I stare at my shoes while I wait for his response, and it doesn’t come fast enough. Peyton cuts in, “Is this about Noah?”
I stare off past him, because I don’t even know if it is. It’s partly about him, but more about me. “Maybe.”
Dad shakes his head while dabbing his temples with the corner of the towel, his lips pinched tightly. Against my better judgment, I ask his opinion, “What do you think?”
“I think . . .” He pauses to roll his towel lengthwise and wraps it around the back of his neck as he raises his gaze to mine. “I think that boy’s trouble, but I can see by the spark in your eye that you’re going to love him anyway.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I offer a weak shrug before I add, “But I think I need to find out for myself.”
With that, I spin on my heel and exit the gym with an extra pep in my step. Time to book another Airbnb in Mapleton. I have an event to go to this weekend.
fifteen
Noah
Nobody can ever accuse Bill of not loving his team or his community.
It’s Saturday, right before noon, but that doesn’t mean the sun is shining. It’s gray and overcast, with a light wind dancing through the air. I wag my head as I help Bill—per his insistence—drag a twenty-foot inflatable slide to the center of the town square. He rented the entire park, invited every food vendor he knows, hired a band, and even brought in a petting zoo. He also assigned each member of Granite Ice a game booth to work. He ran out of game booths by the time he got to me, so I got roped into the inflatables.
Despite all this fun, the only thing I can think about is Paisley and why I didn’t try to stop her from leaving. Anxiety attack or not, I was a jerk for not helping her when she was afraid. Even though it turned out to be Bill, she still doesn’t know that. She might still be afraid someone dangerous is coming for her.
In addition to that, I haven’t had time to deal with Bill or even process how messed up what he did was, but that hasn’t stopped him from acting like he owns me. When we have the slide spread out, I grab the security strap closest to me and call to him, “Did you bring the stakes?”
“Ah, I’m letting Red Barn Kabobs handle those.” His lips bend up at his joke, but his gaze is down, as he’s focused on plugging the air compressor hose into the slide.
“Ha ha.” I fake laugh, giving him time to get over his own joke.
He pats his coat pocket. “I must have left them in the trailer.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder back to the parking lot. “Want to run and grab them?”
“I can . . .” I pause and watch Bill crank on the air compressor, the sound filling the space between us, drowning out the warning I was going to give him about waiting to fill the slide until it’s properly grounded.
I sigh, letting it go.
This is Bill I’m talking to.
He does things his own way—the hard way.
The best use of my time is to get the stakes as quickly as possible. I spin on my heel and jog back through the game booths that are already filled with kids.
As I head back, a steady stream of families, couples, and even teens filter into the park. Everyone is laughing and enjoying the day. I admit I was dreading today—as it’s an awful lot of work to throw a carnival—but now that everything is coming together, I can’t help but feel proud to be a small part of it.
I scan the parking lot for Bill’s truck and trailer and I find it backed up against the sidewalk. I pick up my pace and scurry over. Unlocking the back, I find the stakes all tie wrapped together on the floor. That’s easy enough. I grab them and turn to hustle back.
As I cut back through the thickening crowd, a sense of nostalgia washes over me. Memories of my childhood spent playing in this park, specifically hockey on the pond when it was frozen, flood back. I pause in front of the little pond. Kids skate in circles, passing a hockey puck back and forth to Jackson, who got put on pond hockey duty. It’s cute to see the kids swing their sticks back and slam the pucks as hard as they can to Jackson, who pretends to miss each goal. He lets out fake animated sighs of disappointment. The kids all pile around him, each one beaming with a full smile.
Across the pond, Axl and Sophie are crossing the park with arms linked together, coming this way. They make me think of Paisley. It would be fun to experience this with her. I take a deep breath, savoring how I can easily do that again now that my meds are finally working.
It’s funny how I had started to think this team was lame, but when I’m forced to take a step back and look at the big picture, this team and what it does for the community is pretty amazing. I bite my bottom lip, now seeing that my feelings of apprehension had nothing to do with the team, or even Bill. It had everything to do with my desire not to feel as if my life was out of my control.
“Hey.” Axl jogs up next to me, nodding toward the pond. “Think you can take on those kids?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a chuckle. “They aren’t going easy on Jackson.”
Axl snickers while his face takes a more neutral expression. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh, yeah?” I pull my gaze away from the kids to Axl. The sounds of sticks slamming against the pucks echo in the distance. “What about?”
“It’s about my apartment.” He nods across the street at the old building. “As you know, Sophie and I are getting married.We found a house we want to buy outside of town on five acres. I stupidly renewed my lease a couple of months ago. I was wondering if there’s any way you’d want to sublet it.” His expression takes on a mischievous smile. “Unless you like living with Bill?”
