Chapter Seventeen
Noah slipped out the side door of First, stealthily avoiding the group of staffers waiting to grab a booth and start drinking with Paige. Today had been her last day. They’d studiously ignored each other for the last fortnight —sticking to polite hellos and good-byes, avoiding eye contact and generally acting like each other didn’t exist. Talk about awkward as fuck. But there was a very real risk of him begging for another chance if he dared open his mouth—and thankfully, his head managed to keep control of his heart.
Her tinkling laughter haunted him as he escaped out into the alley, his feet pounding the pavement as quickly as possible in the hopes that he might be able to outrun his doubts.
Maybe he should have given them a chance. Maybe he was the one who was setting them up for failure by ensuring it from the outset. He remembered the stark look of dejection on her face that day as he’d kicked her out of his apartment. The haunted look in her eyes that said she knew the end was coming.
No, he’d done the right thing. The disappointment would sting, but she’d forget him and move on. The longer he dragged things out, the harder it would have been on them both.
By the time he’d made it back to his apartment, he’d almost convinced himself that he was happier without her. Almost.
Amanda flung his door open before he’d even made it up the hallway. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
“I’m sure letting the whole building know that will really help,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Since when did his little sister care about being on time?
Amanda was the perpetually late one—always sleeping in and missing her alarm. He used to drag her out of bed each morning with only minutes to spare before they needed to catch the bus to school. But now she looked…eager.
“I had to make sure everything was ready for Des. He’s back tomorrow.” Noah set down the box of sauces and homemade pastries that Paul had bought in to share from his mother’s kitchen. “Besides, I’m sure Bob and Marie won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late.”
“I know. But I want to be on time.” She wrung her hands in front of her. “This is a big deal, you know.”
She didn’t have to elaborate. The girl had been through a lot—he knew her past was checkered with substance abuse, both for herself and for her biological parents. She’d rebelled after finding out that her mother had passed away two years ago, which had triggered a downward spiral. Yet he believed her when she said she was turning her life around. She was still skittish, still jaded. But there was a bounce in her step, an excited energy that he hadn’t seen in years.
“Come here.” He opened his arms, and she accepted his hug with a wary expression. “You keep making improvements, okay? Don’t worry about what anyone else says.”
“You mean don’t worry about what Megan says.” She sighed. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s…” He searched for the right word. “Rigid. But she’ll come around. You’re doing the right thing.”
“I thought you’d never forgive me,” she said, swallowing. “I was really desperate then.”
“What did you use the money for?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Amanda had been staying with him after finishing her second stint in rehab. He’d tried so damned hard to keep her busy, to keep her safe. Then he’d woken up one morning to find her—and her meager possessions—gone. Along with his money.
He’d called and called and called, not caring about the lost cash or her deception. All he wanted was for her to not be in some alley buying drugs. He’d been sick with the thought of her undoing all her progress, yet again. He’d failed to help her when they were kids, and he’d failed her again.
“I wanted to get high,” she said, curling into herself. Her face was buried against his chest, her arms tucked up between them. “But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
“I was so ashamed.” Her voice caught. “Out of everyone, you were the only person who kept saying ‘you can do it.’ That’s why I was so mad when you left. I thought we were a team.”
“We are a team.” He stroked her hair.
“It was different after you were gone, you know. After they caught Anthony dealing…” She swallowed. “Well, they shipped us both off to rehab. I know they tried calling you to say sorry…to say that you were right all along.”
But he’d never taken their calls. Not once. Noah’s chest clenched.
“Can’t you come tonight? It would make it so much easier if I had you there,” she pleaded.
Was everyone conspiring to make him feel like a bastard today? “You know I can’t.”
“I know you won’t,” she said with a sigh. “Ginnie said she wants you there. I know Megan would. And Bob and Marie—”
“They’re not my parents,” he said. “They’re not my family anymore.”
“You don’t stop being a family because things aren’t all hunky-dory, right? You told me that once.” She jabbed him in the chest. “And you said that we’re still family even though you left and I did some terrible things. So why is it different with them?”
Because they were supposed to believe in him.
It was bad enough that his own mother had left him behind and her family chose to let him go into the system. He had real grandparents and real aunts and uncles and real cousins out there. Somewhere. But they didn’t want him. They’d let him bounce around from family to family, only ever feeling settled when he’d landed with Bob and Marie and the girls. He’d believed, for the first time in his young, complicated life, that maybe he could be part of a family unit.
But he’d been wrong then, too.
Their rejection had stung the most because he’d gone against his beliefs to feed that little seed of hope in his chest. With them, he’d wanted it so fucking bad.
“It just is,” he said. “Come on. We’re running late.”
Noah’s stomach roiled as he turned onto the street he’d called home for seven years of his life. He hadn’t been back since the day he walked out. It was disturbingly unchanged. The house on the corner still had the overgrown bottlebrush shrub with the red flowers that reminded him of pot scrubbers. Two houses down from that still had the collection of tacky garden gnomes in the front yard.
“Looks like the gnomes have been busy,” he said. “They’ve multiplied.”
“Where the hell do they find those ugly things?” Amanda shook her head. “You know I ‘borrowed’ one once.”
“Borrowed?” Noah raised his brow.
“Yeah, I gave it back…eventually.” She grinned. “Not before I sent them a ransom note made out of letters I cut from Marie’s newspaper.”
“That was you?” He threw his head back and laughed. “You know that kid down the street took the rap for it. They were convinced he’d done it.”
His smile dissolved as they pulled up to his former foster parents’ house. Bob had given the place a new coat of paint—revived the previously robin’s-egg blue weatherboards to a more modern-looking cream. The garden was still the same, as was the letterbox that resembled a birdhouse.
The car rolled to a stop, but he didn’t dare turn the engine off. His chest was heavy, as though his heart had been replaced by rocks. It took him by surprise. He thought he’d done a better job at burying all those old, ugly emotions.
“You’re not even going to turn the car off for one second?” Amanda shook her head. “Come in and say hello. You don’t have to stay long.”
“Amanda, we talked—”
“Please.” She reached out and interlaced her fingers with his. “I don’t want to go in there alone.”
For a moment he could have sworn that they were kids again, and she was curled up on the couch next to him. She hadn’t interacted much with anyone for the first year, but she’d gravitated toward him for some reason. God only knew why. If anyone in the house was ever looking for Amanda, the first place they’d check was Noah’s side.
“Please.” She squeezed his hand, and he felt it all the way deep in his chest. “You don’t have to stay, just walk me inside.”
A memory socked him in the chest—Amanda sobbing on his bed as he’d packed his bags. Her large brown eyes had been red and raw, her voice all scratched up and worn out from pleading with him not to go.
“Fine,” he said, shutting off the engine as he swallowed against the lump in his throat. “I’ll walk you in, but then I’m going.”
She released his hand, shoving the car door open before he could change his mind. The summer air was warm on his skin as he stepped out onto the nature strip, the grass spongy beneath his feet. The scent of jasmine hit his nose from the front garden, pushing the past to the front of his mind. Strangling him with memories.
Amanda came up beside him and slipped her hand into his. “Ready?”
“No.”
They started up the path, and a minute later the door swung open. Marie stepped onto the porch, backlit by the light from inside the house. Was it Noah’s imagination, or did he hear her breath catch?
The sight of his former foster mother twisted in his gut. She still wore the same blue-and-pink apron, though it was more frayed that he remembered. Her curly dark hair was dusted with silver strands, the lines around her mouth deeper. But her eyes were the same—light, faded blue so similar to his that at one time he’d pretended that she was his real mother.
“Noah,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I’m not staying. Just making sure Amanda got here safely.” He cleared his throat.
Marie ignored his attempt at putting up barriers and charged toward him with a force that belied her tiny stature. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he stood stock still, rooted to the ground, as she got closer and closer.
“My boy.” She threw her arms around him and squeezed so hard that the breath stilled in Noah’s lungs. “You’re home.”
…
“It’s good to be back.” Des Chapman slid into the booth, a wide smile on his face.
“Bullshit.” Noah grinned. “You’ve been drinking cocktails and lounging by the pool for a month. Why the hell would you want to come back?”
“Would you believe there’s only so long I can do that without feeling like I’m going to lose my mind?”
“Actually, I would.” Noah rolled his eyes and laughed. “Bloody workaholic. How’s Gracie?”
“Good. Morning sickness seems to have slowed down, which is good. I hated seeing her like that.” He frowned. “Every time she coughed I started worrying if something was wrong. Turns out I’m more paranoid about the whole pregnancy thing than she is.”
Envy coiled in Noah’s gut. He hated feeling like that—because Des and Gracie were good people who deserved good things. They deserved a perfectly healthy little baby and all the joy that should go along with parenthood.
That’s not for you, remember?
Last night, when he’d let himself get roped into dinner, Bob and Marie had asked about his life. Was he still working with Des? Did he have a wife? A girlfriend? What were his plans for the future?
Yes. Hell, no. Nope and nothing. For once, he hadn’t been happy with those answers.
“I’m sure that’s normal with the first one,” Noah said.
“I’m sure I’ll be like it with all the subsequent ones, too.” Des grinned.
“You planning on having a whole football team?” He shook his head. “Of course you are. You’re Italian.”
“Damn straight.” Des paused as Pip brought over their coffees and lunch. He pushed the folders and his laptop out of the way to accommodate the food. “So, how have you been?”
“I saw Bob and Marie last night.” The words slipped out before he could even think about whether or not he wanted to talk about it.
Des raised a brow. “How did it go?”
“It was weird…but also it felt like I was going home.” He reached for his coffee and took a sip, trying to sift through his thoughts. “Amanda roped me into going to see them with her. Something about making peace with the past.”
Funny, he’d never considered the past something he needed to make peace with. It was nothing more than a collection of items boxed up and tucked away—like unwanted Christmas presents that no one had the heart to throw out. Not something that required revisiting, or so he’d thought.
“I don’t know how I feel about it,” he added. “I can’t say everything is all sunshine and rainbows now. I mean, one dinner won’t erase what happened.”
“But?”
“They’ve clearly been feeling bad about how we ended things.”
“I think they have for a while. They’ve been trying to contact you for years,” Des pointed out. “Why mend that bridge now?”
“I don’t know.”
It could have been any number of reasons—Amanda turning up and showing him that she’d changed. Ginnie landing her dream job in Sydney. Megan falling madly in love and making success on her own.
Or maybe it was Paige. You felt something with her that you haven’t felt in a long time…a connection. A reason to want more.
It hadn’t occurred to him until last night that by locking himself into what he saw as a stable life—his own home, a job he was good at, hiding behind solid emotional barriers—that he was clinging to the past instead of moving on from it. His life had barely changed from the moment he went out on his own. He never shared it with anyone, never shared his home or his heart.
He was stuck, and he wouldn’t move forward until he started taking risks. Until he started letting people get close to him.
“Do you think you’ll see them again?” Des asked.
“Hard to say.” That was the automatic response, shrugging off commitment. He swallowed. “But I’d like to.”
“Good for you, mate.” Des nodded. “That’s awesome.”
“We’ll see what it is. I’m not expecting anything from it because there’s a lot of water under the bridge.” Pause. “But I figure it’s time to get my shit together.”
For so long he’d thought he did have his shit together—for a guy with a stunted education and a shitty upbringing, he’d done okay. He paid his bills on time and took care of himself. But would he be happy saying the same thing in five years? Ten? Fifty?
Did he want to be an old guy who lived on his own and owed nothing to anyone?
“How did everything go while I was away?” Des asked, taking a bite of his panini and reaching for his laptop. “Paul told me you hired someone but that they finished up already, is that right?”
“Yeah, she, uh…moved back to the country.” He cleared his throat, his appetite waning. “Unfortunately.”
Unfortunately? She moved because you were too chickenshit to man up and give things a go with her. But Paige hadn’t wanted to give things a go; she’d wanted him to go all in. And that was scary as hell.
“And everything else?” Des asked.
“Fine. We had some challenges with the roster because Pip’s son was sick for a few days, but we made it work.”
“Sounds like everything ran smoothly.”
Noah nodded. “Yeah, it did.”
“And it sounds to me like you could probably manage a place like First full time.” Des looked at him pointedly.
Noah had known this moment would come. He saw through Des’s casual let’s get lunch the second the words were out of his mouth—this wasn’t a catch-up between friends. It was a job offer. More pay, more responsibility. More opportunity to disappoint.
He hadn’t been pleased at Des’s asking him to run the place in his absence, knowing full well his friend was trying him out for bigger things. He’d always worried that one day his performance on the job might harm one of the most important friendships in his life.
But that day hasn’t come in four years. Not once have you let him down.
“The Docklands location won’t be big,” Des said. “It’ll be the manager, someone in the kitchen, and someone out front, to start. At least until we know if we can get enough customers through the door. I’d give you full responsibility for hiring your team—”
“Okay.” Noah stuck his hand out before fear could yank the acceptance back. “I’ll do it.”
A grin broke out over Des’s face, and he shook Noah’s hand. “I was sure you were going to turn me down.”
“If you’d come back last week I probably would have,” he said. “But I’m ready for more.”
Ready for more.
It wasn’t something he ever thought he’d say, let alone genuinely feel. For the first time in years he wanted to grab life by the balls and show it who was boss. As Des talked animatedly about his plans for the new location, Noah could only think about one thing: Paige.
In only a month the gorgeous, pushy, ambitious country girl had turned him upside down and inside out. She’d shown him what could be. Could he guarantee the future? Only if he stayed stagnant.
And that meant one thing: he had an apology to make.