by Unknown
No sweat.
The clock changed from eleven-fifty-nine to midnight. He stretched his arms over his head, enjoying the slight release it gave his muscles. He should probably get some sleep, but this was his most productive time of day, when the girls were in bed. So he pulled out a calculator and a pad of paper and got to work. He’d break down the costs of the project, put together an estimate, and take everything to Cassie tomorrow.
“Daddy?” a quiet voice sounded behind him. Noah spun around and spotted Adelynn in the doorway. Her beautiful brown eyes were wet with tears as she squinted through the light at him.
Noah opened his arms to her, and she promptly crawled on to his lap and snuggled close. “What’s the matter, princess?”
“I had a bad dream.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
“A bad man was chasing me. I saw Mommy and ran to her, but when I got close, she ran away.” Fresh tears filled her eyes as she looked up. “Why did she do that?”
Noah frowned. His girls didn’t usually have bad dreams, and he couldn’t remember them ever dreaming about Angie—especially not in a negative way. Where had this come from? He pulled Adelynn close and rubbed her back. “It was just a dream, sweetie. It didn’t mean anything.”
“But remember when I dreamed about living in a balloon house? You said that meant I was going to have a lot of balloons at my birthday party. And I did.”
Noah stifled a groan. Sometimes he really wished his girls’ memories were more like his: spotty. But they were both too sharp for their own good, and Noah had to learn to think on his toes—something that was difficult to do after midnight.
He sighed. “You’re right. Sometimes dreams can mean something, but sometimes they’re just dreams and don’t mean anything at all. If I dreamed about a big, purple dinosaur coming to eat dinner, do you think that means we’d really have to make room for a big, purple dinosaur?”
Adelynn shook her head, but uncertainty still clouded her eyes. “Did you dream about a big, purple dinosaur?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then that doesn’t count, Daddy.”
Once again, she had him. At times like these, Noah missed Angie more than usual. She would have been able to come up with something plausible. And she never would have bought a bunch of extra balloons for a birthday party in an attempt to make a dream come true. But Angie wasn’t here to explain why she’d run away from their daughter in a nightmare.
“Do you miss Mommy?” Noah asked.
Her little eyebrows scrunched together. “Sometimes. I wish she was here to do my hair really cute for school or come on field trips with our class like Beth’s mom does. Sometimes, I wish…” Her voice trailed off, as though she was worried she’d hurt her dad’s feelings.
“What do you wish?” he encouraged.
“That I had a mommy.” The words came out as almost a whisper, and she kept her head down, refusing to look at him.
Noah’s heart constricted. He thought of all the field trips he’d had to miss. How his hands that were so skilled at cutting wood were worthless when it came to anything hair related. How his dinners weren’t nearly as good as Emma’s or Becky’s or how the girls never knew who’d be picking them up from dance.
Suddenly, the life Noah offered his daughters felt like it wasn’t enough anymore. Did Becky and Emma see it too? Was that the reason they were encouraging him to get out and start dating again?
The revelation settled like a heavy brick in his stomach.
He snuggled Adelynn closer. “How about if I sing you a bedtime song?”
“You can’t sing, Daddy.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Noah. “Well then, maybe I can come lay beside you until you fall asleep instead.”
Adelynn nodded, and Noah picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. A giggle sounded, and Noah smiled. At least he was still good for something.
Cassie straightened the salt shaker on the kitchen counter then glared at it, immediately pushing it back. She didn’t used to be so OCD, but no matter how hard she tried not to be, she couldn’t stop herself. Landon had ingrained in her that everything had a place, and that’s where it belonged. But no matter how hard she tried to stop being that way, she constantly found herself organizing and tidying, scouring and vacuuming. It was the only thing to do when she didn’t have anything else to do, and doing something was better than doing nothing. Maybe this was who she was now—a person obsessed with appearance.
Was it possible to become someone you didn’t want to be?
Cassie’s house belonged on the cover of An Organizer’s Guide to Frustration-free Living, and yet her life felt so disorganized. So frustrating. Maybe that’s why she continued to put everything in its place even though Landon was no longer around to get after her if she didn’t. Otherwise, she’d be even more lost.
A loud knock interrupted her thoughts and made her jump, tipping the salt shaker over. She quickly set it upright, pushed it back in its place, and swept the granules off the counter and into her palm. She tossed the salt into the trashcan as she made her way to the front of her house. Another knock vibrated the door right before she pulled it open to find Noah Mackie on her doorstep.
“Hey” was all he said.
Her heart gave an involuntary little skip, and Cassie resisted the urge to run and hide. He was too handsome, too talented, too charming, and too available. He scared her the way Landon never had, but should have.
Her fingers continued to grip the knob as she stood on the threshold, unable to do something as simple as invite him inside. She nodded toward the papers he held in his hand. “Is that the estimate?”
“It is. Though I realized last night that you never gave me a budget to work with. So I added in everything I thought you might want, gave you a large allowance for things like flooring, bathroom amenities, and the fireplace, then built in a cushion for some extras. So if it seems really high, that’s why. We can always scale things back and go with less expensive flooring. That’s up to you.” He held the pages out to her. “Would you like me to go through it with you?”
“No, that’s okay.” Cassie took the plans from him, making sure to avoid touching him in the process. “I’ll look it all over and call you if I have any questions.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “I just finished up another project, so I can get started on your basement whenever you’re ready. Just let me know.”
“I will.”
He nodded and turned to go.
“Oh, and Noah?”
He stopped and twisted back to face her, one eyebrow quirked in silent question.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
Cassie watched him walk away, unable to pull her eyes away from his relaxed, yet confident stride. He had a laid-back manner about him that made it seem like nothing ever got to him, and yet Cassie didn’t trust it. People weren’t always what they seemed. She’d learned that one the hard way.
Noah knelt on the cold concrete and plugged his phone into an old set of speakers. He set it to an upbeat playlist that included songs by Foo Fighters, Evanescence, Aerosmith, and Green Day—some of his favorite bands. Then he cranked up the volume and began drilling the holes through the studs for all the wiring. The HVAC had been run, the walls roughed in, and now it was time for the electrical. If he could get it done by the end of the week, he’d be ahead of schedule and could probably get the walls drywalled and prepped for paint before the week of spring break. Hopefully Cassie wouldn’t mind if he took that week off to spend with his girls.
All in all, things were looking up. His old boss had even called the week prior, saying that work was picking up and they’d probably have a job for him by the end of April. The timing couldn’t have been better. He’d take time off the week of spring break, finish up Cassie’s basement, and pick up where he’d left off with his old job.
As he fished the cable through the newly drilled hole, a muffled, musical sound
invaded, not quite drowning out the Pearl Jam song he was listening to, but definitely ruining it. Noah walked over to his speakers and turned the volume down. The sound of fiddles, flutes, and—was that an accordion?—filtered down through the ceiling. It was that strange Irish music. Loud banging soon followed, making it sound as though Cassie was tap dancing across the floor above him.
He glanced up and frowned. Why wasn’t she wearing those ballet-type shoes like his girls wore? The ones with soft soles that produced quiet steps.
At first, Noah tried not to listen, then he tried not to care. Cassie couldn’t keep at it forever. But when the accordion, fiddles, and banging dragged on for an hour or more, Noah couldn’t take it any longer. So he cranked up his music, turning it loud enough to drown out a sound that should never be referred to as music. Torture, maybe. Music, no way.
The banging on the ceiling stopped, and Noah resumed working, grateful that Cassie seemed to be done. But then the crazy, Irish noise increased in volume to the point that it overrode Linkin Park, which, Noah had to admit, was a feat. It wasn’t an easy band to crowd out, though the duet of the two genres was not a sound anyone should ever have to hear.
He winced as he trotted over to his speakers and turned up the volume again, this time to the max. The Irish noise followed suit, growing louder and louder until it completely drowned out whatever song Noah’s pitiful little speakers played. He stared at the ceiling, wondering what sort of sound system the woman had upstairs. It was nothing less than awesome.
Noah brushed the sawdust from his hands, powered off the speakers, and jogged up the stairs. At the top, he knocked, but there was no way she would be able to hear anything with that racket going on. So he cracked the door and poked his head through. No one was in sight.
It was difficult to tell where the music was coming from; the speakers seemed to be everywhere. But Noah had already seen the left side of her house, where there was no room to dance, so he turned right and walked cautiously down the sleek, dark hardwood floor. He paused when Cassie came in sight, her legs and feet moving so quickly in skipping/kicking motions that it made them hard to follow.
The grating music faded to the background as Cassie popped in and out of his line of sight. She had an almost regal bearing with perfect posture and long legs that drew Noah’s attention. Not only was her body beautifully formed, but the way she moved through the fast, intricate steps captivated him. She wore what appeared to be clogging shoes, which would explain the loud banging. Only now it didn’t sound like banging. It sounded like a cool drum accompaniment to the music.
When her legs carried her out of sight once again, Noah took a few steps forward and leaned against the wall, folding his arms. He continued to watch until her feet led her in a circular motion and she caught him staring.
Her eyes widened, and she immediately stopped dancing. She quickly spun around and shut off the music. Her chest and shoulders rose and fell from the exertion of heavy exercise.
Wow, she had nice lines.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I tried to knock, but you didn’t hear. I just wanted to see what sort of stereo system could completely drown out my music downstairs.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, looking almost skeptical. “You’re not upset?”
“Upset? No. In awe? Yes. I want your speakers. What brand are they?”
Her eyebrows scrunched together in a flummoxed expression. “I don’t know for sure. They belonged to my late husband. All I know is he loved music, wanted the best of the best, and had speakers wired into nearly every room. I’m sorry about drowning out your music. I just really need to finish the choreography of a dance before my class tomorrow, and I couldn’t keep the beat straight with your music in the background. I also can’t figure out how to keep the sound to just this room. There are too many buttons, and I’m afraid I’ll mess something up if I touch anything.”
“Well, you obviously know how to work the volume,” teased Noah, walking toward her.
Her face flushed, and the color clashed with her hair. It was kind of adorable to see this vulnerable side to her. Maybe she wasn’t quite as refined or perfect as she first appeared.
“Let’s see here.” Noah powered on the receiver then scanned the knobs and buttons until he found one called Input. As he slowly turned the knob, the music quieted, sounding like it was coming from the next room over.
“How did you do that?” Cassie leaned closer, and the smell of sweat mixed with sawdust mingled in the air.
“I’m magic.”
“Will you teach me? Please?”
Noah smiled. “This is a multi-room receiver. All you have to do is turn this knob, and the music will switch from one room to the next. Turn it back upright, and you’ll get music everywhere.”
Cassie gave it a try, and a tentative smile played across her lips as the sounds changed. Noah liked being the one who’d put it there.
“How, exactly, do you get your feet to move that fast?” he asked.
Her smile widened, revealing that elusive dimple. “Lots and lots and lots of practice.”
“Have you ever thought of dancing to, you know, more modern music?”
“Are you calling Irish jigs outdated?”
“I wouldn’t dare for fear you’d trample all over me with those shoes.”
She laughed softly. It had a lilting ring to it that Noah found intriguing. “For the competitions, the girls are only allowed to dance to Irish music. If Adi or Kajsa continue to take lessons next year, they’ll be able to compete and then you’ll understand.”
Noah nodded. “I just think you could totally rock it to Pearl Jam.”
The smile disappeared from her face. “I don’t like hard rock.”
“What about plain old pop rock then?”
Her shoulders moved up and down in a semi-shrug. “I’ll think about it.”
“You should. I know my girls would love that, and if you chose a Taylor Swift song, Kajsa might even enjoy it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“In the meantime,” said Noah, “maybe we should talk about putting in some good sound-proofing insulation in the ceiling and walls of your studio.”
“And the sooner the better, right?” she said dryly.
He chuckled. “I’m only thinking of you.”
“Right.”
“Seriously. Some day you might have a napping baby or kids trying to do homework or—”
“No. I won’t.” Her body stiffened as she turned back to her stereo. “Do whatever you think is best. I really need to get back to choreographing.”
Noah wasn’t sure what he’d said to ruin the camaraderie they had going, but he wished he could take it back. Cassie was fun to talk to when she let her guard down a little. She was also interesting in a slightly mysterious way, and it would be nice to get to know her a little better. Why didn’t she like hard rock? Why didn’t she have a favorite ice cream flavor? And why were there fluffy, pink towels hanging in her modernized half bath and from the handle of her sleek, stainless steel oven door?
There was a story behind it all, Noah could feel it.
Cassie reminded him of a brain teaser game his father had once given him. It consisted of two metal tubes that spiraled around in the shape of a cursive “e” and were connected at the center. Noah’s job? To un-connect them. But the metal had been too thick to fit through each other, so Noah had immediately given it back to his father, saying it was impossible. His father turned his back to Noah, fiddled with the toy for a few seconds, and turned around, holding a metal e’s in each of his hands. A few wiggles of his wrists later, they were reconnected, and his dad handed it back.
“Nothing’s impossible,” he’d said.
After that, Noah had spent hours fiddling with the stupid toy, only to toss it down in frustration at the end of the day. “How did you do it, Dad?” he’d demanded that night.
“Keep at it. You’ll figure it out eventually.”
And Noah had. Eventua
lly. At first, it had happened by accident. He’d been playing with the toy, and suddenly, as if by magic, the two pieces fell apart from each other. Then, as his father had promised, over time, he’d finally learned that if he twisted the metal in a certain way, he could easily separate them the way his father had.
Maybe that was what Cassie was like. To Noah, she was two separate things: a pink hand towel and sleek, contemporary fixtures. But if he got to know her better, maybe he’d find a way to put them together and figure her out.
The question was: did he care enough to try?
Maybe. Maybe not.
With slow and thoughtful steps, Noah returned to the basement and finished fishing the cable through the walls. Only after he was done did he realize that the Irish music never came on again.
“Girls! What’s taking so long? You’re going to be late for school, and I’m going to be late for work,” Noah called.
“I can’t find my boots.” Kajsa’s voice echoed down the hall.
“My hair is ugly,” complained Adelynn. “I told you I shouldn’t go to bed with it wet, Daddy.”
Noah entered the girls’ room to find Kajsa’s bare feet sticking out from under the bed and Adelynn trying to pull a brush from her tangled hair.
“Are your boots under there?” he asked Kajsa as he grabbed the brush from Adelynn’s hands and started working it through her long, blond hair. Every stroke made her grimace.
“I found one,” came Kajsa’s muffled reply. “Oh, there’s the other one.” She wiggled out from under the bed, wearing a grin and a hairstyle that could be used for an object lesson on disorder and chaos. Noah awkwardly tried to wrap an elastic around Adelynn’s hair so he could work on Kajsa’s.
“Dad, that ponytail is lopsided and too loose.” Adelynn frowned at her reflection.
Behind her, Kajsa rolled her eyes as she yanked on her favorite cowboy boots. “Ready,” she announced.
“I think we need to brush your hair first,” said Noah as he attempted to tighten and center Adelynn’s ponytail.
