You, With a View(94)

He takes my silence for what it is: a request to keep talking. “I don’t remember the exact wording because it was a while ago and my mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“Yeah, right,” I scoff, laughing soggily.

The amusement in his voice is clear as he continues. “I told her all about Teddy—how smart he was, how focused even at five. But more important than that, how much he smiled. How loving he was.”

I push back my hair, looking at him. He’s watching me closely.

“I’ve seen that five-year-old boy for the past several weeks, even with his unfortunate work situation,” he says. “I watched you two grow closer every day and build something that is very special. I know it feels hard when he tries to push away, but what you have is worth holding on to.”

It’s such an echo of what my dad said that it stuns me. Let go or hold on.

“He doesn’t trust me,” I whisper.

“He trusts you. He doesn’t trust that what you have won’t be taken away from him.” He shakes his head. “If this is worth it to you, Noelle, then be patient with our boy. It takes him three times as long to admit to his own happiness because he never knew he was allowed to have it.”

The words sink between us, wrapping around my heart, which hasn’t stopped aching in days.

“Okay,” I say finally. It’s a promise I don’t know if I can keep. It’s worth it to me, but is it worth it to Theo? I still don’t have that answer.

Paul moves us on to other, less wrought subjects, plying me with coffee and cookies. By the time I stand to leave, the sun is hanging low in the sky.

“I didn’t mean to stay so late,” I say as we walk to the front door. “I’m leaving for Tahoe tomorrow to work with that resort, so I need to pack.” I give him a wry grin. “Again.”

“Will you let me know how it goes?”

I pause at the threshold. “Is that okay? Even if things don’t work out with Theo?”

He gives me a look, pulling me in for a final hug. “You were hers,” he whispers. “So, now you’re mine, too.”

I’m so busy crying as I drive down the street that I nearly miss the flash of red turning the corner. But then I see—it’s Theo behind the wheel of Betty, headed toward Paul’s. Our eyes meet through our windshields, and electricity arcs between us. I’m so flustered that my foot stomps the gas, and I lurch past him. I don’t slow down, but watch in my rearview mirror to see if he’ll stop. He doesn’t, so I don’t either. It feels like my heart is attached to his bumper; it pulls and pulls as his taillights move further away.

Then I turn the corner and he’s gone.

When I pull into my parents’ driveway, there’s a text waiting for me. It’s from Theo.

I want to be the person you said you need.

I wipe at my cheeks, searching for what to say. In the end, it’s simple: You already are, Spencer. I just need you to trust that. And me.

I wait for his response, but it doesn’t come.





Thirty-One





Thank you so much for everything, Noelle,” Eunice, the resort’s marketing director, says as she ushers me back into the lobby. “I can’t wait to see the final product. The shots you just shared are beautiful.”

“It’s not hard to do when you’re working with a view like this.” I gesture out the floor-to-ceiling window, which looks out to a massive deck, a sparkling pool, and beyond that, the towering trees and craggy mountains that make Lake Tahoe so picturesque.

“Seriously, though.” She pushes her black bangs out of her eyes. “When I tell you my boyfriend and I stayed glued to our phones while you were traveling, I’m not exaggerating. We fell in love with your story, and your photography is so captivating. Not to mention your social engagement is phenomenal, so you were an easy sell to my boss.”

I’ve read comments saying similar things, but to hear it in person is wild. I’ll have to pinch myself later when no one’s around. This day has been surreal.

I wish I could share it with Theo. Yesterday he texted me: good luck in Tahoe, Shep. You’re going to blow them away. I sent him a shot of the sunset falling behind a thick copse of trees, but only got a hearted picture in return.

Blinking away from the memory, I say, “That’s really nice, thank you. I had such a great day with you.”

“Right back at you. You’ve been a rock star.” Glancing down at her watch, Eunice frowns. “I have to get going, but I wanted to check with you about something. It’s half business, half personal.”

“Of course.”

“I have a friend in San Francisco who’s opening up a coffee shop. He’s looking for someone to shoot his space and menu for all his social platforms,” she says. “I’m not sure what your schedule is like, but would it be okay if I passed your information over to him?”

I work hard to keep my cool, getting out a “Yes, that’d be great.”

Meanwhile, inside my body there are firecrackers going off and car alarms blaring. That I could have a potential job as I’m finishing this one is . . .

It’s everything I was too afraid to reach for before. Theo’s voice echoes in my head, smug and proud: I told you so. I’d give anything to hear it in person.