Page 42 of Sharing Noelle

"Sure," I say. "Why not? Let's throw a bomb-ass party.”

My dad claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll tell Antonio he’s on firewood duty. Oh, and you’re catering, by the way.”

Over the next three days, my dad, Noelle, and Frida’s grandsons, Rico and Miguel, work their asses off to prepare the barn for guests. The task proves bigger than my dad expected when the heating system breaks down and he has to call in a specialist. On top of all the manual labor, Noelle is constantly on the phone with suppliers, checking on deliveries and comparing pricing.

As for me, the only time I’m not in the kitchen is when I’m passed out in bed. It’s been a while since I worked catered events, so I keep the menu simple and consistent. Flavors and ingredients that marry well and carry over from dish to dish.

The three of us manage to find a few quiet moments to be together the morning before my mom and Richard are set to arrive. It’s a bittersweet union. My dad and I will have to move back into our own rooms for the next few days, so we take our time with Noelle. One of us licking and sucking her nipples or her clit while the other one fucks her.

Mom and Richard pull up to the lodge the evening of December thirtieth. Noelle greets them at the desk, checks them in, then gives them directions to the honeymooner cabin. I can sense the tension in Noelle’s body, in her strained smile, from the moment they arrive. After they drop off their bags and get settled, they come back to the lodge for dinner, which is basically a tasting of all the things I plan to serve at tomorrow night’s party.

“The mini quiches are delightful,” my mom says. “Don’t you think so, honey?”

Richard grunts. He’s had a stick up his ass since they got here. I can tell my dad isn’t the least bit impressed; he offered Richard the cheap beer.

“The pepperoni’s salty,” Richard says.

“It’s chorizo,” I tell him. “I can use ground sausage instead, if you’d prefer.”

“No, I like this,” my mom says, wiping her fingers on a napkin. “What’s next?”

“Whipped-artichoke crostini with crispy garlic and basil.” As I lower the next plate to the table, I catch my dad studying my mom like he’s trying to see what he saw in her all those years ago. He gives up pretty quick.

“I can’t believe you came up with all these dishes in just a few days,” she says.

Richard crunches down on a crostini. “That is his job, isn’t it?”

“Sous chefs don’t usually create the menu,” I say. “Plus, I quit my job a few days before Christmas.”

Richard smirks to himself like he’s just won an argument. My mom fills her mouth with food. I couldn’t give two shits what Richard thinks of my employment status. But Noelle flinches, like she’s experiencing the embarrassment for me. I smile at her so she knows I’m not the least bit phased by her dad’s underhanded digs.

Noelle reaches for a mini quiche and accidentally bumps her glass of apple cider, spilling some over the sides.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” she says. “My mind is in a hundred different places right now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” my dad says.

Without thinking, I move in to help her clean up the spill. My dad reaches over at the same time, lifting her glass so I can soak up the puddle.

My dad’s the first to notice my mom staring at us with a curious expression. “We’ve all been working hard these past few days to prepare for tomorrow.”

“It’s a shame my daughter can’t channel the same amount of effort into her schoolwork,” Richard says.

My dad’s jaw twitches. I feel my mom’s appraising gaze sweep across the three of us, and I kick myself for jumping to Noelle’s aid so quickly. But at the same time, it’s not like I had a choice. No way am I just gonna sit here and watch her clean up her own mess while her stomach’s obviously in knots.

I grab a fresh glass and pour Noelle another cup of cider.

“Thank you,” she says, flashing me a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it.”

“You guys are too cute,” my mom says, with way too much emphasis on the wordstooandcute. “Is there something going on between you two?”

My pulse jumps about twenty feet.

“What?” Noelle says too quickly. “No, why?”

“I’m just getting a vibe,” my mom says, gesturing between us. “In fact, the three of you seem to have grown pretty close over the holiday.”

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