A Mom For Christmas. Lorraine Beatty
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refuse. “Of course. Just let me know.”
“Thank you. Oh, and would you see that Noah gets one of these posters for his office window when he comes in?”
“Of course.” Beth said goodbye, then returned to the desk and sank down in the chair. It might be fun to get involved with the production. But how would she feel being in a theater, knowing she might never dance professionally again? No. It would be safer to keep her focus on her recovery.
She was doing all she could, following her doctor’s and physical therapist’s advice to the letter. She was eating right, getting plenty of rest and doing her exercises faithfully. Each morning she did her exercises and a full ballet warm-up in the small studio her father had built for her when she was a child. Each day she pushed just a little harder, stretched a tiny bit farther, but always wearing her brace and careful not to overdo. She believed in her heart that if she worked hard enough and long enough, she could recapture the life she had before.
But what if the doctors were right, and she was lying to herself? That question lay like a shard of ice in her chest that never went away.
She glanced out the window and saw Noah unlocking the door to his office. Picking up the poster, she followed him inside. “Your gram left this for you to put in your window. I have one, too.”
He scanned the colorful announcement with a shake of his head. “She got it into her head to start the little theater up again.”
“You don’t sound pleased about that.”
He shrugged. “If it makes her happy...”
“She asked me to help out with the dancers. Apparently her instructor is moving away.”
Noah held her gaze, his mouth in a tight line. “I suppose you jumped at the chance.”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Really.” He rested his hands on his hips. “What’s holding you back? Too busy selling real estate? Or is little theater beneath you? Going from principal dancer to small town choreographer is quite a comedown.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“Not if it’s true.”
The hurt tone in his voice made her stop and study him more closely. “Noah, what happened to you? To us? We were close friends. We always supported each other. I was going to be the famous dancer, and you were going to design architectural wonders.”
Noah sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest. “I figured out pretty quick I didn’t have the imagination needed to be a successful architect. I was better suited for engineering. Numbers and equations. Things that are always solid and predictable.” He stood and went around the desk. “I learned to look at the future more realistically.” He faced her, his blue eyes cold. “I learned a lot that year. Like who my real friends were, and who could be depended on and who couldn’t.”
“We used to depend on each other.”
“I thought so—until you ran off to New York and never looked back. I guess friendship didn’t count as much as pursuing your career.”
How could she make him understand? “I had no choice. The call came in, and I had to be in New York the next day to begin rehearsing. My mom and I were running around packing, trying to make plane reservations. It was hectic.”
“Too hectic to find a second to call your friend and share the good news?”
His barb made a direct hit. “I meant to call you and explain.”
Noah’s gaze searing into hers. “When? The next day? The next week? I had to find out about you joining the ballet company in the newspaper.” He worked his jaw, his eyes dark. “That’s how much our friendship meant to you.”
“It meant a great deal to me. But I didn’t think it meant much to you.”
“I waited in the gazebo until midnight for you to show up. I called you a dozen times. I finally called your house and talked to one of your brothers, but all they knew was that something had come up and you and your mom had left.”
Her heart sank. They’d agreed to meet that evening at the gazebo to exchange gifts. Noah was leaving for the summer semester at Mississippi State the next morning. She hadn’t shown up at the gazebo because after he’d rebuffed her affections earlier in the day, she’d wanted to avoid him. It had been easy to dismiss that night amid all the rush to leave. Is that what was behind his attitude? Her failure to show up to say goodbye?
“I’m sorry, Noah, I was so busy. You know how crushed I was when I wasn’t chosen after my audition. This sudden opening with the company was the answer to my dreams.”
Noah worked his jaw from side to side. “And your dream trumped a casual friendship. I get it. We all have priorities, and I learned yours that night.” He stood. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Without a word, he walked to the back office, leaving her alone, a hundred questions swirling in her mind.
Seated at her desk again, Beth replayed the events of that last day with Noah. She couldn’t tell him how heartbroken and embarrassed she’d been by his rejection. It wasn’t his fault she’d read too much in to their friendship. She couldn’t remain friends and pretend to be happy when he found someone else.
And he had. She’d heard through her mother that he’d abruptly transferred from Mississippi State to Stanford and married a year later. Proving once and for all his heart had never been hers. Her last thin strand of hope had died. It hadn’t been a misunderstanding. He truly hadn’t loved her.
With her mother out of the office, Beth tried to work, but her gaze kept wandering to Noah’s office. He never appeared again. He was either really busy in the back room, or he’d slipped out the back door to avoid seeing her.
A lump formed in her throat. Noah had been more than a friend. He’d been her strong shoulder, her soft place to fall. The man she’d loved. But she’d never told him that. She’d always worried that to do so would ruin the special bond between them. When she’d finally found the courage to open her heart, he’d been embarrassed and uncomfortable. He’d made it clear that the words of love she’d had engraved on the small key chain she’d given him weren’t welcome.
A sudden contradiction formed in her mind. If Noah had no feelings for her back then, why was he still so upset that she’d left town without telling him? His bristly attitude and his cutting comments didn’t sound like someone who had forgotten the past. They sounded like someone who still carried the pain.
What that meant, she had no idea. In the past, if she was confused about something, she would go to Noah and discuss it with him. No subject was off limits. But now, when she was so confused, he was the last person she could turn to. The realization stung.
She had to find a way to repair their relationship because being at odds with Noah hurt more deeply than she’d thought possible.
* * *
Noah’s encounter with Beth wore on his nerves like a pebble in his shoe. Thankfully, his job with the city had kept him busy all afternoon doing structural inspections, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he owed her an apology. He’d been rude and hurtful. What had happened, or not happened, between them was in the past. Beth had a right to live her life. Just because seeing her again stirred up old emotional wounds wasn’t her fault. He needed to recommit to his original plan. Stay away. Keep his distance. Then everything would be fine.
The tension in the kitchen was as thick as soup when he arrived home that night. Gram was at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot with vigor. Chloe was hunched up in the sunroom, her thumbs flying over her cell phone. He debated which female to approach first. Gram seemed less threatening.
He moved to the stove and looked down at the contents of the pot. “So did the sauce talk back to you, or was it Chloe?”
She huffed out