The final straw with his father had been when Noah fell in love with some old-school warehouses in the Bronx near the water. He’d had big plans for them that would have thrilled his grandfather. But not his father. Noah had invested his own money, thinking this would show his father how sure he was about the investment. It hadn’t.
“The sale has been stopped.”
“Why?” He felt bad leaving Wes with his mess to clean up, but his brother had offered to finish up the deals to sell that Noah had started before he left.
“You put Dad’s company on the papers.”
Noah pulled into the golf course parking lot and found a spot.
“Noah.”
“What?”
“You can’t guess where I’m going with this?”
He tried to reroute his thoughts, irritated with himself for thinking about all of the things he wanted to do with his girlfriend. Not just in the house either. He wanted to go to Disneyland, take her to Napa, do some hiking.
“Just tell me.”
“Dad won’t authorize the sale.”
Noah’s foot flexed, anger coursing through his body. “Excuse me?”
“Says it’s his.”
“It was my money. He knows that.”
“I’m just trying to give you a heads-up. Don’t shoot the messenger. You might have to call him and talk.”
“That bastard.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“I’ll deal with it. Get on a plane and come out here. Why are you still there?”
“With just me and Ari here, we’re the golden children now. You want me to leave my pampered lifestyle?”
Noah laughed, again when he didn’t think he could. Of the three of them, Wes was the least concerned with amassing a fortune. Oddly enough, he was probably worth more than Noah or Chris. He created apps, designed software, and did a bunch of nerd stuff that ended in tons of dollar signs.
“At least come visit.”
“I’m thinking about it. Trust me. Talk soon, okay?”
“You bet.”
They hung up and Noah worked to ease the tension out of his body as he grabbed his clubs. Before he got to the clubhouse, his phone buzzed again, this time with Grace’s number.
His heart double-bounced like a kid on a trampoline. She was becoming more and more important to him. It was a shift he hadn’t expected. Work always came first, but maybe that was because no other woman was Grace. Chris made it work with Everly, and he was committed to his job. His dad couldn’t make a relationship work even when he was engaged, but Noah wasn’t him. And Grace wasn’t just a fling. As scary as it was to admit that, it made him more determined to prove to himself that he could balance it all. He could do what he did best and have a life on top of it. But what if what he did best was changing?
Noah
Headed onto the course.
Grace
Break a leg. Or whatever you say before a game. Just wanted to let you know I invited Morty and Tilly for dinner. You’re welcome to join. I’d like it if you did but no pressure.
No pressure. Why not? He could handle pressure. Besides, he liked Morty and his fiancée. And he was crazy about Grace.
Noah
I’d love to join. See you soon.
Grace
Awesome. Good luck.
He hated that he felt like he needed it.
38
Grace wasn’t the best cook, but she could follow a recipe, even adding some extra spice without killing anyone. When she’d first worked for Morty, he’d been on a bland diet that consisted of a lot of rice, bananas, and pasta. She was a pro at those.
As she slipped the lasagna into the oven, she wondered if it was normal to feel this nervous. If she’d grown up, the way so many people did, with one or two parents who took care of her, guided her, and had expectations of her, would she be introducing them to Noah? Would her mom have cared? There was no man before him who had made her wonder.
For a variety of reasons, she hadn’t had many boyfriends growing up. She kept her eyes on the prize—getting away from her mom. Not every memory was bad, but their life, as a whole, was something Grace had always known she wanted more than. Despite her mother’s rotating door of men, they weren’t all bad. But Tammy found reasons to push them away regardless. It wasn’t until she was older that Grace realized the real flaw Tammy saw in every man was they could never live up to Grace’s biological father. That confused Grace, since he’d taken off right after Grace’s birth. Whatever the reason, her father was Tammy’s bar and no man measured up.
Part of her could understand, since she knew that if things didn’t work out with Noah she’d measure all others against him. She didn’t need Noah in order to be happy. She wanted him as a partner by her side. Yes, she wanted Tilly and Morty to like him, enjoy his company. Approve of him? So damn what. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s normal. Was it? Her former employer turned surrogate grandfather and his soon-to-be wife were coming to dinner with her now boyfriend-neighbor who not so long ago had been her sort of nemesis. Yeah. So many shades of normal, Gracie. Way to go.
The doorbell rang, and she breathed a loud sigh of relief to no longer be alone with her thoughts. Walking from the kitchen through the living room, she smiled at her own additions. She’d been plugging away at her own décor and design while working on Noah’s.
When she opened the door, Morty and Tilly stood on her stoop. He wore a bowler hat, which made Grace think of Noah and his grandfather. Tilly wore a pretty patterned dress with a heavy white cardigan. She carried a large, rectangular dish.
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Grace said, taking the dish from her.
“People say that but it’s just rude if you don’t. Besides, I haven’t baked my apple-peach crisp for you in far too long.”
“Mm. Well, I’m not saying no to that. Come on in. Hang your purse and hat on the coatrack.”
“Well look at this,” Morty said after shutting the door and seeing the antique rack. “This here is a thing of beauty. I think we may have had one just like this when I was a boy.”
“You find it at Mi Casa?” Tilly asked, hanging her purse on it.
“I did. I just love it there. Come on in and see what I’ve done with the place.”
Like a sunflower turning to face the sun, Grace felt herself bloom. She stood taller, felt proud.
“Oh, Grace. I love this couch.” Tilly sat down on the slightly curved sofa. Grace had fallen in love when she saw it in Home and Heart magazine. It had been her only real splurge so far with the money she was earning for designing Noah’s place. It looked like a shallow U, like something someone would see at a swanky nightclub. It was silvery gray, and she’d added teal cushions to each end for pops of color.
“Isn’t it awesome? I actually thought of going with one the color of the pillows but decided to be a bit more subtle.”
Morty stared at it, standing in front like he didn’t understand. “How’s a man supposed to stretch out?”
“What are you talking about?” Tilly scooted over a bit so he could sit, but he didn’t.
He gestured to the couch, waving his wrinkly hand from one end to the other. “A man wants to lay his feet at one end, his head at the other. What’s he supposed to do? Lie on his side and curl up?”
Tilly’s gaze locked with Grace’s, and they both laughed at the same time. Tilly grabbed his hand, pulling him down beside her. “Like your body would take up this entire couch. You’re shrinking, old man. There’s no reason to worry.” She moved back and forth on the cushion. “Admit it. Cozy as a bed, isn’t it?”
Morty shrugged, settled in a little. “Not bad, I guess. What other weird furniture did you get?”
Grace shook her head, pointed to her two perfectly normal armchairs. They were darker shades of gray, each holding a slightly different throw pillow with splashes of white and teal. Over the fireplace, she’d hooked up the television, and because she wanted to change the mantel, there was not
hing under it.
Tilly rubbed her feet on the rug. “I like this, too, honey. It’s all coming together so nicely. You’re making a home.”
Grace spent a lot of time thinking about that word: “home.” Her whole life, she’d imagined it to be somewhere to come back to, a constant, a North Star with sturdy construction and no wheels. She hesitated, her hands and heart momentarily frozen. The definition had shifted, morphed into something else that included someone rather than something. Rolling her shoulders, she huffed out a breath. That’s fine. She could adjust her perception without changing her life for a man.
“I’m happy with how it’s turned out. You two want a drink? I’ve got some beer, wine, and soda. Or just water or juice if you’d prefer,” Grace said, glancing at her watch. Noah said he’d be here by now. She glanced out the side window. She could still see his driveway, even with the patio extension Kyle had added. She’d filed the paperwork through city hall to have it built and was crossing her fingers no one said anything about it being there before it was approved. Backward was better than not at all. Noah’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.
“You missing your boy toy already?” Morty asked.
“Leave her alone, Morty.”
“What? She’s the closest thing I got to a daughter. I ought to be allowed to ask her what’s happening with him and how things are going.”
“But that’s not what you did,” Tilly said. “You teased her.”
Grace looked back and forth between them, amused by the banter that didn’t seem to need her input. “Drinks?”
“I’ll have a beer and so will he, honey,” Tilly said. “Smells delicious by the way.”
“Thanks. Be right back.” She went into the kitchen, grabbed the beers for them and a soda for herself and set them on the counter. The lasagna had another thirty minutes or so. She’d bought a delicious-looking loaf of French bread and made a salad. Everything was ready. She just needed the final guest. The simple dining-room table was already set with the dishes she’d bought. Okay, maybe she’d splurged a little, but everything, other than the couch, had been a reasonable price.
She brought the drinks back, set them on coasters on the coffee table. Taking her own can, she settled in one of the chairs, bending her legs to the side so she could curl her feet up under her.
The rasp of the soda opening made her mouth water. “How’s the wedding plans?”
Morty opened Tilly’s beer, handed it to her, then opened his own and took a long drink.
“A nurse friend of mine has a pretty cottage near Irwin Lake. We’re thinking just before Christmas. December nineteenth. Evening ceremony, just close friends. Ceremony and party right there. Simple buffet-style dinner.”
“That sounds lovely. And soon.” It was already mid-October, but since there wasn’t much to plan, it should be fine.
“We don’t see much reason to wait. Really, we only put it that far off to give people a chance to plan to come. We’ll have some of Morty’s old crew from the electricians’ union. My nurse friends. I have one sister and two nieces. They’ll come down from Oregon.”
They continued to chat about plans, menus, and gifts, but Grace couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not Noah was going to show. He’d been going into his last meeting hours ago. She wanted to text him but didn’t want to seem … what? Needy? The timer on the oven went off.
“How come Noah’s late?” Morty stood up.
“Probably stuck in traffic. He had meetings all day. You know how busy the roads are,” Grace said, unfolding herself from the chair.
“Has he texted? Called?” He put his hands on his almost nonexistent hips.
“Morty,” Tilly said low, under her breath.
Grace grinned at them. “I don’t know. I thought it was rude to check my phone with two of my favorite people here. While I do that, you go use the bathroom and wash your hands.”
His eyes flashed with impatience. “What am I? A four-year-old?”
Grace laughed. He was so easy to rile up. “Just a suggestion. No need to be cranky.”
He growled. “Like a four-year-old?”
Tilly hid her smile behind her hand.
“I’m not the one who keeps saying it,” Grace said, pursing her lips and shrugging.
She started for the kitchen, Tilly right behind her, but noticed Morty heading toward the hallway. “Where are you going?”
He scowled at her, then turned to walk away, mumbling, “Have to use the damn bathroom.”
Tilly and Grace dissolved into giggles as they entered the kitchen. Grace pulled the lasagna out of the oven.
“What can I do?”
“Grab the salad and dressing from the fridge?” Turning off the stove, she reached for the covered basket of bread she’d already sliced. “The butter, too, please.”
“Got it. We can wait for Noah,” Tilly said.
Grace kept the oven mitts on so she could bring the hot pan to the table. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon. I’ll check my phone soon as we get this set up.”
They did it together, Tilly setting out the butter and salad.
“Morty misses having you around the house,” Tilly said.
“Now why’d you go and tell her that? She’ll get a big head,” he said, shuffling back to the dining area.
Because she could, she leaned into him and gave him a hug. He returned it easily, making her heart happy. He was all bluster.
“I’ll try not to be too unbearable now that I know. You two sit. I’ll check my phone.”
Grace walked toward the mantel, where she’d left the phone, but heard Tilly and Morty exchanging whispered words. Tilly crossed the room, heading for the coatrack as Grace picked up her phone.
Noah
Game took forever. They wanted to do drinks after.
Noah
Going to stop at the gym. Frustrated and not good company. Give my apologies to Morty & Tilly.
Grace blinked away her surprise, wishing she could do the same with the onslaught of disappointment coursing through her body.
He’d texted over an hour ago. That was why his truck wasn’t in the driveway. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she set her phone down without replying. Walking to the table, Tilly came to her side, some white envelopes in her hand.
“No answer?”
Grace pasted a smile on her lips. “He got hung up. He won’t be able to join us. He asked me to apologize to both of you.” She had a quick flash of her mother forgetting to pick her up at school, of showing up late or not at all for her science presentation. Forgetting her birthday or just blowing it off.
As she joined Morty and Tilly at the table, she waited for the old man to say something disparaging. Something about today’s youth, commitments, and how, when he was courting a young woman, he’d have shown up even if he’d been shot in three toes and two fingers. Grace would never know why those specific parts of his body had been shot but she’d know that when he said something, he damn well meant it.
They stared at each other. Grace wished he’d say anything to make her feel like there wasn’t just an empty seat at the table but in her heart as well. Stop being dramatic.
“Let’s eat,” she said too cheerily.
“Starved half to death, I am,” Morty said.
“Well, simmer down, Yoda. The food is being served,” Grace said, putting a huge piece of lasagna on his plate. Tilly added some bread she’d buttered for him. He’d brought her beer to the table, set it by her plate. They took care of each other. Grace’s eyes prickled with tears she did not want to shed.
“I’m glad you guys could come. Thank you,” Grace said quietly, after she’d filled her own plate.
“We’re always happy to visit, Gracie,” Tilly said. The suspicious white envelopes sat near Noah’s plate.
Morty dug in but Grace moved slower, cutting a small square out of her pasta. “We talking about those letters?”
“Not if you don’t want to. Damn girl. This is good,” Morty said ar
ound a large mouthful.
Tilly made an “mmm” sound and nodded her agreement.
“Thank you. When did they arrive?” Grace slipped her fork into her mouth but didn’t taste anything. Tammy was covering her bases, sending to both addresses.
“Couple weeks ago. Back-to-back.”
“Thanks for bringing them.”
They ate in an awkward silence. Grace felt like there was a large anvil pressing down on the room.
Morty cleared his throat, picked up his beer, and took a long swallow. When the can hit the table, he announced, “She called, too. Left a message saying she just wants to see you. You’re blood and all that.”
Grace’s fork slipped and dinged the plate. “When did she call?”
“Last Monday,” Tilly said. “She asked who I was, wanted to know what she could but I wasn’t telling her anything. She said she had a right to know. Just said we’d pass the message on.”
Grace nodded, tears filling her eyes, which did nothing more than piss her off. She didn’t cry over her mother.
“Only going to say this once,” Morty said.
“You say that all the time and then tell me the same thing fifty times over,” Grace mumbled, looking at her plate.
“Never mind your smart mouth. Look at me, Grace.” His voice was hard and soft at the same time.
Grace bit the inside of her cheek hard before looking up.
“She didn’t do right by you but getting old has a way of making you think about all the things you messed up along the way. Not saying you have to hear her out, forgive her, read her letters or nothing. Just know that the same as you aren’t that little girl scared and lonely in a trailer no more, she might not be the same either.”
The thickness in her throat made it impossible to swallow. She looked up at the ceiling without tilting her head back, hoping that would keep the tears at bay.
“You cry, I get all the apple-peach crisp,” Morty said.
The heaviness got pushed aside for the rest of the meal, dessert, and a few games of Farkle. When she walked them to the door later that night, stepped out onto the porch, she saw Noah’s truck in his driveway.
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 25
