Chapter 30

Thirty

Our roof is fixed! All hail Mr. Winters and Mr. Can-Do, who partnered with a local crew to make those pesky leaks a thing of the past. Want to help our efforts to beautify our building? There’s a list of donations we’re looking for outside the office. If you’re doing a post-holiday clean, check with us before you throw out that rug or old desk!

MERRY

Friday evening, I picked Nolan up from his place rather than Cara and Craig’s house. Nolan was renting a teeny cottage behind a bigger house in the same neighborhood as his family and the school. The cottage’s exterior was white with blue trim with an inviting sun-yellow front door. However, Nolan was waiting on a metal garden chair on the small patio adjacent to the door, limiting my options for a hello kiss. Of course Nolan would have to be so inclined and uncaring about an audience. The older couple he rented from were out on their patio as well, avidly watching the proceedings.

“I can’t believe I still haven’t been inside your little rental.” I dropped the heavy hint, but Nolan stood and crossed the patio toward me, away from the door and privacy.

“Later.” He gave me a heated glance, then turned all prim. “ Maybe .”

“I’m going to earn that maybe.” Grinning, I gestured at his peach tuxedo shirt, which he’d paired with black slim-cut pants. “Nice shirt.”

“You did request it.” He finally offered me a return smile as we walked to my car. “And you wore the sweater we picked out together.”

“I did.” I opened the passenger door for him. Nolan was more than capable of situating himself in the car, but I still hadn’t given up hope of a kiss, hug, or some sort of warmer greeting. “It’s my new favorite top.”

“Good.” Nolan grinned more broadly, but no kiss was forthcoming as he slid into the passenger seat. Luckily, we didn’t have a Barney to contend with. The dog was home with my mother and the boys, who were having a taco night and a scary movie marathon.

As we exited the neighborhood, I took the highway toward Waikiki and all the upscale hotels of Honolulu.

“Oh, we’re going downtown.” Nolan sat up a little straighter.

“I did promise slightly fancy. Waikiki is good for that chichi feel.”

“I would have been happy with a food truck,” Nolan said pointedly.

“I know.” And the fact he was as happy eating a shared plate of garlic shrimp as he was at a fancy brunch spot was a huge part of why I’d decided to trust the idea of a relationship with him. He was adaptable and easygoing, but I had a specific surprise in mind. “But you’ll like this place I found.” A wave of doubts crested in my chest. Maybe this was a silly idea. “I hope, at least. Don’t expect too much from the food.”

“Merry.” Nolan leaned forward as I stopped for a red light at the bottom of the exit. “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” A muscle twinged in my jaw. “I know I hurt you by taking so long to accept your decision to stay and teach. I’d understand if you no longer wanted to give us a chance.”

“I’m not saying no to that at all.” Nolan sounded cautious but less distant than he had since the room reveal, which was good.

“That’s all I’m asking for right now. A chance.” I found a parking garage near our destination and led the way toward a particular hotel.

“Ooh. It’s a hotel restaurant?” Mr. I’d Be Happy at a Food Truck seemed rather perky at the prospect.

“You’ll see.” We entered the lobby, which gave away the surprise because a giant sign pointed the way to tonight’s showing of The Deadly Dinner.

“A murder-mystery dinner theater?” Nolan’s eyes were wide, but I had a hard time telling whether he was truly excited or simply being polite and a darn good actor.

“Is that too silly for a date surprise? I found it online when I was looking for other restaurant ideas.” Now that we were actually here, a fresh, way bigger wave of doubts hit. We were surrounded by older couples making their way through the lobby, mostly tourists. “And I know it’s not Broadway, but it’s an interactive theater troupe with decent reviews.”

“I love it. Sounds delightful.”

“And I was thinking maybe we can stick around after the show, and you could ask some questions, maybe make some local theater friends.” I tried to keep my tone neutral like I’d only had that thought a moment ago.

“You want me to make theater friends?” Nolan sounded both charmed and slightly confused.

“I want to be your friend too. Okay, more than a friend. But you need to find your people here. Community theater, visiting shows…”

“Merry. Are you trying to keep me from getting bored and homesick?” Nolan stopped outside the ballroom housing the performance, stepping to the side.

“Maybe.” My face scrunched as I rethought this whole plan.

“I’m very touched by this date. I am. And you know me well.” Eyes kind, he patted my arm. “Now that I’m staying, I’ll likely try to find friends beyond our fellow teachers. I’m an extrovert, and I do need the occasional theater fix. But I’ve already found my people here. The school. Cara and Craig. You and the boys. You don’t need to give me another reason not to leave.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t realized that was my intent until he pointed it out, and now I felt rather small and foolish, chest tightening. “I’m trying to trust you’ll stay. It’s hard.”

“I get that.” Nolan pulled me behind a fake palm tree, which afforded a small amount of privacy. “And at first, I don’t think I’d really thought staying through. I figured I’d stay for the term, we’d date, it would all be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry?—”

Shaking his head, Nolan continued, “As much as it pains me to admit, the break might have been necessary. Because it wasn’t all wonderful. The rainy season hit in a big way, the stomach bug swept through the school, the roof leaked, the kids were cranky, Cara and Craig needed me less, and you seemed to not need me at all…”

“I’m always going to need you, Nolan. The hard part was admitting it. I don’t want to need anyone.”

“Everyone needs other people, at least some of the time.” Nolan’s tone was reasonable without being a rebuke. “And you also rightfully didn’t want to be my only reason for staying.”

“Yeah.” I studied the garishly green fake palm leaves like they might have the secret code for solving the dinner theater murder. “I’m not sure I’m reason enough for anyone.”

“You know, for someone so smart…” Nolan gazed up at the embossed ceiling. “I spent my whole life in a metro area with millions of men. Cute men, single men, even a few willing to date me, and none, absolutely none, were as wonderful as you. And I’ve never shared this kind of chemistry and connection with anyone. That’s special. You asked me earlier to give you a chance, and that’s a big part of why I’m staying.”

“I feel bad that I can’t offer to go to the city.” A trio of tipsy women tottered down the hall, and I lowered my voice. “My whole life is here, but I’m asking you to make the bigger sacrifice.”

“I want a relationship, not a business arrangement. We’re not going to start out by measuring who does what.” Nolan gave me a stern stare. “And maybe someday, I’ll drag you to New York on a visit. Ryder would love Broadway, but you wouldn’t be Merry if you lived there, or rather, you’d be a very miserable Merry. No one wants that.”

“Yeah.” My voice came out rough because I kind of hated that I couldn’t be something else for Nolan. But the fondness in his eyes and tone both went a long way to making me feel understood.

“And as I was saying, I’ve found other reasons to stay. I’m staying because I want to be the best uncle I can and the kids won’t be little forever. I want to be here when Craig gets put in charge of more of the base because that’s happening. My brother, the future general.”

“You’re already the best uncle on Oahu.” I smiled at him, but Nolan wasn’t done with his list.

“I’m staying because teaching speaks to something deep inside me. I clung to acting as my primary job for so long because I wanted to show my parents and everyone else I could make it.”

“You did though. You managed to create a life for yourself, and you don’t need a line of Tony awards to make your point.”

“Exactly.” Nolan beamed like we were on a game show and I’d supplied the winning answer. “I’m a performer. And I realized I will always be a performer, whether in the classroom or on stage. I can be a performer in New York or Hawaii. I’m a performer, and a new locale doesn’t change that, but it does provide the opportunity for me to make a difference as a teacher.”

“You already have.” Now, my voice was all husky for a different reason. “You’ve changed so many lives for the better. Including mine.”

Behind us, a low gong sounded.

“Please join us in the ballroom. The show is about to begin.”

And so, I hoped, were we.