“Congratulations. On the sobriety. That’s a big deal, and it’s amazing,” Miriam said.
Noelle shuffled her feet in discomfort. “Yeah. It’s pretty great.”
Miriam tried to absorb this new information about Noelle. She had so many questions. She wanted to know everything about Noelle, her whole past and what made her tick. She tried to remind herself again that, while their short acquaintance loomed large in her consciousness, she had no real claim to Noelle’s secrets.
“I shouldn’t be having this conversation on top of a ladder,” Miriam said, climbing slowly down. Noelle waited until she was at the bottom to continue.
“Nothing I said was fair, or true. I had you pegged wrong.” Noelle took her hands out of her pockets, tried to stuff them into her hair, found her hat, huffed, and crossed her arms. It was cute—and distracting.
“Over the past few weeks, getting to know you, it’s become excruciatingly obvious you’re a lot more than I first judged you for.” She sounded gruff, and still pained, like she was uncomfortable having this conversation and couldn’t quite figure out how to say what she wanted to. Miriam realized that earlier, she might not have been damning with faint praise—she might have been trying to start this conversation and not finding the right words.
Maybe she wasn’t still mad at Miriam. Maybe she just sucked at apologies.
“Even if you weren’t,” Noelle continued, “I had no right to talk to you that way. Can I make it up to you?” She stared at Miriam and waited.
For several heartbeats Miriam stared back.
“Why are you telling me this, now?” she finally asked.
“Other than my sponsor chewing me out for not apologizing earlier? I feel like a complete monster every time you try too hard to show me you belong here. You shouldn’t have to. Cass wanted you to stay. Hannah and the Matthewses want you to. You don’t need to prove anything to me.” Her shoulders rose around her ears.
“I need to be really explicitly crystal clear, because I don’t like guessing how people feel about me. Are you telling me right now that you don’t hate me?” Miriam said carefully, feeling foolish.
“I don’t hate you. I don’t know you that well, but I kind of understand why Hannah, Cass, and the Matthewses think highly of you. You’re fine. You have several positive qualities.” Noelle ducked her head, and Miriam wanted to laugh. She truly wasn’t great at this, which somehow made Miriam feel much better.
“You don’t think I’d drive the business into the ground?” Miriam asked.
“You know you wouldn’t drive the business into the ground. Or further into the ground. You have a killer social media marketing game, and you know a hell of a lot about bookkeeping.”
Miriam nodded. She did have those skills. “You really don’t mind if I stay?”
“I know you have a lot to think about,” Noelle said gruffly, not making eye contact. “Your business, your life, your engagement. Whatever your decision is, don’t let how I’m going to feel about it stand in your way. You might be good for Carrigan’s. You should decide if Carrigan’s would be good for you.”
Noelle turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. “It’s like Sleeping Beauty.”
Miriam tilted her head in confusion.
“What you said, before. You were sleeping, in a castle. And you were behind all these obstacles, to keep yourself from waking up,” Noelle said, her hands in her pockets and her shoulders hunched. She kicked at a rock instead of making eye contact with Miriam.
Miriam almost cried. Yes, that’s exactly what it was like.
“And now I have to decide whether to stay awake or go back to sleep,” Miriam said, lightbulbs going off inside her.
“Can you? Go back to sleep? What did Rumi say? You must ask for what you want. Don’t go back to sleep.”
“Noelle Northwood, did you just quote Rumi to me?” Miriam was going to swoon. Actually, literally swoon.
“I’m wide, I contain multitudes.” Noelle shrugged, her face smug.
“RumiandWhitman? Show-off.” Miriam was grinning, and she’d been painting, and her heart was flying. Noelle was right. She didn’t know if she could ever go back to sleep.
Noelle’s expression sobered. “Hey, now that we’re square, can I ask you a totally inappropriate question that’s none of my business?”
“Ah, the Cass Carrigan special. Sure,” Miriam nodded, wondering what Noelle might want to know about her.
“What is the deal with your fiancée? You never talk about her, even as it relates to moving here. Wouldn’t you both be pretty heartbroken?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Miriam started, trying to decide how specific to get. “We get along well, and we each have things the other needs. She needs a society wife, and I need financial stability. We keep each other company and her family leaves her alone about getting married. We’re, I don’t know, friends with benefits, but some of the benefits are tax-deductible. We’re not in love. We never have been.”