Page 71 of Season of Love

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“I think I fucked up,” Noelle said instead of answering, swinging her legs off the chair and rearranging herself so she was upright. “With Miriam, I mean.”

Hannah squatted down, her hands on Noelle’s knees. “Oh, I knew what you meant. And I am absolutely certain that you fucked up. Big big.”

She’d been hoping Hannah would tell her she’d been entirely right and justified and had not, as Noelle feared, possibly thrown away the only person she’d ever wanted to spend the rest of her life with. But Hannah never lied to her.

“I super unfairly accused her of something really shitty. I got mad at her for a completely natural reaction to the abuse she suffered all her life. She was standing there telling me all the reasons she is the way she is, and I couldn’t even see how much courage that took. What did I expect, she would magically overcome twenty-five years of abuse because she tried hard enough?”

Hannah nodded sadly. “She got all her old buttons pushed, some of them by you, which pushed all your old buttons, and it kind of set off a chain of dominoes. Neither of you was acting out of your higher selves, just old toxic fight-or-flight patterns. You fight, she flies.”

Noelle hung her head, and Hannah ran her fingernails through Noelle’s hair, scratching her scalp in slow circles and grounding her. Fuck. What would she do without Hannah?

“I didn’t trust her, and I chose not to see all the ways she’s already changed. I got scared and blew up.” Noelle felt like she’d been running a marathon, trying to get her compassionate brain to outrun her fear and distrust.

“I mean, yes, but also, you are in the middle of incomparable grief, and not reacting the way you might otherwise,” Hannah pointed out. “Neither is she. We did just lose our North Star, and none of us is over that.”

“I gotta do something so I don’t act like this again.”

Hannah nodded. “There’s a pack of little old lady alcoholics who probably have some ideas. But yeah, none of us can just muscle through losing Cass and pretend it’s not affecting every single thing we do, or that we’ll be okay if we just keep going.”

“I can’t cry about Cass right now,” Noelle said, shaking herself off. “I will be all blotchy faced for the party, which I’m already going to be late to because of my hair. What am I going to do? About Miriam?”

“Talk to each other, like two grown-ups. Remember that there’s a gray area between ‘We had a fight’ and ‘We can never be together as long as we live.’ Schedule sessions with a counselor or a rabbi. I know a great one. Tell her you were wrong and listen to her.”

“You make it sound simple.”

Hannah threw back her head and laughed. “It’s going to be hard as hell. You’ve both got scars that go all the way down. You make each other better, and you set off each other’s landmines. It’s not going to tie up in a neat little bow. But if there are any two people I’m an expert in, it’s you and Miriam Blum, and I believe you can do it, and you’ll both be fools if you don’t try.”

If Hannah was going to make her talk about her feelings, it was only fair to return the favor. “Since you’ve apparently solved my love life, are you ready to talk about how the love ofyourlife is apparently on an Australian TV show right now?” Noelle asked.

“NOPE.” Hannah shook her head so hard her braid whipped Noelle in the back. “I want to get you into a tux, save the farm, and get you back your girl.” She pulled Noelle out of the work shed, into the cold.

“We’re going to talk about this. Don’t think you can avoid it forever,” Noelle said, following her back up to the house.

She was already late. There was an alarming number of audaciously rich people in sequins milling around looking at her trees. She hoped this meant the auction would be a success. For an event they’d planned in five days, Noelle could barely believe how many people had arrived, and how totally the inn’s regular guests had embraced the party. New Year’s Eve at Carrigan’s had never been quiet, because Cass never let an occasion for excess pass unfulfilled, but this year, the mood was frenetic.

All the Christmas trees in the main house had been replaced by displays of Miriam’s art. Guests were being shown through the first floor by Mrs. Matthews before being escorted to the party in the barn. Hannah had disappeared to play hostess.

Noelle slipped past everyone, trying to get to her room without being waylaid by too many well-meaning well-wishers. She was on a mission, and that mission was: look hot enough to distract Miriam into talking to her for however long Noelle needed to apologize, grovel, beg forgiveness, and vow to do better.

And also save the farm. Probably somewhere in there, they should save the farm.

In her room, Noelle found herself taken back to the morning of Cass’s funeral. Like that day, she freshened up the buzzed side of her hair, fastened her cufflinks, slipped into dress shoes.

That morning, she’d thought a part of her life was ending and nothing would ever fill the void Cass had left. When she’d tucked a comb into the back pocket of her funeral slacks, Noelle hadn’t known that she would meet an infuriating, mesmerizing elf who would change her entire internal landscape. Somehow, in the midst of one of the saddest and most difficult times in her life, she’d become lit with hope for the future, excited for every tomorrow in a way she’d never thought she would be again.

Tonight, as she folded her pocket square and tied her bow tie, she was prepared. Noelle knew that the next time she saw her wild-haired chaos elf, her life was going to change again, for better or worse.

God, she hoped for better.

If getting to her room had been a minefield of distractions, getting to the barn was a labyrinth of people she couldn’t avoid, no matter how much she needed to find Miriam before the auction. Once it started, the Bloomer Face would be on, all her performative defenses up, and she would belong to the crowd. Noelle needed to get to her first, so Miriam knew how loved she was, that she wasn’t facing this all alone.

As she crept past the kitchen, Mr. Matthews appeared carrying a tray loaded with apps, startling her.

“You going to fix things with my girl?” he grunted at her.

She couldn’t ignore Mr. Matthews. “I’m going to try, if I can get to her.”

“You’d better. I already have one kid who ruined things because he couldn’t get his head out of his ass. I don’t need two of you.”


Tags: Helena Greer Romance