CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Noah glared at the message on his phone. He stabbed the call button.
“Tell me you didn’t leave our daughter in the care of a TV star,” he growled.
He heard what sounded like static from the other end. “Mellody, I know that’s you blowing into the phone. Don’t even try the tunnel trick on me.”
His ex-wife and sort-of friend sighed. “Noah, you make it sound like she’s a porn star. I met Cat. She seemed like a reasonably responsible adult, more so than that babysitter you hired a few years ago who broke into our box of wine and passed out on the couch while our five-year-old watched The Shining.”
“This is basically the same thing, but it’s your fault this time.”
“What’s been going on with you? Since the flood, you’ve been wound tighter than a helicopter mom on the first day of kindergarten.”
The truth of his ex-wife’s words wasn’t lost on him. “I just have a lot going on.” He did, he reminded himself. The fact that his life flashed before his eyes as he envisioned muddy brown waters closed over his head a half dozen times a day… well, that was a little distracting, too.
He found himself fixating on those handful of seconds over and over again. And then the tattoo, the boat. Safety. The woman who’d dragged him out of the water like a half-drowned dog had very likely saved his life. And he had no idea who she was. A stranger he’d never forget. One he’d probably never get the chance to thank.
Noah blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just not Cat King’s biggest fan. She’s a reality TV celebrity. Is that really who we want our daughter spending time with?”
Mellody laughed. “It’s a home renovation show, Noah, Not the Weird Housewives of Wherever. She’s nice, she’s smart, and she volunteered. Sara would have been inconsolable for a week straight if I’d said no.”
“I get that. It’s just…”
“Noah. She’s twelve, almost thirteen.” He could hear the gentle firmness in Mellody’s tone. He’d heard it millions of times during the course of their relationship. “We’re going to have to start accepting that. She’s old enough to stay home alone. She’s old enough to pick her after school activities. She’s old enough to be her own person.”
Logically, rationally, he got that. But when he looked at his little girl? He wasn’t ready to release her into the world. She wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready.
“I’ll take it into consideration,” Noah said, grudgingly. There were reasons he was the way he was. Reasons he’d never really delved into with Mellody.
Mellody laughed. “You know this is a partnership, right?”
“I do vaguely recall it being something along those lines. But if I find our daughter in a tube top and big hair talking about manicures and greased up pool boys, I’m blaming you forever.”
He heard the distinct sound of fake static. “What’s that? I can’t hear you. … going through… tunn—”
His ex-wife the comedian.
Noah tossed his phone on the seat next to him and headed toward Merry. He’d spent his lunch hour and the better part of his afternoon in New Haven meeting with state officials who marched through what aide Merry could and couldn’t expect. There were dozens and dozens of federal programs that dealt with recovery. And now it was his job to parse through the thousand pages—barely an exaggeration—of resources and figure out which programs fit Merry’s recovery needs and which ones they could qualify for.
It wasn’t ideal, but at least Merry could count on something outside of A Soggy, Sad Christmas of Destruction or whatever the hell moniker Cat’s network decided on for the show.
He spotted the fleet of production vehicles parked all over Mistletoe Avenue. He could add parking etiquette to his list of issues to discuss with Cat, Noah decided as he slid out of the vehicle and slammed the door.
Tired and frustrated, he was spoiling for a fight, and he knew Cat would give him what he wanted.
He spotted that mass of caramel colored hair spilling over a forest green vest. She was sitting on the front porch steps next to April. Pretty as a picture, of course. Because that’s what her life was. One big show for the cameras. His Sara was on April’s other side, her slim arm around her friend’s shoulder. April was crying.
What had been a slow, churning anger exploded into full-blown temper.
“Babe, it’s okay to feel upset,” Cat was saying to a twelve-year-old in her infinite TV star wisdom. “It’s tough to see your house like this and watch your parents worry. But you know I’ve got your back, and Sara does, too.”
April nodded, tears still sliding down her round cheeks.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Sara announced confidently. “Cat’s going to fix it all.”
That unwavering faith in a woman who had just made her best friend cry for the cameras made him snap.
“Sara, go wait in the car,” Noah snapped. His daughter’s eyes widened, but she recognized the temper in his tone and, after squeezing April’s arm one more time, high-tailed it down the sidewalk.
“I need a moment,” he said pointing a finger at Cat.
She rose, and he thought she deliberately put herself between him and April as if he were the one the girl needed protection from.
“April, why don’t you go on inside while I talk to Mr. Yates for a minute?”
April sniffled and nodded. “Okay.” She plodded up the stairs and into her ruined house where the ruckus of an entire production team throbbed.
“What exactly is your problem?” Cat demanded, hands on hips. “Are my permits expired? Did I look at someone sideways? Did I get too much work done?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Noah said coldly. “You’re the one who just made a twelve-year-old cry for the cameras. How do you sleep at night? Doesn’t it bother you? Using people to get where you want to go?”
“Excuse me?” He saw fire ignite in those hazel eyes.
“You drag this kid through her soggy, moldy childhood home and make her cry on camera. Oh, I’m sure the heart strings will be singing, but you just emotionally scarred a child. Where are her parents? Do they even know you have her?”
Cat stepped up to meet him, the toes of her dirty work boots brushing his loafers. “Do you see any fucking cameras out here?”
Noah blinked and spared a glance around the sidewalk. There was no camera crew, no sound guy with a boom. No director watching playback. He opened his mouth, but Cat held up a hand.
“Don’t bother. There are no cameras out here because we took a break because April was feeling emotional. She volunteered to give the cameras a house tour. And yeah, I was all for it because the audience loved her two years ago, and she’s only gotten cuter and smarter since then. I need people to connect with this story emotionally or your goddamn Christmas Festival will look like a half-assed Easter Egg hunt in a trailer park. I’m not going to apologize for doing my job.”
“Your job involves taking advantage of real people. I’m not letting you turn my town and my citizens into a bunch of pitiable victims.”
“You’d better back up right now, Noah, if you value that pretty nose of yours,” Cat fumed. She drilled a finger into his chest. “I’m giving your neighbors a safe space to tell their story and giving complete strangers the opportunity to care.”
“Don’t dress it up, Cat. You work for reality television. You’re one step up from an ambulance-chasing personal injury lawyer promising his clients a fortune for their slip and fall.”
“What is your problem, Yates?” she snarled.
They were so close he could smell her shampoo, something citrusy.
“My problem is you drag my daughter on set—without my permission—and expose her to the sordid drama—”
“Oh, you want to talk about kids absorbing things? Great. Yeah, kids are always absorbing what’s around them, and you know what’s around Sara? You telling your daughter her interests aren’t good enough.”
Noah saw red around the edges of his vision. “You’re going to want to tread lightly,” he said, his tone icy.
But Cat wasn’t one to take cues. No, she was one to throw a canister of gasoline on a fire just to watch the explosion.
“No, I think you are. If you keep steering your daughter away from what she enjoys, what’s important to her, what do you think the outcome is going to be? ‘Gee, thanks Dad for never supporting my interests. I’m so glad I became an insurance adjustor and married an asshole who thinks he knows what’s best for me.’”
“I’m not taking parenting advice from a reality TV star! And I don’t appreciate you filling her head with fantasies of fame and glamor.” Noah’s voice was low enough to be a growl.
“Glamor?” Cat spat out. She ripped the cap off her head. “I have mud in my hair. I’ve been working since five this morning dragging debris out of your fucking park so your town can have its Christmas. I have bags under my eyes from dealing with production issues until all hours of the night because you’re trying your damnedest to make this as difficult as possible. I’ve got an entire crew of landscapers down with the 24-hour bug, and I have to find another ten grand in the budget to get April the treehouse she and your daughter have always wanted.”
That finger was back, and it was drilling a hole into his chest.
“I haven’t done laundry in a fucking week, and these jeans are going to disintegrate at any given moment. I didn’t fill your daughter’s head with glitz and glamor, you fucking asshole. I filled it with the rewards of hard work and what being a strong, independent fucking woman means. Now get the fuck out of my way before I really tell you what I think.”
With less than half a second to decide, Noah wisely stepped aside. Cat stormed past him down the sidewalk. She whirled around and opened her mouth as if to give him one final parting shot, then closed it again. She settled for an obstinate middle finger and a glare hot enough to burn down his world before stalking off down the block.
Noah heard a low whistle behind him. Still shell-shocked, he turned. Drake Mackenrowe looked out of place leaning against a minivan in a flannel that must have been sewn on him. “You sure pissed her off,” he stated the obvious with a blinding grin.
“She’s not going to come back here with a weapon or anything, is she?” Noah asked, feeling just a little like he just wanted to limp off to lick his wounds.
Drake laughed. “No, man. Her verbal skills are usually the first line of defense, and if a solid warning doesn’t work, she’ll go with a right hook.”
Noah shook his head, processing. His brain was reeling from confrontation that had gone decisively in Cat’s favor.
A now fresh-faced April skipped out onto the porch. “Hi, Noah! Where’s Cat?” The resilience of children, Noah sighed to himself.
Sara peeped between parked cars. “Dad? Can I come back and hang out if we’re not leaving yet?” Sara’s question was teetering on whining.
The Hais’ front door opened again, and Jasper and Kathy appeared. Of course, they had been there for the filming. Noah swiped a hand over his face and found he was sweating in the chilly air.
“Oh, hey, Noah! Mind if we steal Sara for dinner tonight?” Kathy asked. “Jasper’s parents are cooking up a feast, and we need more mouths or we’ll be bringing fifty pounds of leftovers back to your house with us.”
April and Sara embraced as if it had been weeks not minutes since they’d seen each other. “Please, Dad?” Sara begged.
“Yeah, please, Mr. Yates?” April added her sad puppy eyes to the equation.
“Hi, Drake,” Sara said slyly.
“Hey, cutie,” Drake said with a grin designed to devastate pre-teens. Sara and April giggled in response.
“Have you guys seen Cat?” Jasper asked. “We were going to ask her if she wanted to join us since shooting’s done for the day. We all worked up an appetite, didn’t we?”
“Dad, you should have seen it,” Sara said, bouncing on her toes at his side. “Cat and Drake were all like ‘show us your house,’ and April got to give the tour, and Kathy and Jasper were on camera too. It was so cool!”
“You seemed pretty upset there,” Noah prodded April. He couldn’t have completely misread the situation, could he?
April nodded earnestly. “It’s hard to see our home in such disrepair and seeing Mom and Dad worry. But Cat’s right, it’s only stuff. And stuff is fixable. And even though it’s okay to feel downtrodden, it’s better to do something about it. She’s going to help us, and so I’m going to help someone else.”
“Cat calls it paying it forward,” Sara nodded.
Everyone calls it that, Noah wanted to point out.
“Noah, would you like to join us for dinner?” Kathy offered, a hand on each girl’s shoulder.
“Uh.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thanks, but I’ve got some work to do tonight.” Still a little dazed, he watched them walk down the block to Jasper’s sedan. A tight little group made somehow brighter and more hopeful than they had been this morning.
He had a feeling that Cat was the orchestrator of that turnaround.
“You okay, man?” Drake asked. “You look like you could use a beer.”