my favorite.

I slide the can of coffee against the wall forward and open the box of filters. I place a filter in the basket and then pop the lid on the coffee. The vanilla cream scent of the grinds fills my nostrils, and I inhale the deliciousness. I fill the filter and then cover the grinds in a dusting of cinnamon to give the coffee something special.

The coffee maker comes to life as the water heats up, and I move to the refrigerator. I pull out the eggs, bacon, and butter and bring them to the counter. I turn the burner on to medium heat, letting the pan heat up before adding a few slices of bacon.

I return to the cabinet and grab another frying pan to start the eggs. I move around the kitchen with a sense of practiced ease, and I smile for the first time in a long time. I happily remember Christmases with my grandmother.

The only thing missing is music.