“Is that a yes, Miri?” Noelle gasped, out of breath, her pupils blown out.
“Yes! Obviously yes. Where is the bed?” Miriam asked desperately.
Noelle grinned. “It’s up in the loft.”
“Well, get your ass up there and get out of those clothes,” Miriam demanded.
They chased each other up the staircase, which did seem remarkably sturdy, and fell, laughing, on the mattress on the floor, piled with pillows. Noelle rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand.
“Do you like it?” she asked again, seriously.
“I love it,” Miriam answered, sliding a hand up under the hem of Noelle’s henley, so she could feel her skin. “I love you. Immensely. Overwhelmingly.”
Noelle crawled over her and pinned her hands to the bed, looking down at the mass of curls spread out over the pillows. One of the body pillows yawned and moved out of the way with a huffy yowl.
“Oh yeah, Kringle is living with us, too,” Noelle said. “He was disturbing the guests, and Hannah said she was going to ship him to Siberia if we didn’t take him in.”
“He can stay as long as hegoes downstairs,” Miriam said to him, sternly. He went, switching his tail in annoyance as he disappeared down the staircase.
“Is this it?” Miriam asked, her body bowing up to meet Noelle’s. “Can we finally just get naked and enjoy each other, and live in our home surrounded by our family and be in love? Can we relax for ten minutes without a financial crisis, or some dude exploding our peace, or, I don’t know, a roof caving in?”
“Well, we have a family reunion coming next week, so none of us is relaxing anytime soon,” Noelle said. “And the roof in the cottage is in fact leaking, which we’ll need to deal with ASAP. Probably at some point some dude is going to appear and make drama, even if it’s just Cole. But all of it will happen in our home, surrounded by our family. And, in the meantime, we should very much get naked and enjoy each other. Finally.”
They did, repeatedly.
In between they whispered about dreams they had. They talked about trips they wanted to take, to see Noelle’s family in Santa Fe, and some of her old friends from her sustainable farming days, to antique markets around the world. They could, if they wanted, go through old napkins from Cass and then drink coffee in the same cafes she’d visited, see if anyone recognized Miriam’s face and, if so, listen to their stories about the whirlwind of a woman in a turban who’d come through their lives for a season, years ago.
Miriam and Noelle held hands under the weight of a returned, and immoveable, Kringle, talking into the night about going to therapy together, about what they might do if, or more rightly when, Richard resurfaced, and how to face it together. They talked about their worries for Hannah and Cole, and how to keep themselves from interfering too badly in their best friends’ love lives. They put Dolly on the Bluetooth speakers Noelle had installed and sang at the top of their lungs, because they weren’t inside the inn and no one could complain.
In the witching hour, Miriam stole downstairs to the studio, running her hands over half-finished pieces she’d started in Charleston and would finish here. She lovingly patted her chain saw and her industrial-size glue barrels. The eerie moonlight, under which she’d painted La Llorona, revealed something she hadn’t seen before.
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Noelle had stenciled on the giant windows. Miriam’s knees gave out underneath her, and she sat on the floor, weeping.
She didn’t know how long it would take her to get used to feeling this happy or being this open and present with the people she loved. She didn’t know how long it would take for the voice in the back of her head to stop telling her to run away, shut down, and not risk all of this. She knew it was going to be a lot of work and being in love with Noelle wasn’t going to cure everything that was broken inside her. Not even Carrigan’s was that magical. But in the deepest part of her, in the marrow of her bones, Miriam believed she belonged here, that she deserved to be happy and home.
She was going to fight for this. To run Shenanigans with Hannah, to fight with Blue when he finally got here, to learn to braid challah from Mrs. Matthews and light Shabbos candles with Mr. Matthews. She was going to stay, be planted, and grow roots. She was going to make Noelle Northwood happy beyond her wildest dreams.
And she was going to cover so many Christmas trees in glitter.
Epilogue
The week of Passover came to Carrigan’s cold and bright.
Work on Carrigan’s All Year had continued frantically. Every month had events that put Carrigan’s front and center: writers’ retreat weekends, summer camp field trips, collaborations with several town councils to host fundraisers. The wall-sized calendar in Hannah’s office was color coded to within an inch of its life. All three women felt hopeful about the year, with the caveat that (a) one of their core group had disappeared down under and (b) their fourth shareholder was still unseen.
“Does anyone else notice that the men have conveniently disappeared in the middle of the real, sustained work?” Noelle asked during their weekly business meeting.
“Mr. Matthews is working his ass off on the plumbing in the cottage as we speak,” Miriam told her.
“We pay him,” Noelle said.
“Not enough,” Miriam retorted.
Hannah was smiling at the two most important women in her life and feeling very satisfied about everything when she felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly, startling Noelle and Miriam. She was never the person who ended business meetings before every agenda item had been crossed off.