The smell of burned garlic slips under my nostrils as I say it. Noa catches it as well, muttering as she shoves me out of the way like a football defenseman and yanks the wooden spoon from my grip.
She says, “Not if you can’t cook garlic.”
The best decision would be to agree with Noa that I shouldn’t accompany her. I make smart decisions all the time.
Yet, the angry flush to her cheeks and her tangled hair—hair I want to tangle with my own hands—has me going in an entirely different direction.
“I refuse to let that blasted pan be your answer to my kitchen skills. You two have been enough of a distraction for me to have burned boiled water by now.”
Noa lifts her head, meeting my eyes for the first time since I wandered—naively—into the kitchen. “Do you even want to do this? This is acouple’sclass, and we are so far away from that it’s almost laughable.”
Though her matter-of-fact assessment of our relationship status digs into long-forgotten places inside my body. “I didn’t know I was allowed an opinion on the subject.”
Ma scoffs. “Don’t be such a martyr, son. You have nothing better to do except tuck tail out of California.”
“Ma,” I say, a little offended.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to.” Now it’s Ma’s turn to use a slitty-eyed glare. “You have not been actinglike the boy I raised. I’d like to think it was California influence that did this to you, but we both know it’s not. This is a time for you to rediscover your roots and get the town back in your blood, a town you’ve rightly disgraced.”
Noa discreetly turns down the stove and backs away.
“Noa,” I say after a beat of silence. “Would you mind?”
“No problem.” Noa doesn’t put forth any argument, sticking to edges as she leaves the room to give us privacy.
A foreign flame licks at my cheeks. I check to see if Noa really turned down the gas burners, but I know it’s not that. This is coming from an internal place, an area of puberty and hard lessons and making dumb mistakes while growing up. It’s a part of me only my mother could locate, grab, and yank through my throat.
“I love you, I always will,” she says. “You have my whole heart. If you truly want to prove to the public, and most of all yourself, that you are a man to be admired, you will do this for me.”
“It’s a cooking class,” I say between my teeth. It’s a low tone, non-threatening, but angry.
“I’m well aware of what it is,” Ma retorts. “And I had every intention of attending it with Noa until recent weeks have proven to me I simply don’t have the energy for it anymore. She deserves this, son, regardless of what she says. An opportunity like this never comes into this town. If Noa refuses to leave Falcon Haven, then this is it for her. And it’s mostly for her, let me tell you, not you. You reap the benefit of being in the middle of Falcon Haven so people can see you’re still the boy I raised, helping a girl he scandalized get on her feet.”
PuttingNoaandscandalin the same sentence turns the shame in my throat into a curdle. I talk through it, mostly because I can’t stand ruminating on our past for too long. “I’mnot here to make waves, and it’s fairly obvious Noa doesn’t want me near her any more than she has to endure me.”
“She’s earned that right.” Ma straightens in her stool, lacing her fingers together.
“Whose side are you on, exactly?” I ask.
“No one’s. My own. I don’t know, possibly I’m in the mood to fix as much as I can before I go.”
My heart lurches. “Don’t talk like that.”
“While it’s tempting to play cancer card against you at this moment, I will not. I want this to be your choice. I can bring Noa around easy enough—she has a genuine passion. You should’ve seen the way she lit up when I told her about the classes the new French restaurant was offering to promote its opening. I even weaseled my way in as a patient and her nurse rather than a traditional couple in love. She’ll do it. The only question remaining is, will you?”
CHAPTER TEN
Noa
Idid everything I could not to eavesdrop, including using this time to search for Moo’s latest hiding place. As it is, the house is silent save for the noises in the kitchen and there are only so many crevices before I have to give up and circle back again.
I catch snippets ofearned thisandscandalandgenuine passion,but it’s not enough to sway my determinationnotto attend the class with Stone.
I’ll go on a dating app if I have to, though Falcon Haven’s phone tree system has gone through all eligible bachelors and back when it comes to Noa-Lynn Shaw. Most of the good men are married, gay, or moved out of town. The ones that remain are the leftovers. Like me. Pitied by those who’ve found happiness and grew old here.
With a dating app out of the question, I decide to beg Carly on my knees to join me, or pay her sister to do it for her. Mrs. Stalinski will not let these reserved seats go to waste, and I hate to see her disappointed when she has such tough days to begin with. Or maybe I can go by myself andsayCarly’s going with me, then swear everyone involved to secrecy…
“Noa? Hun? You out there?”
