Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
Nick
" H ow many more steps?" Noelle wonders aloud as we pass through the second-floor choir loft and take a shorter set of stairs to a small hallway.
"It can't be much further." I hope so, at least. The air up here is hot and stuffy.
At the end of the narrow corridor, there's a door set in the wall. Noelle opens it and pokes her head inside. From behind her, I can see a ladder to the next level.
She groans, and I give her a reminder. "It's better to keep moving. We don't want to be up there when the bell rings again."
She steps aside and ushers me forward. "Lead the way."
"Why do I feel like this is a ploy so you can look at my butt? "
"Because it is." She giggles.
I'm glad to see her laughing. She was so distressed when she sat me down on the bench. I couldn't imagine what she wanted to tell me. Definitely did not see ‘your wife was trying to set us up from her deathbed' coming.
But, in retrospect, that's how Carol was. She probably saw something Noelle and I didn't. She was insightful that way. And she wasn't one to sit by and leave anything to chance—not when it came to the people she loved.
And she was right, wasn't she?
That kiss. That kiss. It wasn't just a kiss. The salty-sweet taste of her mouth, the soft curves of her body, her quiet sighs of pleasure—all of it familiar and new at the same time. Kissing Noelle was a homecoming and a revelation. And I want to get back to it as soon as humanly possible.
As if to taunt me, when I reach the top of the ladder and poke my head through the opening, I spot yet another ladder mounted on the opposite wall. "Frost me," I grumble as I pull myself up and turn around to offer Noelle a hand.
This level has small half-windows set low in the front wall. But we don't stop to admire the view. We clamber up the second ladder and finally reach the actual bell tower. This level is open, and the breeze is a welcome addition. Noelle boosts herself to her feet and stands beside me, lifting her tangle of copper-colored hair off her nape. I consider dropping a kiss on the smooth skin on the back of her neck.
But before I can engage in any delightful distractions, she pulls out the clue and frowns at it, then looks up at me all business.
"Tell me again. What does this Zuzu character say? "
I take a moment to replay the scene in my mind. The movie was one of Carol's favorites, so I've seen it dozens of times. But invariably one or more of the Jolly women is crying by the end, so sometimes Zuzu's line is drowned out by sobs or sniffles.
"She says, ‘Teacher says every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.' That's the exact line of dialogue."
We both eye the bell. She tilts her head, thinking. "The clapper is the part that strikes the bell, right?"
"Right."
"So, that's what makes it ring."
She sticks her head inside the bell. So she's one of those. There are two kinds of people in this world—people who think nothing of sticking their hand down a garbage disposal to fish out an errant fork and people who turn off the power to the unit and flip the breaker for good measure before they retrieve the fork. I'm in the latter group, and she's making me antsy.
"Hurry up before you get your bell rung," I urge.
She laughs, and the sound echoes from inside the bell. But I'm not kidding. I'm just about to yank her out of there by force, when she ducks under the bell's rim and pops up beside me, waving a small envelope in triumph.
"It was attached to the swinging arm part."
"The axle?"
"Sure, why not?"
This envelope is labeled Final Clue . She tears it open and scans the note, her eyes racing over the words, and then passes it to me.
I read the typed phrase aloud, "‘No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused.' That doesn't sound like a clue, but it does sound familiar."
"It's a quote from Dickens' A Christmas Carol ."
I hand it back to her. "I don't get it. It's labeled a clue, but how do we use it."
"Let's go get the map. Maybe it'll give us an idea."
We descend both ladders and both flights of stairs in silence. When we reach the narthex, she plops down on the bench.
"I thought you wanted to get the map."
"Shh, I'm thinking."
While she thinks, I study her face. I see the girl I loved in college in the curve of her cheek and the lift of her brow, and, of course, the glittering green of her eyes. But there's a new-to-me woman hidden under the smattering of freckles, too. I can't wait to get to know her.
"Hello? Earth to Nick. Did you hear me?" She's waving her hand in front of my face.
"Sorry, no I didn't. I was thinking about how gorgeous you are."
She turns pink. "Oh. That's an excellent excuse for tuning me out. Well done."
I laugh. "Can you repeat what you said?"
"Sure. Try not to be so dazzled by my beauty that you zone out again."
"I can't make any promises, but I'll try."
"What I said was the quote is from the beginning of the book, when Scrooge is visited by the ghost of his old business partner." She pauses meaningfully. "A guy named Jacob Marley. "
"Huh, that's funny. Our family attorney is Marley Jacobs."
She nods. "I know. And her office is next door. That can't be a coincidence."
We race outside and across the alley to the Law Offices of Marley Jacobs. I scan the street for men in hats and sunglasses during the fifteen-second walk, but see no one.
As soon as we step inside the legal offices, I realize we have no plan.
Noelle looks around the minimalist waiting room. "There's no receptionist?"
I shake my head. "It's a paperless office. And I guess greeter-less, too. We always signed in on that tablet." I point out a tablet in a stand on a small white table. "But we always had an appointment."
"Well, if we guessed the clue correctly, she'll be expecting us—or me, at least." She shrugs and types her name in the box on the screen. Then she turns and tosses me a cellophane-wrapped chocolate peppermint candy from the bowl on the stand. "These are Merry's, right?"
"Yep." I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth, realizing it's the first thing I've eaten since the frittata at breakfast. "Do you want to grab an early dinner after this?"
She glances at the clock on the wall. "Sure."
We haven't even settled on the couch yet when the door to Marley's office opens, and she appears in the doorway. "Noelle?"
"Yes. "
I'm about to insert myself into the conversation and explain our unusual request, but Marley turns her attention from Noelle to me and says, "Oh good, you came, too. You saved me a phone call. Come on back."
Noelle and I exchange a baffled look.
"Both of us?" she asks.
"Both of you," Marley tells her, holding the door open wide.
I follow Noelle through the open door, and Marley ushers us into her small conference room and tells us to make ourselves comfortable. We take seats at the same glass conference table where Carol and I signed our wills. I bounce my knee, uneasy and off-kilter.
A moment letter, Marley returns. She's holding a large rectangular box. Two thick envelopes rests on the lid. She deposits the box on the table directly in front of Noelle. Then she takes one of the two envelopes from the top and hands it to me. My name is printed on the front of it.
"Take as long as you need. I'd say if you have any questions, let me know. But the truth is, I don't know anything. I was asked to hold these items by a client."
"Can you tell us who the client is?" I ask, knowing it's a long shot.
"I suspect you'll be able to figure it out." Without further explanation, she steps out into the hall and pulls the door shut behind her.
After a long moment, Noelle clears her throat. "So, how should we do this? Open the envelopes at the same time? Take turns? "
"This is your scavenger hunt. You go first. Want to read them aloud?"
"Okay."
She rips the corner of the envelope's flap, slides her fingernail underneath, and tears it open. She removes a sheet of stationery. Unlike the clues, the letter is handwritten, not typed. She reads a few lines, then refolds it, and raises her eyes to meet mine.
"It's from Carol."
I'm speechless. I stare at the envelope in my hands. I'm holding a letter from my dead wife. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. I don't know how I do feel.
After a beat, Noelle continues, "I don't think we should read these to each other. I'm sure yours will be very private."
I nod wordlessly and keep staring.
"Do you want me to open it for you?" she asks gently.
The question snaps me out of my frozen state. "No, thanks. I've got it."
"Okay." She reopens her letter and resumes reading.
I exhale and tear the envelope open like I'm a Neanderthal, tossing it on the table. The letter is written on a single page of thick paper in Carol's familiar looping script. I read it slowly, hearing her voice in my head as I do.
Darling Nick,
If all's gone according to plan, although I wrote this in August after I entered hospice, you're reading it in July, and I'm dead. Have been for a while. Oh, that hurts to write, so I can only imagine how much it hurts to live through .
When we learned I was dying, we agreed to leave nothing unsaid. It was important to me that you, Holly, Ivy, and Merry knew my heart and understood how much I love you all before I was gone. The conversations you and I are having now are, strangely, some of my favorites. There's something crystalizing about knowing you're dying, I suppose.
I kept one thing from you, though. I'm sorry.
I didn't think you were ready to hear it then. I hope you are now. When I told you I hoped you'd find a new partner one day, someone to share the rest of your life with, I meant it. But I actually have someone in mind for you: Noelle.
I know both of you better than anyone else on this planet, and I know in my cancerous bones that you'll be good together. Not better than you and me, because we were pretty dang amazing. But good in a different way, a beautiful way. I could lay out all the reasons you two belong together, but won't it be more fun to figure it out yourself?
Now if you've already met someone, this is awkward. Also, wow, didn't let the grass grow underfoot, huh? Just kidding. If you have met someone or you think I'm wrong, ignore me. It's not like I can do anything to convince you. Unless I decide to haunt you, I guess.
Where was I? Oh, right. I know I'm right about you and Noelle. Not because you had a short relationship more than a quarter century ago, but because of the people you both are now. You're my two favorite humans (who I did not give birth to) and I hate to leave you behind. But if you take care of each other, I'll feel better about it.
By the way, I tried to talk to Noelle about this and she freaked out. That's when I got the idea to create a scavenger hunt for her. My hope is she found her way to the truth along with the clues. And I hope you have, too.
You have to live for both of us now, Nick. And I want you to love.
Always yours, that'll never change,
Carol
P.S.—Please thank Griselda. She did all the legwork for me because I couldn't exactly run all over town.
I close the letter and try to swallow around the lump in my throat. Across the table, tears run down Noelle's cheeks.