Authors: Hailey Abbott
She leaned against the railing on the deck and looked out over the huge backyard. Directly below her were a pool and patio where a few people milled around talking, drinking and smoking.
Below the pool the backyard sloped down into a field where a volleyball net was set up. A bunch of kids were lazily punching a ball back and forth. Trees lined the yard on all sides and vines and bushes nearly camouflaged an old wooden fence.
This would be a pretty place for a wedding,
Abby thought. She could picture Carol walking down the deck steps and along the side of the patio to an arch set up where the volleyball court now was. She smiled slightly, then caught herself and rolled her eyes.
Since when did her brain do that?
“Finally found the soda,” Noah said, reaching around her to hand her a plastic cup. “You’d think all Michael’s family drinks is beer. The whole refrigerator is full of it.”
“Well, it
is
a party,” Abby joked.
She clicked her cup with Noah’s and took a sip. Down below a couple of guys chased a miniskirted girl with a supersoaker water gun. She screeched and protested as they blasted her white T-shirt until everyone could see the flowered lace of her bra right through the fabric.
“You guys!” the girl whined, smiling all the way. “This is a party! Not a wet T-shirt contest!”
“It is now!” one of the guys said, dousing another girl as she passed.
“Wow. There is some great people-watching at this party,” Abby said.
Note to self: steer clear of those particular Neanderthals.
“Yeah. There are some people I am not going to miss,” Noah said. He sipped at his soda and looked down. His face grew serious as the party raged around them.
“Did you—I mean—did you want to go away to school?” Abby hoped her asking didn’t seem weird. She didn’t want him to think she was presuming anything.
“Nah.” Noah placed his soda aside and shrugged. “I mean, not that I don’t want to see the world . . . I do. All of it. But for now I need to help my dad out. And I can take a few classes at RCC and maybe find out what I’m really interested in.”
“You don’t know yet?” Abby asked.
“No. You?” Noah asked.
“I’m thinking about being a nuclear physicist,” Abby joked. “Or maybe an eyebrow plucker. I hear you can make a killing in New York.”
Noah laughed. “Somehow I don’t see you as the plucking type.”
“I live to pluck,” Abby deadpanned.
They turned back to watch the scenes playing out on the vast yard below. “If your dad really needs the help, why don’t you guys just hire a manager and a delivery person?” Abby rested her elbows on the railing. “It’s not like you can’t afford it. I know how much those cakes cost,” she added with a narrowing of her eyes.
Noah smirked. “Yeah, we probably could. But this business means a lot to my dad. And he’s always been there for me. I mean, he raised me by himself after my mom died and he taught me everything he knows. Besides, I really
enjoy
the work, so for now I think I’ll just stick close to home.”
Abby looked at him and he smiled again. Here she was, trying to do everything she could just to get away from the Roost for a year, and here Noah was putting college on hold to stay home with his dad. How would it feel to really
want
to be at the Dove’s Roost? To
crave
a life of menu building, ribbon tying and place setting?
Abby let out a long sigh. If only she could get psyched about the weekly nuptials, she wouldn’t have to desert her family. She could stay home next year and be the model employee.
And besides . . . Noah was going to be here. The distance between Italy and Massachusetts would be a tough one to conquer even for a person who
had
experience with relationships.
It was definitely something to think about.
The stream that burbled through the center of Van Merck Park had never seemed like much to Abby. She’d kicked one of her favorite red Keds into it when she was in first grade and a Canadian goose had grabbed it and run off. That was about the only interesting thing that had ever happened in this spot. Up until now anyway. Tonight she was seeing the stream in a whole new way. With the dim streetlights flickering a few dozen yards away and the stars blazing overhead—with a couple of open Chinese food containers and not another soul in sight except for Noah Spencer—it was actually really romantic.
“Try the shrimp. It’s intense,” Noah said, spearing a piece with his fork.
He held it out to her, but Abby wasn’t exactly at the mushy feeding-each-other stage yet. In fact she hoped to never be at that icky stage with anyone ever in her life. Instead she grabbed the fork from his hand and plucked the shrimp off between her teeth.
“Jimmy’s is the best Chinese food I’ve ever tasted,” she said.
Noah laughed. “I bet it’s the only Chinese food you’ve ever tasted.”
Abby frowned. “Well, Jimmy’s
is
the only place in town, but there’s a reason,” she said. “No one’s stupid enough to try to compete with him.”
“Point taken,” Noah said. “You know, I think we got out of that party just in time. Ryan was about to suggest a game of strip water polo.”
“They would have had to kill me dead to get me to participate,” Abby said, taking a sip of her soda.
“Yeah, and I don’t think your dad would appreciate my bringing home nothing but your cold, stiff body.”
Abby laughed. “Probably not.”
They sat in silence for a moment, smiling and eating. It was so quiet and relaxed Abby almost forgot about what a war zone her life had become. Out here with Noah, it felt like peacetime.
“This is nice,” Noah said finally.
“What is?”
“This. Hanging out with you.”
“We hang out all the time,” Abby said. But she flushed nonetheless.
“I know . . . but this is different,” Noah said. “It is, isn’t it?”
Abby smiled. She knew exactly what he meant. It was different now because she was always wondering whether he was going to kiss her again. That stomach-clenching feeling of uncertainty and anticipation stayed with her the whole time. She used to hang out with Noah and wonder whether or not he was going to give her a wedgie.
“I have to say something and it’s probably gonna freak you out, but remember that if you run, I know where you live,” Noah said suddenly.
“Okay,” Abby said. She turned toward him.
“Abby.” His face was very serious. “I think I’m sort of in love with you.”
Abby laughed—loud. She couldn’t help it. And she couldn’t stop. She put her hand over her mouth and looked at Noah, mortified. Maybe now
he
was going to run.
“Okay, not the reaction I was looking for,” Noah said.
“No! No! I’m sorry!” Abby told him. She moved a carton of kung pao chicken out of the way and slid closer to him on the bench. “I’m sorry—that was stupid. It was just a knee-jerk—”
“It’s okay, it’s cool,” Noah said. He was wiping his palms on the thighs of his jeans. Over and over.
“No!” Abby was overheating. “That’s not what I mean.”
She reached out and grabbed him by his cheeks with her thumb and forefinger. His mouth smushed into a pucker. It was ridiculous, but it was the only thing she could think to do to get him to look at her.
And then she opened her mouth and blurted it out, before she could let herself doublethink how it would sound. “I love you, too!”
Noah’s eyes lit up.
“Rearry?” he said, his face still squashed in her hand.
Abby finally let him go.
“Yes, really,” she said. “I know it feels fast, but—”
“But it’s not,” Noah finished for her. “Because we’ve known each other—”
“Forever,” she said.
They both laughed at the silliness of the moment, then Noah reached over and placed his hand on hers. Abby moved closer to him.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Noah said, looking deep into her eyes.
“You’d better,” Abby said.
By the time Abby got home the only lights on were in the catering kitchen and the ballroom, where the workers were cleaning up after that night’s event. Abby approached the house, giggling at nothing. She let herself into the residence, walked into the kitchen and paused. There, in the dim light from the overhead stove lamp, were Carol and Tucker, making out. Right in the middle of the room. Tongues and all.
Abby slammed the door to let them know she was there. They broke the lip contact and turned to look at her, but didn’t even have the decency to fly apart in embarrassment.
“Hey, Ab! I’m glad you’re here,” Carol said. “We were just trying to figure out how to do our first kiss at the ceremony.”
Abby grimaced. “Not like that,” she said. “Unless you’re sending your wedding video in as a porn audition tape.”
Tucker laughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah. Guess we got a little carried away.”
Ew. I so don’t need the details,
Abby thought.
“Okay, so what do you think of this?” Carol asked, moving toward Tucker again, all puckered and ready to go.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute,” Abby said, waving a hand in front of her face. “You want me to help you pick out a
kiss
? ”
“Yeah,” Carol said with a shrug. “It’s important, Abby. Now watch.”
Ewewewewew! This is
not
happening!
Abby thought. Carol slipped her arms around Tucker’s neck and gave him a long, mercifully closed-mouthed smooch.
“What do you think?” Carol asked. “Does it look all right?” She sounded like someone who was trying on a pair of shoes.
“Perfect,” Abby said, moving toward the stairs. “Perfect. Wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Wait! You didn’t see the other one!” Carol called after her.
But Abby was already halfway up the stairs. This whole thing was definitely out of hand.
Abby slipped into her room and closed the door behind her. She closed her eyes tight and tried to recapture the moment between her and Noah. Her face felt tight and tingly from making out with him and when she heard his voice in her head, telling her he loved her, her entire chest filled with a blissful warmth. She breathed in deep and let it out slowly, a smile playing about her lips. There. That was better.
Kicking off her shoes, Abby headed for her bed, where she planned on flopping down, falling right to sleep and dreaming about kissing Noah all night.
When she hit her bed something crunched beneath her. Abby rolled over, half expecting to find a list of bridesmaid duties for tomorrow, but instead was greeted with a pile of mail. A flyer from Lockport about another successful school year—they loved to advertise themselves. A couple of catalogs—Title Nine Sportswear and Urban Outfitters. And a thick brown packet from . . . Student XChange.
Abby gulped, feeling a sudden mix of excitement and confusion. Where had this come from? Who had gotten the mail? Had her parents seen the return address and figured out what she’d done?
She tore open the end of the packet with her finger. She tipped the gnarled envelope on its side and let its contents tumble onto the bed. There was the glossy catalog Christopher had showed her. A few folded papers of different colors and sizes and . . . one letter on cream-colored stationery.
Abby unfolded the letter with shaking fingers. She held her breath and read.
Dear Ms. Beaumont,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been
accepted into the Student XChange program for Lockport
Academy for the next academic year with full scholarship
funding (see enclosed financial aid materials).
“Oh . . . my . . . God!” Abby said under her breath. She’d gotten in! She’d really gotten in! Abby Beaumont was going to Italy! She rolled over on her bed and reached for her phone to call Delila and tell her the good news, still clutching the letter in her free hand. She was halfway through her best friend’s phone number when she stopped cold.
Yes, she was going to Italy with Delila and Christopher. And she would be leaving Noah behind.
Abby blew out a breath and flopped onto her back.
“Oh . . . crap.”
Engagement Gifts, continued...
Mr. and Mrs. Paul Condon: Ice cream maker (Can you say pointless?)
Mr. and Mrs. Barry Ring: Bread maker (That’s
direct-to-attic gift buying.)
Ms. Celia Malloy: Quesadilla maker (Now this is an
appliance I can get behind.)
Mr. Richard Gill: Plastic-bag sealer (Because . . . ?)
Mr. and Mrs. Leon Kapusta: Cedar-, birch- and pine-scented candle set. (And who doesn’t love the smell of wood?)
Mr. and Mrs. Drew Bartholomew: (Not sure what
this thing is. Paperweight? Wall decoration?
Simple dust magnet? It looks like a heart,
maybe? An abstract crystal heart paper
weight? Just what every couple starting out
really needs!)
• 11 •
In Sickness and in Health
Abby leaned her elbows on the wooden countertop and stared out the window at the traffic passing by. It was drizzling outside and the hiss of the tires running through the rain was lulling her into a near coma state.
I’m going to Italy,
Abby thought. She rested her chin in her hands and repeated it again in her head.
I’m going to Italy . . . if I ever tell my parents about it and
they let me go and I actually decide I
want
to go. . . .
“Wednesdays are kind of boring around here, huh?” Barb said, leaning in next to Abby.
“I’m sorry,” Abby replied, standing up straight. “Do you need me to do something?”
“Tell me what’s up,” Barb said, raking her fingers through her short white hair. “You’ve been dazed and confused all week.”
Abby’s face flushed and she looked at the floor. “Sorry,” she said. “There’s just a lot going on right now.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” Barb asked. “It’s got to be more interesting than sorting the sock bin.”
Normally Abby was not the talking-about-it type, but Barb really seemed concerned. And she needed to talk to someone. . . .