Noelle
By the time we’ve finished measuring the lodge, it’s dark out. After our parking lot innuendos, I was nervous that I’d be too flustered to continue the conversation, but we focused on the work at hand and we didn’t stray beyond feet and inches and I made notes on the paper on my clipboard.
“Thank you,” I tell Brooks as I push my notepad back in my tote bag.
“No problem. Measuring this space was easier than making that arbor.”
“True,” I say, wistfully. The ceremony would have looked way better on the cliff, but who am I? Just a bridesmaid. “Can I at least buy you a drink for sticking around?”
“Sure,” he says. “But you have to tell me where to go, I’m new in town.”
We walk out of the lodge and I lock it with the key Martin gave me. I’m trusted with it for the next week until the wedding is over.
I tell him to follow me and then I get in my little SUV and start driving into town. I’m just beginning to warm up as the heat is finally kicking in, but my stomach is growling, and it wins out over warmth. I lock up the car and head to a pub on the corner.
This Bavarian town is brimming with bars, and I pick one that’s not very busy, and that I know Sophia won’t visit. Even though I’m dying to catch up with my best friend — and maybe cross-examine her to figure out what’s the deal between her and James.
But right now. I kind of like the idea of holding Brooks’ attention for myself.
When a waitress tells us to find a seat, we slide into a booth, and I catch Brooks’ eye. He looks so ruggedly handsome, his cheeks a little red from the cold, his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows and his thick beard reminding me that he is a real man. All man.
“So, what’s good here?” he asks, reaching for the menu.
I lick my lips. “Every pub in this town touts their German sausages and lager.”
“You like sausage.”
I cough, wishing I had a cool glass of water. “I love them,” I finally say.
He runs a hand over his beard, trying to gauge my tone. “Good to know.”
A waitress swings by and I’m able to avoid forming a response to Brooks by ordering a bratwurst, fries, and beer. “I’ll have the same,” Brooks says. After she’s brought us back our pints, he lifts his to mine. “To love.”
My eyes widen.
“Sophia and James, their love?” Brooks adds, knowing his words are making me squirm. What’s the deal with him? He makes me all nervous and on edge. It’s not my typical disposition.
“Right, to the happy couple.” We take a drink, and I avoid his gaze. I know he has a question on the tip of his tongue.
“So,” he says. “What is their deal, anyway?”
“Sophia and James?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “They seemed a little tense.”
“It’s just pre-wedding jitters,” I say, telling Brooks the same thing I’ve been telling myself. “They have high-pressure jobs and are really overwhelmed.”
His brows furrow as the waitress brings us our meal. “Seems like you’ve taken on a lot for them. It looks like they’re using you.”
I shake my head, knowing that’s not it at all. “I love to help. Especially after everything Sophia has done for me.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Like getting a free wedding planner?”
“I know she comes off a little… unfriendly, but her family has done so much for me over the years, and I will do anything to thank them.”
“What did they do?” Brooks asks.
I pick up a fry as I try to think of how to reply. “It’s kinda sad for Christmas.”
“Sorry,” he says, pulling back. “It’s not my place to ask.”
“It’s fine. I mean, everyone in town already knows. It’s no secret. When I was a senior in high school my parents died in a car crash. I had no family and so Sophia’s father took me in. She was my best friend.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, reaching across the table, his hand on mine. “That’s so tragic.”
I smile softly, remembering my parents. “Yeah, my parents died on Christmas Eve. So...” I shake my head. “Planning the wedding has two motivations. One, helping my best friend who did so much for me, and two, it keeps me distracted at a tough time of year.”
“I’m sorry, Noelle. That’s really rough, you’ve been through hell.” His eyes search mine, and I feel his words deep in my heart.
“Have you lost anyone you love?” I ask.
He eyes darken and he runs his thumb over the skin of my hand. “Scout’s mom died in childbirth.”
“Oh, my god,” I say.
“Jill and I weren’t together, it was a one-time thing when she got pregnant, but we planned on raising Scout together. I’d been with her throughout the pregnancy, so even though we weren’t in love, we cared for one another deeply. We were going to be raising a daughter together, so it meant something to us. Losing her the same day as Scout entered the world… it changed me.”
“How?”
“No one ever asks me that,” he says. “I think they assume they know. That losing Jill that way made life more precious, more sacred. And it did — but also…” He pauses, runs a hand over his beard.
“A little scared of love?” I ask with his hand still on mine.
“Exactly. There are no guarantees. Now my heart’s cold.” He smirks. “I’ve gotten all jaded and bitter.”
I look down at our hands. Brooks doesn’t seem jaded to me. Maybe a little bit lonely and like he could use a hug. Or more.
“Well,” I tell him. “It looks like you love your daughter quite a lot, so your heart’s not completely black. And you love your parents if you were willing to fill in for your dad today.”
“Yeah, well, Scout needed her grandparents at Christmas. They just moved here this summer.”
I nod, taking a mother sip of beer. “That’s why I haven’t seen you.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Would you have remembered?”
I smile. “I might have.” We begin eating our meal and I try to steady my beating heart. I never get this real and personal with people, so fast. But Brooks is different. He asks the right questions.
“So, you’ve gotta tell me,” he says as the waitress brings us another round. “What is the deal with the arbor? I saw the plans you gave my dad. They were particular.”
I sigh. “It’s super sentimental. And probably dumb.”
He frowns. “I don’t think anything you plan could be dumb.”
I laugh. “Except for practically pushing the happy couple off the mountain.”
He laughs. “It would have worked. It wouldn’t have been easy, but I can still build it if you really want.”
I shake my head. “No, it was wasted on James and Sophia anyways. They don’t care.”
“What was wasted?”
“The romance of it.” I lean over the table and rest my chin in my hand. “My dad proposed to my mom at that spot. Growing up, I always thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. Making promises at the top of a mountain.”