Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Lu

I stared at the text thread with my stepmother and sighed. After two unanswered messages—both read—I'd given up and called the restaurant she'd mentioned taking my dad to for his birthday.

The hostess who'd answered at the Laurel Park Inn happened to be a girl I'd babysat a decade ago as a teenager. Kayleigh had recognized my name on the caller ID, but if she thought it was weird that I was asking about reservations with very little to go on, she didn't say anything. She'd scanned their calendar system and confirmed a reservation for three tomorrow evening at seven o'clock under the name Kimberly Billings.

I'd ignored the hurt and confusion swirling inside me and asked Kayleigh to update that to four guests before thanking her and disconnecting.

That familiar bitterness threatened to rise, but I pushed it away. Why would Kimberly exclude me? Why couldn't we be some semblance of a family? I knew that was what my father wanted. It wasn't like I stole his attention. We didn't have father-daughter lunches or anything requiring his time beyond the occasional phone call. After all these years, why couldn't Kimberly invite me to be a small part of their lives?

Two women I didn't recognize approached my booth, so I flipped my phone over and placed it on the tabletop, focusing my attention on my customers.

The farmers' market was busy as tourists meandered the stalls and talked to the vendors. I'd met some really sweet ladies from California and talked them into checking out Dottie's Ice Cream as well as picking up a pack of greeting cards from my display. The sun was bright, but the October afternoon was chilly. A perfect fall day that made me want to go apple picking or split a funnel cake with Noah.

I fought a dreamy sigh as the two customers browsed the stock I had left. Noah had been busy with work, both driving and with website stuff. But we'd been texting and talking since our night together earlier in the week.

We'd woken up the second time and managed to make it out of bed. I smiled when I thought about a mussed and attentive Noah who'd had a hard time keeping his hands off me. He'd held my hand out of the apartment and on the drive over to grab breakfast burritos at Tres Chicas, my favorite food truck in town. I'd gotten shy smiles and hot looks throughout the meal before he'd driven me home and kissed me senseless in the parking lot.

When the women finished making their purchases—two prints, a coffee mug, and four friendship bracelets—they stepped aside to reveal Noah waiting patiently behind them with two cups in his hands.

He took a sip of his bubble tea and held one out to me. "What's up, Louis Vuitton?"

I couldn't help the smile that came over my face. I knew it hadn't been very long since I'd seen him, and maybe I was getting ahead of myself, letting my feelings run away from me, but I was happy. And why shouldn't I let myself be?

Why did happiness need to be suppressed or measured out in careful doses? Declaring your joy to the universe didn't make it strip away any faster. I wanted to live in this moment with a guy I liked while he flirted with me and made me smile. I wasn't going to hide it just because it might not last forever.

"Hey, you," I said, feeling my cheeks strain as I accepted the drink. "You want to come sit? Watch the magic happen?"

"Oh, you know it." Noah ducked around the side of the tent and slid into the empty folding chair beside me. He pressed a quick kiss to my cheek that had me grinning before I leaned over and smacked a kiss to his lips in return.

"What have you been up to today?" I finally managed after battling the butterflies in my stomach.

"Not much. Ran with Cole and Pace at lunch and then worked on Becca's site for a bit."

"Ohhh. How's that going?"

Noah's lips closed around his straw for a moment, and I followed the movement. "It's nearly done actually. What she wanted was pretty basic as far as design and layout. She just needs me to make regular updates and maintain it, but that won't be too difficult." I nodded as if I had any idea what monitoring a website entailed. "But Becca actually recommended me to some of her clients. I have requests from several of her author friends in my inbox."

Wiggling in my seat, I couldn't help my excitement. "Noah! That's amazing!"

Even he couldn't quash his grin. Hazel eyes gleamed momentarily before he carefully tucked his excitement away. Noah was one of those people who didn't trust happiness that fell into your lap. He was waiting on the universe to snatch it away. And I didn't know how to help him enjoy it while it lasted, but maybe we'd get there . . . together.

Another idea struck me, and I wondered aloud, "Would you want to build a website for me?"

"Really?"

I nodded earnestly. "I could really use a site for DeLuLu Designs. Direct sales, a storefront, the whole nine yards. I'd pay you," I rushed to add. "Not just in blow jobs."

Noah choked on his bubble tea, and I laughed.

"Plus, I should get in on this early before you have all the clients you can handle."

He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, we can do that. Do you want to come over next week, and we'll sketch it out? Exactly what you want and how you want it to look. Find examples of sites you like and what you're looking for."

"I can do that."

A few customers wandered over, and I talked to them about my work and the town. Noah watched and listened but hung back and let me do my thing. When locals drifted by, I introduced him. He was more open and friendly than I'd ever seen him. And that gave me hope too. Maybe Noah was settling in, learning to love this town despite whatever mysterious beginning had brought him here.

After I'd bagged up a few prints and sent a cute middle-aged couple on their way with a recommendation for a dinner spot, Noah cleared his throat. "I actually stopped by because I wanted to see if you'd like to go to the Fall Festival with me next weekend. I got some tickets. Thought it might be fun. I heard there are these pumpkin hand pies you can only get there."

He was rambling, and it was adorable.

Grinning, I put him out of his misery. "I'd love to go. Thank you for inviting me."

"Cool," he muttered, making my teeth hurt with that shy smile.

"Cool," I repeated. "And I'll pick you up for a change."

Noah laughed, and the sound was music to my ears.

The Laurel Park Inn was a former bed-and-breakfast halfway up the mountain. The owners shifted focus and renovated in the nineties to turn the whole thing into a two-level restaurant. There was even porch seating on the second floor patio during the summer months.

My dad was a big fan of the restaurant. It had been his favorite for the last decade or so. The views of the Rockies were amazing and the food and drinks were pretty great, too.

I'd made sure to arrive in the reception area well ahead of Kimberly's seven o'clock reservation. Dad's gift was wrapped and tucked under my arm—a Joni Mitchell vinyl from 1974 that I'd acquired in a bidding war on an online auction site four months ago. I knew he'd like it. He and my mom had loved Joni Mitchell.

The front door opened with a gust of chilly air, and Kimberly and Ginny stepped in ahead of my father. They were all dressed nicely for the occasion. I caught the surprise on the faces of two out of three of them, but Dad smiled and gave me a hug and a hello.

I greeted my stepfamily and made sure my tone was level and friendly. It didn't matter that they'd purposely left me out of their plans for my dad's birthday dinner. I was here, and my dad was happy. That was all that mattered.

We were seated near the windows on the upper floor, and drinks were ordered. Ginny talked about her upcoming season on the slopes. She was a ski instructor and spent the majority of her time between November and April living and working at the resort. We hadn't been skiing together since Dad had taken us for a weekend during our senior year of high school—an attempt at forced bonding that obviously hadn't stuck. She'd bailed on me and gone on the more advanced runs. I remembered how skilled Ginny was compared to my less-than-graceful slide down the mountain.

She always thought it was such a waste that I wasn't interested in the sport but lived close enough to some of the best skiing in the country. It had never been my thing, though, and I was okay with that.

During our meal, I stayed quiet for the most part, nibbling on appetizers and listening to my stepmother and stepsister chat. Dad nodded along in whatever direction the conversation flowed. Eventually, after the single-serve chocolate lava cake arrived with bright sparklers, my dad asked how I was and what I'd been up to lately.

Kimberly and Ginny were still talking quietly to each other, so I felt safe mentioning that I was seeing someone.

"Well, that's nice, honey," my dad replied. "What does he do?"

"Oh, um, he's a web designer. Works remotely, but he'll probably be taking on clients in town, too."

Dad smiled. "Always nice to have someone good with technology around."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"What's that, Luanne? You finally found a boyfriend?" Ginny's sickly-sweet voice came from across the candlelit table.

I glanced around, noticing that my dad had missed the snipe implied in her questions. Kimberly ignored us in favor of her phone.

Swallowing uncomfortably, I was eager to get the attention off me. Some high school habits didn't go away. Painting a target on myself wasn't something I wanted to do with Ginny, a person who still thrived in her mean-girl era.

"It's still really new," I replied finally, reaching for my glass of wine.

"I bet it is," Ginny murmured with a cruel gleam in her eye. As if anyone who stayed long enough was sure to get tired of me or annoyed with me—whatever the implied insult was with that statement. I took a deep breath to push away the hurt.

"Well, I'd like to meet this new guy," Dad cut in, oblivious to the underlying tension that had my knee vibrating beneath the white tablecloth. "Let's have dinner at the house in a few weeks. You can invite your fella, Lu, and we'll have a nice send-off for Ginny before she leaves us for the ski season."

"Sounds great, Ben," my stepsister answered with a smile.

"Sure, Dad," I agreed without meeting her gaze.

Quickly changing the subject, I asked Dad about the school and the various fall functions keeping him busy.

The meal wrapped up shortly thereafter, and my father went on his way with Kimberly and Ginny.

I drove carefully down the mountain back toward town. They'd gotten some snow up in the higher elevations recently. My thoughts ran over our conversation this evening and how it had been mostly fine—typical. At least Dad hadn't brought up interviewing for the elementary art teacher position again or my hobby of a career.

Nothing had been greatly altered because of my presence. I'd forced myself onto the guest list, unwanted and unwelcome. And now that I was stewing in my emotions, I wondered why I'd even bothered. I could have just caught up with Dad at the house or invited him for lunch to give him his present and celebrate his birthday that way.

I didn't know why it had been so important for me to be there at the restaurant tonight.

Maybe because I knew that if I hadn't bothered, the occasion would have passed by with only their three-person family unit to acknowledge it. Maybe I desperately wanted to be included. And maybe I didn't understand why everything had to be so damn hard.

Why do you bend over backward for people who don't care about you?

That voice in my head sounded suspiciously like Noah as I stared out the Jeep's windshield.

I remembered his words from the night we'd met.

"The effort of maintaining a relationship should go both ways and be equal. Not one person killing themselves to keep it all together."

He hadn't planted the seed of dissent within me, but he'd made me aware of it. And I could probably guess what he'd have to say about dinner tonight and the circumstances surrounding it.

But that was Noah, waiting for happiness to be dragged away from him and always questioning motivations. He didn't trust easily. And he'd talked about his own parents like they were acquaintances.

My dad was still my dad. I loved him, and he loved me. Writing him off wasn't something I was capable of doing, so I would just keep trying. And besides, he'd wanted to plan another dinner. He was interested in my life and wanted to meet Noah. That was progress—proof that my efforts weren't all one-sided.

Okay, yes. Maybe with Kimberly and Ginny they were. I'd been trying for years to make things less awkward and more than just cordial. Family was important. You didn't just give up on it. Not when you barely had anyone left to call family. Not when cutting someone out of your life meant you were the one left holding the cord. I'd just have to try harder.

Ignoring the uneasy ache in the pit of my stomach, I noticed the lights of Cozy Creek in the distance. Checking the time on the dashboard, I hit the button to call Noah.

"Hey there, Loofah," he said, and I smiled, something tight within going a little bit looser.

"Hey. You busy?"

"Nope. What's up?" I could hear road noise in the background and imagined Noah driving around downtown in the Bronco, waiting for a ride request to come in.

I didn't think about why I wanted comfort or to have someone cheer me up. Or why Noah's number was the one I'd dialed. I just let myself ask, "You want to meet me at Dottie's?"

His turn signal sounded through the tiny speaker, and I fought the urge to tear up as he changed direction before he even answered.

"Okay, but I get to pick the flavors."

"Deal," I replied quickly, voice a little choked.

A beat passed before Noah said softly, "You okay, Lu?"

"Yep!" My tone was overly bright, and I knew he heard it. "I'm five minutes away. I'll see you soon."

"I'll be there."

Our call disconnected, and I got myself under control. I didn't even know why I was emotional all of a sudden. But the urge to cry again rose swift and unwelcome the minute I walked into Dottie's five minutes later.

Noah stood by the counter, hands in the pockets of his jeans and a navy-blue hoodie covering his upper half. He smiled as I walked straight into him, my arms closing around his waist, clutching him tight as I fought the burning behind my eyes and the lump growing in my throat.