Chapter 4 Cole

"Oh my goodness, you silly thing, it might as well have been a paper cut."

I gape at my grandma. "Nan!"

"What? I was in the middle of talkin' to Beth, y'know, the real Strong matriarch, Nadine's mother-in-law, she's in town for some kind of somethin'-‘r-other, and she was inches from givin' me her sugar raisin spice muffin recipe, when I get the news that my own dear grandson was in critical condition down at the clinic. Critical condition my ass! I left you alone for five seconds."

I peer down at my forearm. The entirety of it is swallowed in bandages. I guess when I arrived, my arm looked a lot worse than it was. Once the blood was washed off, it was just a matter of some skin getting scraped up from landing so roughly on the pavement. "Good thing ya did what ya did," Dr. Emory had said, "otherwise I might be treatin' that other guy for a concussion—or worse."

The notion sent me into a what-if spiral of imagining far less favorable outcomes of today's events.

I don't care if I just embarrassed the crap out of myself in front of the whole town by fainting the way I did. I'd do it all over again if I had to.

I'm just glad Noah Reed's okay.

"They're callin' you a hero," says my Nan, stirring me from my thoughts. "Isn't that somethin'?"

I smirk. "A hero with a paper cut, apparently. What were you doing with Beth? I thought you'd gone off to talk to Dorothy."

"I did. Then I found Beth. I hardly get out of the house lately, I had a lot of social business to attend to."

The pair of us are slowly walking home from the festival arm-in-arm, figuring we can come back tomorrow, too, since the event goes on all weekend. Our street is quiet, the noise and murmur of the festival far away now. I find myself glancing back as we walk, despite not being able to see a lick of the festival from here. I had wanted to catch up with Noah, to see if he's okay, to maybe have a drink with him, buy him some lunch, anything, just for an excuse to talk to him. Someone directed me to Biggie's Bites, saying they saw him there with a few people from the newspaper, but by the time I was out of the clinic, they must've left. I ended up offering to help Martha and her husband (and moody son) clean up the fallen picture frames, just to loiter around the scene with the off-chance that I might spot Noah again, but there was no luck. Also, Martha insisted that I not help, considering my "mummy-wrapped arm", and demanded that I go someplace to rest. That someplace ended up being back home, my Nan decided on my behalf.

"I remember little Noah."

That stops me in my tracks. "What?"

"The boy whose life you allegedly saved today. I remember."

"Really? What do you remember?"

"Everything. Why'd you stop? Go, go." She tugs on my arm. It is my good arm she's hooked on to, by the way. We resume our way down the street as she talks. "I remember your mother was close friends with his mother. They went to each other's houses all the time, dragged you poor kids along with them. You and little Noah didn't know what to do with yourselves. And the moms would just talk and talk and talk all afternoon. I'd be in the kitchen hearing their banter—whenever they were at our house, of course. They had so much in common back then. One thing being griping about their husbands." She lets out a tiny laugh. "But they never griped about their sons. That was their joint happiness—you and Noah. They sure do love their boys." Then she frowns. "Too bad about the falling out between them."

I stop again. "Falling out?"

"Goodness, Cole, keep movin' your feet, you're gonna give me whiplash. Yes, falling out."

"Wait, what happened? I didn't know they had a falling out."

"I didn't either, ‘til one day I realized it'd been a week since they had one of their little day drinkin' sessions, then I asked your mother if Deidra was out of town or somethin', and boy, the look my sweet daughter-in-law gave me could've melted glass."

I blink, astonished. "I can't believe I never knew this."

"To this day, still don't know who was in the wrong or what happened between them, but they don't speak anymore, and they would be damned to cross paths. I do hate how that happens," she says with a long sigh. "From best friends to strangers overnight."

"That makes me so sad, Nan."

"Me too. Best not to dwell on it. Onward, upward."

We reach the house, first one on the corner with the big oak tree and tire swing hanging from it. I make a mental note to clean up the front flowerbed, as the mulch looks like it's been blown all over the place and some weeds are starting to pop up. Nan and I pass through the side gate to the back door of the house, which is how everyone here comes and goes. Only visitors, strangers, and solicitors use the actual front door. Also, there's a small garden outside by the dining room bay window that my dad and grandma tend to full of fresh vegetables they grow—a little mother-son project they began about five or six years ago, back when I was still in school. My dad tried getting me involved once, but I clearly do not share the green thumbs they possess.

The moment we step inside, my dog Porridge is happily upon me. I crouch down to let her lick me as I give her an enthusiastic rubbing. When I look up, I find my mom sitting at the dining room table with a glass of wine in front of her. Correction: an emptied glass of wine, only a trace left at the bottom.

She looks up at me as if gazing through a fog. "Hi, guys," she greets us mildly, eyes half-closed. "How'd the festival go?"

"Oh, nothin' much happened," answers my grandma as she sits down at a bench by the back door to take off her shoes. "I got myself a halter dress. Cole saved a young man's life."

My mom nods. "That sounds nice." She gazes out the window.

Nan grunts as she removes a shoe. "Lauren, sweetheart, I was bein' serious about the savin'-a-young-man part."

My mom turns back to us, confused. "Saving what?"

I come up to the table. "It's alright, Mom. How was your day?" I glance at the glass. "Did you … wanna check out the festival, too? It'll still be going on tomorrow. Heck, there's still time today."

"Maybe."

Grandma continues to take off her shoes, appearing to have no patience for my mom's mood today.

I put my hand on my mom's, giving it a squeeze. "You wanna go for a bit? Get out of the house? Apricot Street wasn't quite as crowded and chaotic as Main Street. We can even take Porridge with us. I'm sure she'd love that."

Just at the mention of her name, Porridge rushes right up to my side, panting away.

My mom rubs at a spot on her forehead. "Maybe," she repeats, then rises from the table with a sigh and moves to the kitchen. Porridge follows her, tongue dangling, curious, but my mom pays her as much mind as a gnat.

When I glance back at my grandma, I find her having changed to her gardening shoes. "I'll be out back," she tells me sweetly, but her eyes are on my mom with disapproval. She lets out a sigh of her own as she returns to the back door. "Porridge! Here, girl! You been outside today, girl? Cooped up? Someone been ignorin' your needs? Over here, girl." Still panting and as happy as a dog can possibly be, she rushes to the door and follows my Nan out to the garden. The door closes softly behind her.

I find my mom leaning against the kitchen counter, squinting down at a calendar she pulled off the wall. I have no idea what she is looking up or marking down, but she has a pen in her hand and casually taps it on her chin.

"Want to talk about anything, Mom?" I ask cheerily, fishing. "Seems like you've got something on your mind, maybe? I've got a couple of ears I can put to use."

"Can't for the life of me remember …" she mutters in thought.

She's in her own world right now. "Is it about Dad?" I ask.

"What was that thing …?" she continues mumbling to herself as she surveys the calendar. "Just thinking about it earlier …"

"Dad just started his second job last week, right? You feeling lonely? Wait … is it his third?"

"Your Nan said something about you saving someone's life?" she asks, still tapping her chin with the pen.

I latch on to my mom's question at once. Any sign at all of her paying attention is good. "Yeah. It all happened very fast. I was … well, there was this stack of, uh, picture frames, very tall stack …" I feel like I'm already losing her. "Anyway, I pushed a guy out of the way. Y'know, so the stack didn't fall on him. Maybe ‘saved his life' is a bit overdramatic." I chuckle to myself. "You wouldn't believe who it was, either, of all people … Noah Reed."

Her pen tapping stops.

She turns to me, surprised. "The Reed boy, did you say?"

"Yep, the one and only. Noah. Remember him?"

That's when her glassy, half-opened eyes drop to my arm, just now noticing. "Oh, honey, what happened?"

"Just a little booboo from the incident, no big deal." I put on a smile. "Hey, your son's a hero! How cool is that?"

"It looks really bad. That's a lot of … bandage." She touches it. I try not to grimace too much; the wound is still sensitive. Her eyes fill up with tears. "Oh, I'm so sorry you hurt yourself, baby. You … You should be more careful. It's so dangerous out there."

"It looks a lot worse than it is."

"And you got this by …" She stares at my arm. "Noah Reed …"

I take hold of her hands now that I have her attention. "Want to go to the festival? Just for a little bit? I think it'll be a lot of—"

My phone rings out from my pocket, startling us both.

As if in response, my mom pulls her hands from my grip. "You better get that," she says. "Could be important."

"Sure," I say over my ringing phone, "but do you want to go to the festival after I take this? You look fine the way you are. You can go just like that. Just pop on some shoes and—"

"Better get that," she repeats, nodding at my phone.

I suppress a sigh of frustration. I'm so close to getting her out of the house. But I go ahead and oblige her, pulling my phone out of my pocket and giving it a look.

To my surprise, it's Nadine Strong.

This may not be a good thing.

The last time she called me was this past December, and it was to set me up on a blind date. She had the "perfect young man" she was dying for me to meet. Obviously, it did not work out. Though I might say I did get two new friends out of the whole debacle, one of whom happens to be a vet tech who was partly responsible for saving my dog Porridge's life many years ago.

I look up from my phone to tell my mom, "It's Mayor Strong," but find her already gone. I hear the distant sound of her bedroom door shutting. I don't suspect she went in there to change for the festival; I think she's hiding from me and my pesky optimism.

I frown, disappointed, then quickly change my tune and bring the phone to my ear. "Hey there, Nadine!"

"Cole, ya crazy daredevil, I just heard everything. Are you alright?"

She insisted once that we never dare use formalities with each other and always stay on a first-name basis. "Aww, thanks for your concern, but I'm just fine, really."

"You just ‘bout found yourself under a heap of carpentry, ain't none of that sounds ‘just fine' to me. How's the reporter fella? The one who almost got buried? His name escapes me."

I peer out the window nearby, spotting my Nan in the garden, Porridge frolicking around in the yard behind her. "Noah Reed," I tell her.

"Noah, right, I was way off. Why'd I think it was Marty …?"

"I think he's okay. I haven't actually, uh, been able to see him since the incident."

"Well, I'm sure he's lovely and thankful for havin' his life and limbs, good for him. Hey, listen, baby, I've got an idea, a crazy idea, and I wanted to run it past you."

"An idea?"

"Yep, crazy one. I already got approval from the mayor." She makes a snorting sound. "Get it? ‘Cause the mayor's me? Gosh, I'll never get used to sayin' that. Anyway, you got plans tonight? How ‘bout you come on over ‘round eight? I'm havin' a few friends stop by for finger foods and I want to talk to you about my crazy idea."

I blink. "Oh. Tonight as in … tonight-tonight?"

"What other kind of tonight is there, babe? Don't gotta bring nothin' but your cute, perfect tush. And also, as mayor, I officially declare you ain't allowed to say ‘no' to me, not ever."

"Nadine …"

"That's Mayor Nadine to you." She chuckles. "Well, just for the purposes of this call. Gotta exert my authority when it's necessary. Now will I see you tonight on my doorstep at eight? This is a test."

I take a breath. "Yes. I'll be there."

"Good. Come hungry. But not too hungry. Did I mention the finger foods part? See you then!" She hangs up.

I pocket my phone, then stare down at the calendar my mom left here on the kitchen counter. Circled on next Tuesday is my parents' anniversary. I wonder if that's what she was looking for.

Not that they've had much to celebrate for a while. The two of them hardly ever see each other. My dad's always at work, busying himself with more jobs than he can juggle. My mom goes through wine like Kleenex and seems interested in doing nothing. This is the side of my family no one sees. This is the part of my life no one knows: the harsh reality of the Harding family and its ever-so-tentative existence.

I wonder if Noah's mom knew anything about this. After all, what else did the women talk about during all of those afternoons when Noah and I sat in our backyards pretending to play?

I stand outside my mom's bedroom door. "You okay? Mom?" I give the door a gentle knock, then poke my head in. She's lying on the bed with the TV on, a game show playing. The sound of the cheerful host and applause contrasts strangely with my mother's melancholy. "Sounds like I've been invited over to the Strongs' for a little thing tonight. Nadine wanted to run some kind of idea past me. No idea what it is. Want to come? I'm sure she wouldn't mind. We can also still go down to the festival right now if you wanted."

My mom rolls onto her back and offers me a sleepy-looking smile. "That sounds nice. Have a fun time, alright? I've got plans of my own tonight with … with a …" She wipes a hand over her face, rubs her eyes. "… a friend," she finishes blandly. "Can you tell Nan I ordered the, um, thing she wanted? For her garden?"

I don't think she has any plans with any friend. But I smile at her anyway and nod. "Sure thing, Mom."

"Look after that arm. Please. You have to be more careful."

"I will."

"Don't be reckless like your dad. Being a big hero is nice and all, but at what cost?" Her attention is pulled back to the TV when the audience cheers at something. She rolls over to watch it, her eyes listless and far away, but momentarily sparked with interest. Maybe it's the joy in watching others win prizes. Maybe she likes to imagine she's one of them, walking onto the big stage to guess a number, or pick a door, or toss a ball at a target, winning the top prize and earning the audience's roaring cheers.

I come up to the bed and kiss her on the forehead. "Love you, Mom." She gives me a tiny smile and squeezes my hand with little strength, her eyes glued to the TV. I leave her door a crack open when I go, lingering for a moment before finally leaving her be.

It's exactly eight on the dot when I've made the drive out to the farmlands and pull up to the front of the Strong residence. The sun has long since set to allow the stars to shine brightly out here in the Spruce, Texas countryside. At this time of night, the Strong ranch glows from the inside with warm light spilling out from its gaping windows. I'm greeted at the front door by Nadine herself, a slender yet busty woman with larger-than-life hair and big hoop earrings, radiating with energy that could combat a power plant. She howls upon seeing me and ushers me right in, where I'm met by her husband Paul, a quiet yet sociable man with bright eyes, as well as her older son Tanner and his husband Billy. The former-football-player-turned-high-school-coach Tanner and his sweet-eyed professional business-owner dessert-chef husband Billy are the staple couple in town. They're as handsome as can be, wearing matching jeans and red flannel shirts, though Billy's is orange in hue. In the living room sit their two sons Marcus and Joshua, who appear to be content playing Xbox on the enormous living room TV. The adults are gathered in the kitchen and dining room area, where all of the promised finger foods are on display. I had put on a light denim jacket before leaving the house so as to keep my unsightly bandages out of sight. I guess it does the trick, as I'm mercifully not asked once about my arm.

While Nadine busies herself in the kitchen with her friend and housekeeper Jacky-Ann, and Paul keeps the kids company asking questions about their game while sitting in an armchair behind them, I spend some time with Tanner and Billy by the food table.

"Does anyone here know what Nadine's up to?" asks Billy with a shrug as he chomps a bite off a pig-in-a-blanket. Then his eyes flash. "Damn, these are good. Did you try these, babe?"

"I got here first with the boys, of course I tried them," Tanner says with a laugh. "Tried every dang thing on the table. Dodge the jalape?o poppers at the end though, Cole, unless you want to burn a hole through your toilet when you get home." That earns him a firm smack on the arm from Billy. "Hey, just bein' honest!"

Billy turns his back on his husband. "Ignore him, Cole. By the way, I heard what happened at the festival. I mean, obviously," he adds with half a chuckle. "Everyone's heard. But I just wanted to say, as someone who has been put through the infamous rumor mill of Spruce, if you ever need to just get away from it all, I hope you know by now that this is a safe place you can come to. Tanner and I live just down the path, too, right here on the property, out by a small body of water we reluctantly refer to as a lake."

"More like a big pond," mumbles Tanner through a mouthful of potato chips. "The Tucker-Strong Pond."

"Our modest abode is newly renovated," Billy goes on, "to accommodate the kids. And now with Jimmy and Bobby married, we rarely have visitors anymore, other than the occasional drop-in from Mindy needin' a break from Joel and the twins."

"You mean Joel and the monsters," says Tanner.

Billy sighs. "Their kids aren't that bad."

"Yeah, they are. Little monsters in their terrible twos."

"Tanner …"

"I'm serious. One of them bit our Marcus on the foot ‘cause he wouldn't let them touch his laptop. Mindy and Joel are raising a pair of wild Chihuahuas, not human babies."

I stifle a laugh. "Well, regardless of what your friend is raising, I truly appreciate the offer to get away. But I'm not too worried. I know these things blow over fast."

"They do," assures Billy with a smile.

"Sorry," grunts Tanner, lifting a hand. "If you ever wondered where your boss gets his sass from, it isn't my mama. It's entirely and unapologetically from me."

Jimmy, one of my two bosses, is Tanner's younger brother. He is, to be fair, quite sassy. Thinking of him makes me smile. "I enjoy working under the pair of them—your brother Jimmy and his man Bobby. They make great bosses and sure know what they're doing with the Strong Fitness Zone. They had a vision and achieved it."

Tanner smiles. "You sound like you admire them."

"I sure do. And for quite a while. You remember when Jimmy asked Bobby out to prom back in high school? And in front of the whole soccer team? Well, I was a freshman when that happened, and I gotta say, it changed me in a pretty fundamental way, seeing someone be so brave like that. It set a fire inside me. Since that day, I swore I'd be true to myself."

"Well, damn." Tanner shakes his head. "Makin' me choke up, talkin' about my little bro and his guy like that."

"It's just the truth." I smile. "I'm proud to work for the two of them. I was proud to sit there and watch them walk the aisle, too. They make a great team, and they give hope to me that someday, I will have a special guy by my side."

Billy and Tanner seem caught in a trance after my spiel, both of them staring at me with glassy, empty eyes.

It catches me off-guard. "Oh. Did I … go on a bit too long about them? Sorry. I got kinda sappy there, huh?"

Tanner snaps out of it first. "Nah, that was great. And y'know what? You're right. Jimmy and Bobby, they … they make a great-ass team."

"The greatest of them all," agrees Billy, staring off somewhere with an odd, faraway look in his eyes. Tanner puts his arm around his husband, then kisses him on the cheek. Billy smiles, though it seems distracted, and when the kids suddenly break into shouts at the TV screen over their game, Billy's attention is pulled. "Hey, it's just a game, it's just a game, boys, calm down." He excuses himself and heads to the living room.

While Tanner keeps eating, I notice him watching his husband with a hazy look on his face, like his mind is somewhere else. I'm not sure if it's because of my experience with my own parents and how the two "speak with their eyes and not their mouths", but I sense something's going on. Tanner and Billy are supposed to be Spruce's power pair. The example for everyone else in town. The perfect couple to aspire to.

But I can't shake the feeling that something is off.

There's a knock at the door.

"Oh, that's our final guest we're waitin' on," calls out Nadine. "Hey, can someone be a doll and let them in?"

Seeing as I'm closest to the door, I respond. "Got it, Nadine!" I head toward the door.

Before I can even reach it, it swings right open on its own, and in struts a familiar face in a plaid buttoned shirt and jeans. I think he sings in the church choir. "Hey, Tan!" he calls out, marching right past me over to Tanner. I turn, watching. "Hi, Mrs. Strong! Oh, gimme some hugs! It's been forever since I've been here!"

Nadine's response is a touch less warm. "Yes, alright, Burton, darlin', it's nice to see you, too. I think we're about ready to get down to business. Now did you bring your team with you?"

"What team? Just kiddin'. Yeah, should be right behind me."

The sound of shoes scuffling draws my attention back to the front door, where I see the effervescent face of Tamika coming in, wearing a pretty purple sundress with matching earrings. Her eyes find me first. "Oh, hi, Cole!" she sings. "I didn't know you'd be here, too!" Then she peers back over her shoulder. "Hey, are you coming in?"

The scuffling of shoes I heard wasn't hers. It was the shy cutie behind her—Noah, wearing a white polo shirt and khakis, with his hair parted, cheeks rosy, and sweet small eyes affixed to mine.