Sweet Noel

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Sweet Noel Page 9

by Jeanette Lewis

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  “That went about like I expected,” Gina said. She turned to pull Arthur into a hug. “Why don’t you go inside, buddy, and I’ll be there in a minute?”

  Arthur hung his head as he followed Jordan inside, without the door slam this time.

  “What happened?” Noel asked.

  “He forgot,” Gina burst out. Her voice was high and tight, and her hands were clenched into fists. “I woke him up. Said he’d been up late and totally spaced that he promised the boys a fishing trip.”

  Noel blew out a breath. “And he’s not coming now?”

  “No, they were going to Galation, so he said by the time he got everything ready, it would be too late anyway.”

  “They could go somewhere closer,” Noel suggested.

  “That’s what I said too, but he wouldn’t even consider it.” Tears stood in her eyes. “How can he do this? How can he break their trust so casually?”

  Noel shook his head. “I really don’t know.” The thought of Eden churned in his gut. He’d give anything to spend the day with her. How could Lee throw away this chance so readily? “I’m sorry,” he sighed again.

  Gina gestured wildly toward the front door. “Feel sorry for them, not for me. They were so excited.”

  Noel stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing small circles. Beneath his fingertips, the fabric of her robe was thick and soft. “Yeah, it stinks.”

  “He does this and leaves me to deal with the fallout.” Tears tracked down Gina’s cheeks. “Not to mention I had plans for today, so now I have to drop everything and take care of my boys and somehow make this up to them.”

  “What plans?” Noel asked.

  “What?”

  “You said you had plans today. Just curious.”

  She flushed. “Not plans, really. Just more of a day off. Go back to bed, maybe take a walk on the beach, a long shower … not be Mom for a day.”

  “Gotcha.” Noel nodded. “So go do it.”

  “I wish. I can’t park the boys in front of the TV all day.”

  “I’ll take them.”

  Gina stepped back and looked up at him. “You?”

  “What? I don’t have a lot of experience with kids, but I know better than to let them bungee jump into the ocean or something.” He paused. “Actually, that sounds pretty fun.”

  “Stop it.” She reached out and lightly smacked his arm. “Are you serious, though? You’d watch them for a few hours?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  Gina hesitated. “I don’t know. They’re in a pretty rotten mood. Maybe I should go in and—”

  She started toward the house, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. A fountain of heat, like sparks from a bottle rocket, surged up his arm as his fingertips brushed the delicate skin of her wrist. He wanted to pull her closer, but he didn’t want to risk his heart. The push-pull resurfaced between them, stronger than it had been in the hospital.

  “Let me take care of them for a little while,” he said softly. “I got this.”

  Their eyes met. Hers still held vestiges of tears, and they sparkled like broken glass. “Okay.” She finally nodded.

  Noel trailed his fingers down the inside of her arm. When he touched the skin at her wrist, the fire sparked hotter, sending a shiver of heat through him. “You go back to bed, take a bubble bath, whatever you want. I’ll make them some breakfast, and we’ll have some fun.”

  “Okay.” She was beautiful in the early-morning light. “Yeah, okay. And thanks.” Gina dropped her eyes from Noel’s gaze and hurried inside.

  He took a big breath and held it, willing himself to relax. It was a way to repay her for letting him stay here, nothing more.

  Gina took off her robe and climbed back into bed. Her anger at Lee had been watered down, diluted by the touch of Noel’s fingertips on her skin. She turned the memory over in her mind and a surge of butterflies took wing in her stomach.

  She picked up her phone and searched for “Noel Hamilton.” Why hadn’t she thought to do this before? Because she’d assumed he was a drunk drifter with nothing to offer the world and Ben said it would be okay. Funny how perspective could change once you got to know someone.

  Noel’s name came up, along with an impressive gallery of sand sculptures—pirate ships, mermaids, elephants, castles, even the Taj Mahal. He’d been modest about his talent and his prospects. From the looks of it, he won plenty of sand-sculpting contests, many with grand prize payouts in the tens of thousands of dollars.

  So why did he live in a van?

  Because he could. Because he was someone who set his own rules and went his own way. Because he was smart and strong and talented enough that he didn’t have to live like everyone else.

  Gina managed a small laugh. This was stupid. It felt like she was thirteen again and over the moon because Bryson Howard had asked her to dance at the school Valentine’s Day party. She’d been hyper for a week and driven everyone in the family crazy.

  But this was different. A small shard of hope had emerged in the grind of daily life. Maybe, just maybe, there was love out there again, waiting for her to find it.

  In love with Noel? Definitely not. She wasn’t ready, and besides, she wasn’t going to fall for him just because he was handsome and gentle and had offered to help her out for the morning. But she could fall for him. The memory of hugging him last made her shiver again. She burrowed into the pillow and pulled the quilt over her head, shutting out the morning light and burying thoughts of Noel, leaning on his crutches and offering to take on her sons.

  12

  Gina woke up and pulled the blankets off her head. The room was stifling and the sun no longer slanted through the window, a sign she’d slept longer than expected. She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Sleeping in was a rare indulgence, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the bed all to herself. Even though he started every night in his own bed down the hall, Arthur always seemed to wind up with her. She didn’t really mind, though. Even his feet in her back brought comfort, and she knew she’d miss it when he decided he was too big to climb in with Mama.

  She changed into a pair of jeans and a white shirt, throwing on a purple cardigan against the chill of December.

  Downstairs, the house was quiet. Her parents were out somewhere, and the boys were off with Noel. Gina went to the kitchen and made coffee, looking out the back windows while she waited for it to brew. Noel and the boys weren’t in the backyard. She looked beyond the dunes to where the ocean sparkled in the sunlight. They were probably on the beach; she’d be on the beach on a day like this.

  Her heart swelled with gratitude for this strange man who had literally crashed into her life. It wasn’t just the luxury of sleeping in or having the bed to herself; it was the lifting of the burden, however slight, of being a single mom who had to be in charge all the time. Noel had taken the weight for a few hours, let her lose herself in the day and simply be part of a family again.

  Gina couldn’t help smiling. She poured the hot coffee into her favorite mug, the one with the mermaid design, and stepped outside to look for them.

  As she came up out of the small canyon created by the dunes, she took one look at the beach and gasped. To call it a sand castle would be an insult. It was a sand masterpiece with turrets and towers as tall as Arthur. There was a moat and even a set of meticulously shaped stairs circling the outside. Noel sat on a towel, his bad leg extended to one side, while the boys circled him like hummingbirds at a feeder. Buckets and tools were scattered across the work area, making it look more like a building site than a beach.

  “Mom!” Arthur looked up and saw her standing there openmouthed. He waved.

  The warm sand gave way beneath her feet as she made her way over to them.

  “Look what we made,” Arthur announced proudly.

  “It’s incredible,” Gina said. “How in the world do you get such detail?”

  “Noel showed us,” Jordan said. The
sullenness was gone from his face, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “It’s the best castle we’ve ever made.”

  “It sure is. It’s the best castle I’ve ever seen,” Gina said.

  Noel looked up from where he was carving something in the wall. The breeze teased his hair as he squinted at her. “Hiya.”

  “This is …” Gina threw out one hand. “How do you even make something like this? It’s unreal.”

  “The key is really wet sand,” Jordan told her. “You can’t just use what’s on the beach; you have to get it out of the ocean.”

  “Then you stack it up like pancakes,” Arthur added. He puffed out his chest. “It was really heavy, but I did it, Mom!”

  “Yup, they were big helpers.” Noel winked at the boys. “Once you stack it up, you can start carving it.”

  “This is incredible,” Gina said. “I mean, I saw some of your pictures, but seeing in person is breathtaking.”

  “Pictures?”

  “I Googled you,” she admitted. “And now I have a bone to pick with my brother.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I asked him to run a background check on you, but somehow he missed you’re basically the Michelangelo of sand sculptors.”

  Noel threw back his head and laughed. The sound washed over her, filling her with happiness. “I don’t know I’d go that far,” he said.

  “I would,” Gina declared. She walked around the castle, taking in the detail. They’d carved block patterns into the towers’ sides, and even sculpted a pair of lions guarding the front gate.

  “Background check, huh?” Noel threw her a mischievous smile from over the top of the drawbridge. “You’re thorough.”

  “I kind of have to be.” She glanced at her boys. They were blissfully unaware of the conversation. Arthur busily dug around the castle, making the moat even deeper, and Jordan’s eyebrows were knitted as he carved wobbly shingles on the roof of a tower. “They’re having so much fun,” Gina said. Her heart swelled to see genuine happiness on Jordan’s face. Her boy had shouldered too much grief for too long; it was nice to see him look like a carefree eight-year-old again. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. They’re good helpers. I wish I could take them with me to New Orleans.”

  “You really are set on going, huh?”

  He shrugged. “Gotta make a living somehow.”

  They looked at each other, sharing a new closeness. She wanted to kneel beside him, run her fingers through his windblown hair and twist the strands around her fingers. She wanted to see his smile light up his face and know she was the reason for it.

  “So, want to try it?” Noel asked, breaking the spell.

  “Yeah, Mom! Come try it.” Arthur beckoned with one chubby, sandy hand.

  “I don’t know,” Jordan said. “We’re about done.”

  “We can make something else.” Noel tapped one finger against the bridge of his nose as he considered the problem. “I know. How about a sand snowman? It doesn’t feel very Christmassy on the beach, but we could change that.”

  “You can’t make a snowman out of sand,” Arthur giggled. “It will fall apart.”

  Noel gave him an exaggerated frown. “Oh, my young apprentice, did I not teach you anything?”

  “You can make anything out of sand if you’re patient,” Jordan said with conviction.

  “Exactly,” Noel grinned, then gave him a fist bump. “So how about it, Gina? Ready to make a masterpiece?”

  She laughed and shrugged. Noel’s energy was infectious, and the way the boys looked at him made her heart swell with happiness. “Okay, sure. Let’s make the sand snowman to end all sand snowmen.”

  They got busy, dragging pails of wet sand from the surf and packing them as Noel directed. He stayed seated on the towel, his injured leg thrust out in front of him, scooting around the sandman to work on it. Gina thought it probably wasn’t very comfortable; she should have thought to bring him a folding chair. But Noel didn’t complain.

  She knelt at his side and used a trowel to shape the sandman’s rounded belly.

  “Looking good.” Noel raked his hair out of his eyes with one hand and grinned at her as the sandman took shape. “You make a great assistant.”

  “Almost as good as my boys, huh?” she teased.

  “Almost,” Noel said, loudly enough for the boys to hear. “I don’t know that there could be better assistants than these boys.”

  Jordan and Arthur beamed in unison.

  “Speaking of assistance, we’ll need some shells or driftwood for buttons and a mouth,” Gina said. “How about you two go find some? Stay in sight!” she called as they dashed off. She turned to Noel, still sitting at her side. “Thanks for this. They’re really having fun.”

  “So am I,” he said. “It’s nice to be out in the fresh air again.”

  “How’s your knee?”

  Noel shrugged. “Sore, but it’s okay.”

  “Want me to get you a chair? How about some painkillers?”

  He hesitated, then reached out to take her hand. His fingers were covered in sand, and the tiny particles scraped over her skin, sending more butterflies shooting through her stomach. “Shush,” Noel said. “I’m fine. It’ s nice to be here with you.”

  Slowly, she laced her fingers through his, marveling at the new feel, the new touch. She’d held hands with Lee thousands of times. This felt so different, so … right.

  “Does your ex give you money?” he asked.

  “Some. Why do you ask?”

  Noel shrugged. “Seems like you’re living pretty lean for someone who should be getting child support.”

  Gina bit her lip and scraped at the sand with the trowel. It was a sore subject and not one she normally discussed. But Noel’s gray eyes held no judgment, only curiosity. “Lee is supposed to send alimony and child support every month—supposed to being the key words there.”

  “Not reliable, huh?” Noel guessed.

  Gina shook her head. “I guess he has more important things to spend his money on. Like his new girlfriend.” The words felt barbed, scratching at her throat as she said them.

  “Ah,” Noel said quietly. “Yeah, that seems to happen.”

  Gina smacked the trowel against the sandman, packing it tighter. “I certainly wouldn’t be mooching off my parents if I could help it,” she muttered.

  He didn’t tell her not to feel that way, nor did he try to talk her out of it. Instead, he squeezed her hand in silent support. The lack of emotion was exactly what Gina needed. Gushing sympathy just made her cry.

  “What’s your end plan?” Noel asked after a long moment of silence.

  “Pfft, like I have time to plan,” Gina said. “Right now I’m simply trying to survive.”

  “You have time right now. So dream a little. Architecture?”

  Her throat felt tight. “I think I’ve forgotten how to dream,” she admitted in a low voice.

  “Well, then, where do you want to be in five years?”

  “Jordan will be thirteen, and Arthur will be ten.”

  “Yes,” he squeezed her fingers. “And Gina will be …?”

  “Still not an architect, and way too old to start any of this crap again.”

  “What do you mean by crap?”

  Romance. She’d meant romance. Right now, as she sat here by Noel on the beach with their fingers intertwined and the breeze playing in their hair, it’d be easy to think he was in her life to stay. But this wasn’t just a temporary arrangement, this was less than temporary. Any minute, he could be off on his own, back to his own life, and she would be a blip in his rearview mirror.

  “I don’t know,” Gina finally said. “Forget it.”

  Noel released her hand, then put his arm around her, gently tugging her closer. She leaned into his sun-warmed T-shirt, resting her cheek against the hard muscles of his chest. He smelled like the outdoors, ocean air, and faintly, a clean smelling aftershave.

  Gina took a slow breath. This wasn’t real, was
n’t real, wasn’t real. But she couldn’t bring herself to move away from his embrace, to put a stop to the butterflies pinging through her.

  “Mom!” Arthur’s voice pierced the air. They both turned to see the boys running toward them, their arms weighted down by beach treasures.

  “How’d you do?” Gina said. She straightened up and forced a smile, but didn’t move out of the circle of Noel’s arm.

  “We got shells, a couple of sticks for the mouth, and look, even a big rock for his hat.” Arthur dumped his armload onto the sand.

  “Way to go! These will be perfect!” Gina said. She looked over Arthur’s shoulder to where Jordan was approaching more slowly, a gleam of suspicion in his eyes.

  “How about you, Jordan?” Noel prompted.

  He shrugged and plunked shells and sticks onto the sand. “Same thing. No big deal.”

  “Great!” Gina’s smile felt forced, her enthusiasm faked. Ten minutes ago, building the sand snowman had felt like a fun family activity. Now, it felt like the time Ben had hidden behind the porch swing when one of the Indigo Bay boys brought Gina home from a date. It had been a good evening, made even better when the boy went in for a kiss. But Ben had spoiled it all by leaping out and scaring them. They’d jumped apart, embarrassed, and Gina went to bed furious at little brothers.

  And now it seemed her own boys were playing the same role. She scooted over to put a few inches between her body and Noel’s.

  “Jordan, are you okay?” Noel asked.

  “Yeah, fine.” Jordan shrugged.

  They finished the sandman quickly, adding the shells as buttons, pebbles for the face, and a piece of driftwood for the nose. Arthur’s rock proved slippery on the sandman’s head, but Noel carved out a divot and balanced it like a beret.

  “Perfect!” Noel said as they all stood back to admire the sandman.

  “He needs a name,” Gina said.

  “Olaf,” Arthur declared. “His name is Olaf.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Noel nodded.

  “We should have brought a knitted scarf for it,” Gina said. “So it would look more Christmassy.”

  Noel laughed. “I’ll bet you one hundred dollars you don’t have a knitted scarf in your possession, let alone one to donate to a sandman.”

 

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