Page 55 of The Forever Formula
“He did. Said you have quite the eye for design. I might have to get you to give me some tips to refresh this old house.” She looked around. “It is getting a bit out of date.”
“If you like it, then that’s all that matters,” I said.
Natalie stirred her coffee and smiled at me. “I’m just so proud of you. Paul would have been too.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that right now. “Thank you.” I almost choked on the words, my throat had suddenly gotten so tight.
She tilted her head. “What’s wrong, dear?”
Then, like a volcano erupting, everything flew out of my mouth all at once. “Yesterday was so perfect. I worked on the house, I made a plan for my future, and Noah ...” I trailed off, not meaning to mention him.
Natalie raised an eyebrow slightly at Noah’s name, but she kept her face steady as I continued.
“But then my ex showed up uninvited yesterday, trying to win me back, and I sent him packing.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They fell freely from my eyes.
“Down, Mrs. Biggles.” Natalie shooed the dog away and then grabbed a box of tissues for me.
I pulled one free and wiped my face.
Natalie sat patiently while I composed myself before she asked, “Pardon my question, Rach, but that all sounds like good things.”
Was I really going to tell Noah’s mom? I wanted to. I really did. She was like a mother to me. One of the only wise people I could count on.
I decided then and launched into a retelling of Roger’s hug and Noah’s poorly timed arrival, about the envelope in the door and Noah speeding away.
When I had finished, she chewed the inside of her lip.
“I could kill those boys,” she said in a scornful tone.
She was mad on my behalf, and I loved her for it. But I couldn’t tell her my true fear, that Noah was playing me all along just to get my property.
“Well, if you want to know what I think ...” Natalie paused, waiting for my approval.
I nodded.
“I think you and Noah need to talk and clear this all up. You two seem good together. And I know it’s selfish of me to say, because I’d love you as a daughter-in-law and I’d love some little grandbabies ... but I’m also saying it as someone who cares aboutyou.”
She was right, of course. I needed to at least tell Noah about Roger’s impromptu visit, and let Noah explain the papers. I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
Last night, all my worst fears were swirling and building off one another. But in the light of day, and hearing it from someone who cared about me, who knew us both, all these problems suddenly seemed solvable.
When I left the Hart house, I texted Noah.We need to have a talk.
Then I set to work on the house for the day. I’d picked up a new toilet and was determined to replace the old one, no matter how gross the job.
By the time I got the old toilet free, hours had passed—the bolts had been very rusty—but Noah hadn’t texted back. That was okay. It was still early. He was probably just busy working, and when he saw my text, we would talk. Surely, he’d inherited that level head from his mother, right?
By four in the afternoon, there was still no reply. But the workday hadn’t ended. I wasn’t giving up hope just yet.
That is, until eight p.m. rolled around.
I decided to drive up to his house. His truck wasn’t there, so I sat on the porch in the rocking chair and played on my phone as the hours ticked by.
Around eleven p.m., my stomach ached with worry and dread.
What was going on? Was he okay?
