You, with a View
: Chapter 8

When I show up at Paul’s house on Saturday, I bring guests. Thomas and Sadie wanted to tag along to see the map and anything else Paul is prepared to show, and Paul was gracious enough to accept us all for an early lunch.

He opens the door with his signature sunny smile, stepping aside. “Come on in, kids. I’ve set us up on the deck again.”

I beam at him as Thomas and Sadie introduce themselves, though my stomach does a somersault. I’m revealing my plan today, and I have no idea what he’ll say.

It takes everything in me not to run for the back. I want to pore over Gram’s letters, and I need to take another look at the map. Maybe I’ll take a picture of it or—best-case scenario—borrow it so I can take it with me. I’d also like to get details of the originally planned trip from Paul so I can plot my days out. The clock is officially ticking.

I’m so caught up in my to-do list that Paul and Thomas end up at the front of the pack as we walk in. When we get to the living room, Thomas gestures to the gallery wall, coming to a halt. “Noelle wouldn’t stop talking about this after your visit. She said these are all your photographs.”

“They are indeed. I’ve been freelance, have worked with National Geographic and other publications you probably wouldn’t know. Took me all around the world for a time.”

“When did you slow down?” I ask.

Paul gazes at the wall. “When Theo was born. He’s my only grandchild, so I have a bit of an affinity for him.” My heart softens at the affection on Paul’s face as he continues, “I lived in Los Angeles from college on. My son, Sam—that’s Theo’s dad—moved up here when Theo was in junior high, and Theo’s uncle, Mark, and his husband left for Arizona about a decade ago, so for a time it was just Vera and me.”

Thomas smiles over at me, both impish and proud. “Noelle’s a photographer, too.”

I resist the urge to play it down or deny it altogether as Paul eyes me.

“I had a feeling. She told me she wasn’t.”

“I’m nowhere close to you,” I say, gesturing at the display before us. Somehow, my hand ends up pointing right at that childhood portrait of Theo, and I stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

Sadie weaves her arm through mine, shaking me gently. “You’re amazing.”

“She’s downplayed her talents, then,” Paul says with a sympathetic smile. Like he knows it’s an achy spot. I swallow and look down at Sadie’s long rainbow nails, bright and cheerful against my sun-starved skin.

“That sounds about right.” Thomas sticks his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “The funny thing is, when she was in high school, she wouldn’t shut up about all the things she was good at.”

“What’s truly funny,” Paul says, “is Teddy talked quite a bit about a very accomplished girl in high school. Now, it took me a bit of time to unravel all this after I met you last week, but I realized the name I always heard as Steph was actually Teddy talking about you and calling you Shep.”

My heart plops into my stomach. “I’m sorry, what? He talked about me in high school?”

Next to me, Sadie inhales with barely concealed delight, her fingers digging into my arm. She won’t let go of the idea that this is fate’s way of bringing me the love of my life.

Maybe I’d play along otherwise, but the idea of Theo being the love of my life—or even the love of one single month in my life—sends icy fingers dancing down my spine.

“Yes, indeed. Theo spent every summer with Vera and me—”

“Wow, the whole summer?” Thomas interjects.

Paul nods. “Since he was six. It was a deal I worked out with his parents. He came to us the week after school ended and left the week before it began.”

“That’s intense. I’m surprised his parents let him go.” I hold up my hands. “I mean, I’m sure it was great. It’s just a long time to be gone.”

“It was a good setup for everyone involved,” Paul says simply, his gaze moving back to Theo’s picture.

I always wondered where he went, though I pretended not to care. The momentum of the school year and all of the energy I expended to be the best—better than Theo—fizzled into a melancholic lack of direction during the summer. Sometimes I felt lost without something (or someone) to direct my ambitions toward.

Paul picks up the thread of the conversation, pulling me out of my memory. “At any rate, your name would come up during conversations about the school year. You played tennis as well?”

“Yes, I played number one singles on the girls’ team. Theo was the same on the boys’ team, but you probably knew that.”

Paul nods. “I was his number one fan. Always have been, even though I couldn’t make it up north to watch his matches but for every once in a blue moon.”

“Some people tried to organize a head-to-head match between Theo and Noelle their senior year to raise money for charity,” Thomas pipes up, “but the principal shut it down. He knew it would end in bloodshed.”

I toss him a glare. “That was the official story. I think Theo was afraid I’d win, and he paid Principal Reyes off. He still owes me a head-to-head match.”

“I actually would pay to watch that,” Thomas says. “As long as bloodshed was guaranteed.”

“Noelle would wipe the court with him,” Sadie says loyally. “Respectfully. She’s a beast on the court.”

Paul laughs, shaking his head. “I have no doubt it would be entertaining.” He sweeps an arm toward the sliding door. “Should we continue on with our current adventure? You and Teddy can discuss your match next time you see each other.”

I’m actually shocked he isn’t here now, although Paul did promise no more “mix-ups.”

I have to squeeze my brain like a fist to crush my curiosity about what he’s doing on such a beautiful Saturday morning. Is he still sleeping? Is he alone, or is there someone warming the other side of his bed?

Gah. Shut it down, Noelle.

I give Paul a carefree smile, towing Sadie with me. “Adventure time it is.”

Thomas and Sadie take the seats closest to the door, their backs to the house. They lean toward each other, heads bowed over the photographs I’ve already seen. Meanwhile, Paul digs through the box, presumably to grab the letters he promised we’d read.

I fiddle with a stack of photos, trying to figure out how to bring up the map. My plan. What I need from Paul. It’s possible he won’t care and say “here you go, good luck.” But it’s also possible he’ll think it’s odd, or he won’t approve. In that case, do I go? Will he still tell me the rest of the story? I don’t know how I’d feel going on their aborted honeymoon trip if I didn’t have his blessing. It’s a weird enough idea as it is.

Sadie keeps sliding me looks, then darting her eyes purposefully at Paul. I widen my eyes back at her, a clear invitation to chill out.

My clammy fingers wrap around a worn envelope with mementos—ticket stubs, old flyers from school, a note that Paul and Gram seemed to pass back and forth. I show it to him and he laughs softly.

“Even after we started dating, she wrote me notes in class.” His thumbs smooth over the wrinkled paper. “Probably trying to distract me into failure.”

“An elite tactic.” Wish I’d thought of that in high school, though I have no idea what I’d have distracted Theo with. Cassidy Bowman’s ass, maybe? God knows he looked at it enough.

A foot connects with my ankle under the table. “F—” I cut off my curse with a cough.

“Are you all right?” Paul asks, placing a hand on my back.

“Fine,” I croak out, communicating with a glare that I will murder Thomas when he least expects it. He mouths do it, though he’s talking about the map.

One corner of Paul’s mouth pulls up, revealing his dimple. “Another bug?”

My cheeks blaze as I remember how I reacted to a shirtless Theo. As I remember shirtless Theo, period. “Yeah, I guess they love me.”

Paul walks over to the corner of the deck, where a mini fridge is set up. Theo’s been busy this week. There are railing planters lining the perimeter of the deck, all filled with flowers and herbs, and the raised planters Theo was working on earlier this week are now filled with greenery, the soil black with fresh moisture.

All of this had to have taken more than one day; is his schedule that flexible? Seems a little unusual for a CFO.

Paul sets a bottle of water in front of each of us. We all murmur our thanks, then lapse into silence. For a full minute, the only sound is Paul humming to himself and the crinkle of paper as he shuffles through letters.

Thomas and Sadie are full-on staring at me now. My heart is pounding with purpose and anticipation, and anxiety, too.

My gaze locks with Thomas’s. He watches me with eyes the same color as Dad’s, and I remember the look in his eyes when I came up with this ridiculous plan. The hope there, and the happiness. Like I’m finally pulling myself out of whatever black pit I sank into when Gram died.

It’s not just that I want to go. It’s that everyone else wants me to. If this doesn’t work, it’ll be another failure. And in some way, it’ll feel like losing another piece of Gram, one I’ve regained since her death.

“Hey, Paul,” I say, licking my lips, my attention still tethered to my brother. Thomas nods, just once. There’s something like hope in his eyes, too.

“Yes?”

I turn, squinting up against the sun haloing Paul’s head. “Um, I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

He lowers himself into the chair at the head of the table, his expression open but touched with concern. “Of course, Noelle. What is it?”

“It’s about the map. Your honeymoon trip, actually.”

“All right,” he says slowly.

I open my mouth to just say it, but it gets stuck in my throat. I hate that I’ve become so afraid of not succeeding that even in this moment, I can’t go after what I want. “Would it be possible to look at it again?”

“Sure.” Paul pulls the box closer, tips it so he can look inside while seated. He pulls the map out and hands it to me.

Thomas and Sadie shift all of the various photos and mementos out of the way so I can lay the map flat. They don’t say anything, but Thomas moves a finger over the writing at the top, his expression turning solemn. Since Gram died, he’s shed his fair share of tears. She was the source of joy who lit us all up; the group text thread with my uncles’ families is an ongoing testament to that.

Paul’s chair creaks as he leans forward. His eyes lock onto mine. They’re Theo’s color but kinder, full of an emotion I feel echoing in the empty parts of my chest. He’s known grief, and he’s showing it to me.

I press my palm flat on the paper. “I want to go on this trip.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he recovers quickly. “Oh?”

I nod. “I’d love to borrow the map, but if you don’t want to part with it, I understand. So maybe I could take notes or pictures of it—”

“You can have it, Noelle,” he says gently.

“Oh. Wow, okay, thank you,” I stutter out. “Could you tell me what your plans were? There are lots of places circled here, but I’d love to know if there are certain things you wanted to do, so maybe I can do them, too.” I swallow, suddenly breathless with the weight of all of my emotions. Everything is sitting on my chest: relief, unbearable sadness, hope. All of them the same weight in different ways. “I’m going to take my camera. I’d love to take some of the pictures you would have. They won’t be as good as yours, obviously, but . . .” I lift my shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I think this might help. Nothing else has.”

Paul looks at me for a long moment, his eyes traveling over my face like I have my own map plotted out there. His fingers are intertwined, resting on the table between us. I fight the urge to reach across the table and cover his hands with mine, beg him to give me his blessing. Beg him to give me his stories before I go.

I hold my breath, my heart racing. I need this to work, for so many reasons all tangled up together.

His hands reach out to take mine, as if he knows I need the grounding touch. Finally, he says, “I have a better idea. Like I said, you can take the map. But I’d like you to take me, too.”