I fought back a gasp at his delivery. It was like we, along with Noah’s parents, had really put him out by having the accident occur at this time of night. What on earth?
Mr. James nodded to his wife to grab her purse, then turned back to us with the same borderline irritated tone he’d been using the whole time. “Bad business, this is. I told Steve he should have Diane drive or get a ride share, but there was never any reasoning with that man when he set his mind to something, as you well know. Hope you take after your mother in that regard.”
Noah jerked at that last statement. “Are you saying this accident was caused because my father was drunk?” he asked with more than a bit of incredulity.
Mr. James brushed that off. “Of course not. He’d had several scotches but wasn’t drunk. His reflexes might just have been better earlier in the night.”
Noah gave a bitter laugh. “Because then he could have avoided the tree that just jumped into his path? Jesus, they could have killed someone else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Noah.” Mrs. James was now involved and giving us a very disapproving look. “It was just bad luck. And with that, we really need to go. This was not how we thought we’d spend our evening. If you need anything, you know where we are. Let us know when the services are.” She tugged on her husband’s arm, but he still had something to say.
“Your parents were good people, and we are all worse off for this loss,” Mr. James said, sounding as emotional as an airport employee announcing what flights were arriving. I was sure he felt that social niceties called for a comment such as that. “Call if you need anything.” The words sounded hollow, and I knew they were not to be followed up on.
With that, they swanned out of the waiting room, and we stood frozen to the spot. All I could think was how Noah said Ivy would be the first to acknowledge that her parents were kinder than his. If that was true, what in the hell would his parents have been like? Jesus. I didn’t even know how to process it. His parents were gone, and he had just been told like it was a random fact in the evening along with the small matter that it sounded like the accident had been because they were careless enough to drive when they had been inebriated. Where did we even start?
I turned to Noah, who was staring at the wall. Slipping my arm around his waist, I moved until we were pressed togetherand pulled him to me in the tightest hug I could. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to his chest.
I felt his head dip until his mouth was on the crown of my head. He bent to get his mouth closer to my ear. “Thanks for being here, Jules.”
I tipped my head back to meet his gaze, noting the wetness of his eyes and wanting to squeeze comfort into this man and, at the same time, wondering how he and Ivy could come from cold and uncaring people like the two we had just met.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I said, knowing that was the absolute truth.
The next hour passed in a flurry of activity. We talked to the ER staff, the coroner, and the funeral home director where his parents had already paid for their final expenses. Apparently their wishes were to be cremated, and they had the urns and the niches where their ashes would remain already reserved and paid for. All that was set in motion, and Noah declined any type of visitation. There would be a graveside service on Friday, and he declared that would just have to work for all involved.
I watched him the whole time and could tell he was holding on by a thread. We’d left the hospital and were headed down darkened streets in an older area of Madison. The houses in this neighborhood, from what I could tell, dwarfed any that we’d see in Highland Falls.
“Where are we?” I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the fragile peace surrounding us but needing an understanding of what was next.
“My parents live—lived—in this village… Shorewood Hills.”
We were only ten or so minutes from the hospital, and I’d assumed we’d go to a hotel, but it looked like we weren’t done facing down all the demons tonight as Noah surely wouldn’t be able to escape the memories in his childhood home. That wasfine, that was why I was here—so he wouldn’t need to do this alone.
Noah turned in to the lane of one of the giant homes and pulled up to a circle drive where he parked in front of the house. Within moments the car was off, and yet he didn’t get out. His hands remained at ten and two as he stared off into the night sky before lowering his forehead to rest on the steering wheel.
“Noah? What can I do?”
He took in a slow, measured breath, then turned to meet my eyes, resting his left temple on the wheel. “I know it sounds too simple, but truly, you’re doing it. Thanks to you, I haven’t been alone.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough,” I whispered.
“It’s huge.” He reached over and squeezed my knee. “Let’s go in.”
I grabbed my bags after an argument with Noah about him taking them and followed him to the front door. The house was Tudor in style and far bigger than anything I’d want to live in. As we got to the lit vestibule by the door, I saw him flipping through keys on a ring, trying one after another. It was then I remembered the hospital giving him that ring in the items he was able to take from what his parents had. Which told me he hadn’t already had a key to their home. How often had he visited? At all? Had they been to Highland Falls? Had they met Addie? Somehow I knew the answer was no.
Questions swirled in my mind, but this was not the time. One rose up unbidden and didn’t stay locked down. “Is this where you grew up?” I couldn’t visualize a young Noah here, but what did I know.
“Got it,” he murmured, opening the front door and swiftly walking to the wall to type a code into an alarm system. “Hope they haven’t changed this code.” He finished and then turned to me with a small laugh. “The date my dad’s company went publicand he went from rich to filthy rich. Most important day of his life, as he told me often.” He shook his head.
“Wow.” What did I even say? The picture he was painting of these pivotal people in his life was not rosy, for certain, but every time I learned something new, my heart broke for Noah—child versionandthe adult before me—a little more.
“To answer your earlier question, yes, I did grow up here.” He reached for my hand and tugged me down the hall.
We left our bags at the bottom of a sweeping staircase and moved through a large living room to a wall of windows and doors on the back wall of the house.
“There wasn’t a lot I liked about living here. It wasn’t a relaxed space for a kid, much less loving, but we had some nice staff over the years, and we had this.”
He opened a door and stepped through to a large porch on the back of the house facing… some type of water. I was so turned around; I had no idea what it was… A river? Lake? Pond? Whatever it was, it was beautiful to look at now in the filtered light from the moon, and I was sure it would be gorgeous during the day.
