Redeem Me (14 page)

“Practice does make perfect,” I say, and again focus on my breathing.

“Do you like French toast?”

“It’s my favorite,” I say, still a little out of breath and hungry for food.

“I’m going downstairs to start making it. Would you mind wearing some clothes to breakfast? It’s incredibly distracting.” He stands and puts his pajama pants back on. He smiles at me as he moves. “And I believe you wanted to talk to me about your readiness for this type of relationship,” he adds, and his smile disappears. “I must admit, though, I’ve been impressed with your readiness thus far.” Noble turns and leaves the room.

I dawdle, not wanting to face this discussion. I’ve been playing house with Noble in a blizzard and the sun will come out soon, melting away our safe hold.

I pull on yoga pants and my favorite tee, a Mardi Gras shirt with all the parade names and dates from two years ago. Jason was furious that I went, but I’m still thankful Jenn convinced me to go. I wouldn’t dare wear this shirt around him, but like most other things, it’s easier with Noble.

Stop comparing them. You’re a stupid idiot.

I’m pulling my hair into a ponytail as I enter the kitchen and see the snowdrift on the panes of the back door. The snow is stacked against the door at least two feet high. I measure it against my leg and it’s halfway between my knee and my thigh. The snow continues to fall without any sign of slowing.

“How long can this go on?” I ask, staring out the window.

“The snow or us?” Noble asks as I turn around and see him placing two breakfast plates on the table. “Milk?”

“I’ll get it,” I offer as I make my way to the refrigerator. I pour two glasses and replace the gallon. “I see you planned ahead for the storm.”

“I knew I’d be entertaining.”

“You knew I’d say yes?”

“I hoped.”

I hand him his milk and take my seat at the other end of the table in front of a plate full of French toast. The smell of the cinnamon warms me and I inhale deeply. There are two pats of butter melting in a pool on top, and two country links of sausage next to it.

“I have a proposition,” he says, interrupting my salivating. “We’ll talk this through, and no matter what the conclusion is, let’s promise to enjoy the rest of the storm the same way we did last night.” He smiles a naughty smile.

“What if you hate me when we’re done speaking?” I ask.

“I could never hate you enough to not repeat last night.”

He lowers his eyes to his plate and my heart aches for him. He has no idea how screwed up I am. He can’t possibly want what he thinks he wants.

“The only thing I ask is that you tell me the complete truth, even if you believe it’s going to hurt me. I’d rather hear everything now.”

I nod, understanding. I take a bite of my French toast and it melts in my mouth.

The next thirty seconds drag like hours as we eat in silence.

“What are your feelings for me?” Noble asks.

That’s an easy one.

“I love you,” I reply, never breaking eye contact with him. “I’ve always loved you. In high school and at Rutgers I loved being with you. Everything is just better when you’re around.” I mentally dwell upon a decade of fond memories. “Noble Sinclair, you’re one of the few guaranteed good times in life. I might have wanted to hug you or hold your hand then.” I move my French toast around in the syrup. “Now I feel exactly the same way except, instead of hugging you, I want to take off my clothes when you’re around.” I meet his gaze again and the joy on his face mirrors my own.

“That’s good.” He’s more comfortable than he was when I first came downstairs.

“What are your current feelings for him?” He kindly omits his name. I take a deep breath and search for the answer—the one least painful for Noble to hear and yet still close to the truth. “Please be honest,” he says, reading my thoughts.

I start out slow. “I hate him for being with her. I believe I could actually kill him for having sex with her and getting her pregnant.” I drop my fork on the edge of my plate. “I despise him for making me wish such evil things on him, her, and the baby.” The latter is barely a whisper and I look down, consumed with shame. “But I long for him every day.” I realize yesterday was different and revise. “Almost every day.

“I’m scared that I’m ruining both of our lives by being unable to forgive him, and I question my ability to fairly judge the situation. Am I just being stubborn? Sometimes I think it was my fault.” I take a deep breath. “Mostly, I’m terrified of him. I’m afraid to see him again.” I sigh, signaling that’s the whole story.

Noble’s face turns crimson as the blood rushes to the surface. “Charlotte, has he ever hurt you?” His jaw is clenched and I note his hands are in tight fists still resting on the table.

“Not with his hands.” I remember all the bruises and marks from our times together and amend, “Not out of anger.” I blush as my eyes again survey my plate.

When I look up, Noble has his head in his hands, hiding his face from me. This is why I didn’t think we should have sex.
My God, am I hurting him?

“Why are you afraid of him?” he asks as he moves to sit in the chair next to me. It’s as if I might try to lie and closing the distance between us will force me to render the truth. I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, my forearms resting on his shoulders as I look into his beautiful blue eyes.

He pulls my hands down and holds them firmly in his own. “Please tell me, Charlotte. It can’t be any worse than what I’m imagining.”

“Did Jason ever tell you about the last day we were together?” I ask, trying to remain stable as I say his name.

“Only that he told you about the baby and you left. He said he didn’t know where you were and it was killing him.”

I take a deep breath and push aside the sorrow I feel for Jason.

“I thought it was going to be our last weekend together before I moved there. Finally the travel and weeks apart—and separate lives—were coming to an end.” I look down at my hands in Noble’s and continue. “Jason seemed strange from the second he picked me up at the airport. He was despondent, one minute cagey, the next angry. I couldn’t discern what was going on. I even asked him if he was on something.”

Noble sits motionless, not letting his face betray his feelings. His silence beckons me to continue.

“I haven’t discussed this with anyone, not even Sean,” I say as I wipe away a rogue tear running down my cheek. Noble reaches out but returns his hand to his side without touching me.

“The ride to his house was long and terrifying. When we finally got inside he told me that he cheated on me. That he had sex with someone else. To say I was stunned doesn’t communicate what happened inside my mind. Pieces of my brain dislodged and started bouncing off the sides of my skull. A dull ache became a debilitating banging. I just couldn’t comprehend that he was telling me he made love to someone else. Not Jason, not to me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t take my eyes off him, and I didn’t feel any empathy for how truly tortured he looked.”

I remember the sight of him, sitting on his bed, the fear of desertion crippling him.

“I asked him, ‘Who?’ Just like that, one word, and he told me Stephanie Harding. It stung as I pictured them together, the same way I’ve imagined them every day since. It made sense, though. She always seemed exceedingly happy to see Jason and rather disappointed by my presence.

“I asked him, ‘When?’ and he said the night before my spring formal. I’d called him that night and he didn’t answer. I looked around his loft and I could hear my message as I imagined her on top of him. I don’t know how I kept from getting sick, my head still pounding.

“I asked him, ‘Why?’ and he told me he didn’t know—which I thought would make my head explode. How could he have done it and not tell me why?

“And finally, I asked him, ‘Why are you telling me now?’ It was August. I remember thinking, ‘you bastard, why did you wait three months,’ and then it hit me. I knew she was pregnant. I got up to leave and he tried to hold me there. I promised him if he’d just let me leave, I’d come back and talk to him. He let me go and I checked into a hotel. Three days later I called Sean and he flew down to pick me up. He got the rest of my stuff from Jason’s and I’ve only spoken to him once since.”

Noble blurts out, “When? When did you talk to him?”

I begin again, remembering the sound of his voice when I finally answered the phone. “After I moved home, he was relentless. Calling my cell phone, my friends, and my work trying to find out where I was. I finally answered the phone and begged him to stop calling.” I stand up and walk to the sink with my plate. Without turning toward Noble, I add, “I told him if he didn’t stop calling me I was going to kill myself.” I pause, remembering the silence on the other end of the line as Jason digested my statement. “And I meant it.”

I rinse my dishes and turn toward Noble. Judging from his face, he’s repulsed by me, or at least disturbed by me. “Most days are easier than the one before. I can’t use you to get over him, and I know I’m going to see him again. Butch knows if he tells him anything about me, I’ll cut him off.” I see a glimmer of something in Noble’s eyes. “But it’s a small town. As long as I stay in Salem County, I’ll see him again.”

“Is that why you’re here? Why you didn’t go to New York?”

“No—at least I don’t think that’s why.”

I walk over and kneel down in front of Noble. “I can’t be with you because if he walks through that door right now, even after last night, I can’t guarantee I won’t leave with him.” Noble looks like he might throw up. “Nothing feels finished.”

“Okay, that’s enough truth for right now.”

Noble gets up and carries his plate to the sink. “I’m going to go plow and make a dent in the first round.” I try to think of what to say to repair us. “I want you to be here when I get back,” he says, and kisses me on the cheek.

I nod and silently wipe away a few more tears.

I
clean up breakfast and dress in the layers I took off last night to walk over and check on Butch and BJ. The snow has slowed almost to a stop, but the forecasters say the storm is circling around and coming back in, accumulating another foot. It will begin snowing again by sunset. I hear the plows out, making the main roads passable. Noble may decide it’s best I leave tonight. I grab the container with Butch’s stew and walk out the back door into a drift almost as high as my waist. I look over to see Noble watching me from atop a tractor. He’s too far to see, but I sense he’s laughing at me. I make my way to Butch’s, taking exaggerated steps that leave my thighs burning before I reach the door. Once inside the shed, I peel off my top two layers to avoid tracking water onto Butch’s floor and knock before letting myself in.

Butch is asleep on his La-Z-Boy with BJ on his lap. When the dog sees me, he starts wagging his tail and jumps off. Butch doesn’t wake up and, for a minute, fear grips me as I wonder if he’s alive. He answers with a snore and repositions himself on the chair. I put the stew in the fridge and leave a note on the table about it. I also take out a loaf of crusty bread from the freezer I’d left a few weeks ago.

“Do you want to go out and play in the snow?” I ask as I kneel down to hug BJ. He wags his tail and jumps up on me with both paws on my shoulders. He’s such a lover!

Once outside, BJ runs in circles like a crazed lunatic. He obviously loves the snow. He dives in and throws it up in the air with his snout. He also stops four times to mark places, his scent having been covered by the thick blanket. Finally, he has his fill and I take him back inside. I use the towel we keep in the shed to dry him off as best I can, but I can already hear Butch grumbling about “this goddamned wet dog” in his house. I fill BJ’s bowl with food, freshen up his water, and pack myself back into my layers and parka.

Noble’s driving his enormous green tractor toward me, and with the chains on the wheels it’s even more impressive. When he gets within a few feet, he cuts the engine and leans out of the cab. I have to shield my eyes to see him. The sun’s taken back the sky for now and it’s glaring off the snow.

“Paul Hackl just called. There are two ambulances stuck in a drift at Eldridges Hill. They were transporting when they slid off the road. We’re going to take a couple of tractors up to see if we can help.”

“Do you want me to come with you—” I ask hopefully, but he begins shaking his head no before I can even finish.

“Nah. You stay here where it’s warm. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Okay,” I say weakly.

“Call me if you need anything,” he adds as he starts up the engine again. It roars close to me and I instinctively move back.

The house feels strange without him. Without anyone. If I wasn’t here, he’d be all alone, or with some other girl. I realize Noble’s young to be running this farm on his own.
How many
acres did he say?
I think two thousand. His parents retired from farming and now winter in Florida and travel in an RV throughout the summer. That’d be a fun way to live with Noble.

Since I’m not sure how long we’re going to be here, and more importantly how long we’re going to have power, I throw in a load of laundry. The layers of snow clothes alone fill the washer. I bring in some firewood and light another fire. I jump at the sound of the ringing phone and run to the kitchen to find my cell. I’m disappointed to see it’s Sean calling and not Noble. He should be back by now.

“Hey. It’s your brother.”

“Hi. Isn’t this crazy?” I ask.

“Completely. We measured eighteen inches already,” Sean says.

“Noble went up to Eldridges Hill to help with some ambulances.”

“He went? I heard it’s bad. They were transporting a husband and wife that were in an accident just south of there. They brought a fire truck to pull them out and it got stuck. This snow is slick; it’s hard to get any traction. It’s heavy, too. Be careful shoveling it.” Sean continues to tell me all the county news: power losses, accidents, roof collapses, and any other snow-related incidents he’s heard.

I wish Noble would come home.

The sun goes down and the snow unleashes again. The lights flicker and I decide it’s time to shower before it’s not an option. I didn’t bring any body wash or cleanser, so I make do with the Irish Spring soap and Pantene that Noble has in the shower. Since most of my clothes are in the dryer, I find Noble’s shirt drawer and select a dark green T-shirt that says
GARDENERS DO IT WITH HOES
on it. I smell it before I put it over my head and the fragrance reminds me of Noble, and last night. It hangs low enough that I don’t need anything else, although my tolerance for nudity is apparently high.

With nothing left to do, I turn on the TV. The local news has been covering nothing but the storm for the past twenty-four hours. They report in from the Jersey shore; Delaware; Center City, Philadelphia; and Allentown. There are massive accumulations, but it appears we’re getting the worst of it. I wish my mom were here. She would tell me what to do about Noble—and Jason. Of course, if she were here, I’d probably never have been with Jason.

The lights flicker and the TV turns off and I’m completely in the dark. Literally and figuratively. I lie down, afraid to move because I might break my toe or something else. The last thing I hear is the howling of the wind being echoed by a whistling in the chimney.

I’m startled awake by Noble on top of me. He has one leg between my legs, the other on the floor, and both hands on either side of my head on the couch. He’s supporting most of his weight but touching me the length of my body.

“I’m glad you’re home,” I murmur. The light from the fire flickers across his face and I think I make out a smile, but it’s dim and I’m half asleep. He’s still on top of me and hasn’t said a word. Thoughts of what he could say are running through my head.

I hate you. You shouldn’t be here. You’re an idiot.

Get out.

I start to breathe faster just from his stare and I feel him on my leg. I still don’t move, completely unsure of what he’s thinking. He smells of smoke and gasoline and snow, except for his breath, which has the sweet smell of mint as it flashes across me with each exhale. The crackling of the fire drowns out my breathing and I think I feel the same heat from his eyes that I hear from the fire. He kisses me gently.

We kiss like this for a while, slowly, without touching each other, just lips and tongues exploring. My mind’s racing with need and want and then it’s empty of any real thought except his body on mine. The anticipation’s driving me crazy and I say it with my lips, kissing him harder, willing him to lower himself onto me.

“What do you want, Charlotte?” he asks, his mouth hovering over mine. He’s teasing me and it’s working, his hard-on thrusting onto my leg with a slight gyration. My hips respond and I’m raising my body, chasing his above me. I try to slow down but my longing escapes and takes me hostage. I wrap one leg around his back and flip us both over. Now I’m on top. He inhales sharply at the shock of being on the bottom.

“You.” I look in his eyes and kiss him hard. I can’t help myself. I need his clothes off him. I have to feel his skin on mine. I pull my shirt over my head and unbutton his jeans. I move down to use both hands to pull them off and throw them on the floor. I begin to move back up his body, dragging my hands gently on his thighs, letting my fingertips linger as they move up. I cup his balls in my hand as I gently roll them and place the tip of him in my mouth. He moans softly and I feel the fervor start between my legs. I roll my tongue around and around the tip and let my teeth rest on it as I gently roll his balls again. I let my lips trail down his entire shaft, taking the whole thing in my mouth, and lick my way up.

Again, and again, and again until he says, “Char…lotte…oh, Charlotte.” He pulls me on top of him and guides my hips to take him in. I rise and fall, with Noble matching each of my descents. I arch my back and throw my head back and he uses his hands to play with my nipples. I moan and begin to move faster and faster until I rise up one last time and can’t figure out how to come back down. He holds me steady as he comes, too, and lets me collapse onto his chest. His heartbeat races on the side of my face, and I never want to leave this moment.

“You’re amazing,” he says, kissing my head, and I feel pretty amazing. I lie naked in his arms until I regain my faculties. I start to sit up and he grabs both arms and holds me just far enough away to make eye contact.

“Promise me you’ll never talk about—or think about—hurting yourself again,” he demands as his stare bores into me.

I lower my eyes, too filled with self-loathing to let him see. “I promise.”

God help you, Noble.

I wake up in Noble’s bed, feeling like I’ve been asleep for a week. I reach out to find Noble’s side of the bed empty. My watch says it’s 9:30, but that seems impossible. How could I have slept so long? I grab my cell phone and text him:

Where are you?

IN THE KITCHEN

I miss you…

I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN

What the hell does that mean?
He definitely doesn’t seem like my happy Noble. If he’s not up here in three minutes, I’ll know something’s wrong. Maybe he finally got the message that this whole thing is a horrible idea.

After three excruciatingly long minutes, I lose hope. I throw on one of his shirts and head downstairs. He’s sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. As I sit down, I hear the plow dragging down the street.

“Have you been out?” I ask meekly, unsure of what’s going on.

“Yes.” He finally looks up at me.

“How are the roads?” I have to resist the urge to go and sit on his lap. Something tells me that’s no longer acceptable.

“This road is clear; I doubt they’ve gotten to the secondary roads yet. Probably by this afternoon we can get you home.”

I look down at my hands on the table and the sadness washes over me. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I will myself not to cry. As I concentrate on not crying, the tears fight free and I manage to say, “Good,” just before standing and walking upstairs a little too fast.

I go back to my original room and let the tears spill over. I stay as still as possible. I don’t want Noble to hear me. I start gathering my things and placing them on the bed. I sling my bag down and the rowel necklace falls out. I pick it up and hold it to my forehead as I completely lose control.

You fucking idiot, Jason Leer. Have you ruined me for all future relationships? Now Noble and I won’t even be friends. I. Hate. You. I hope you live every day in utter misery and die in a car crash on a country road where vultures peck out your eyeballs.

I lie down on my back and cover my eyes with my hand, still holding my necklace.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice is soft and incredibly kind. It barely breaks into my hatred-filled thoughts.

“Nothing, just packing,” I answer, but don’t bother to look at him.

“Please don’t lie to me, not now.” Noble moves onto the bed and moves my hand away from my face. The necklace partially falls out.

“What will become of us.” That’s the truth, minus a murderous rant.

“What do you want to happen?”

I turn my head and his eyes convey the emotion I can’t put my finger on. Need, mixed with fear, love, or something I can no longer identify.

“I want us to be friends the way we were at Rutgers.” I take a deep breath. “I want to not care about Oklahoma any longer.” Oklahoma will always be between us. “And I want to never be a source of pain for you.” Noble’s look changes to one of sad understanding. “And I want the last two nights to go on for the rest of my life.”

I am so selfish! I am. I’m not supposed to think about hurting myself, but I should jump off the Delaware Memorial Bridge.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot,” he begins. “I’ve screwed this up a bit, too. I underestimated what was a possibility in one snowstorm. My feelings for you have changed and I can’t go back to the way things were at Rutgers. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

I start to cry. Why did I come here? I’m going to have to move to New York.

“I want to tell you to just stay here, that I’m not afraid of anyone from your past, and that I know better than you do what you need.” Noble wipes the tears from my cheeks. His eyes are filled with sympathy. “But you’ve made it clear I don’t know what’s going on in your head and your heart. You and Jason getting back together is not an option I can consider. I can’t move forward, constantly afraid of the next time you see him.”

He’s right. He’s right about everything.

“Charlotte, you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. I’m sure it was quite a shock to find out you’re not going to be. It hasn’t even been six months, and you’re totally different than you were in September. You’re moving on whether you realize it or not.”

I consider the truth of what he’s saying, but functioning compared to near death is not exactly a success story. “I’m going to try to keep my hands off of you until you realize what you want is right here in front of you.”

“You don’t hate me?” Is that possible?

“Quite the opposite.”

I roll over and hug him. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and my smile alone could warm us both.

Abruptly he gets out of the bed and asks, “Do you want to come help me shovel?”

“No, but I do want to see BJ, and Butch certainly can’t shovel, so I will.”

Noble gets BJ and me home safely. He helps me carry all of BJ’s stuff into the house. It’s cold in here, and I already miss the warmth of Noble’s. We just stare at each other, my kitchen table a barrier between us. I fight every urge to run across the room and throw myself at him. His stare starts the heat and I want him. He was right; something changed during that snowstorm.

“Well, I’d better go. You guys going to be okay here?”