Page 74 of Saved By Noel
Clara has either blocked my number or developed willpower of steel to continue ignoring my texts and second phone call attempt. As much as I want to make peace between us, I’m almost relieved that she’s avoiding me. Because I still don’t know exactly what I’d say to her to make things right.
Dear Clara—I love you, but I don’t need you, so I’m staying away from you for your sake.
As far as building bridges goes, somehow I don’t think that would go very far.
I drive to Pops’ house on Wednesday to check in now that the town has calmed down. Chase has matched my morose mood this week, but he has his head hanging happily out the window now, sensing where we’re going.
He bounds up to Pops’ front door, barking to announce our presence. Pops opens the door before I even have to knock, steadier on his feet than he has been for a long while. I may have ruined things with Clara, but at least she fixed things with Pops.
We wordlessly take seats on the porch rocking chairs, Chase resting his head in Pops’ lap. The afternoon sun should warm us enough to enjoy the crisp air, but I brought a thermos of coffee for us to share as a backup.
Pops takes a long sip of black coffee, then turns his furrowed brow on me. “I spoke with Sydney yesterday.”
Knowing exactly what Syd would have spoken with him about, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “And?”
“Clark, I mean this in the most loving way. You’re a complete and utter idiot,” Pops declares.
I refuse to dignify his insult with a response.
“You are so obviously in love with that girl. Truly, madly, stars-in-your-eyes in love. And despite your best efforts to be a disagreeable moron, Clara seems to love you back. Why would you push that away?” Pops presses.
I flip my hat forward to provide a shield for my eyes before answering. “You’ve seen Clara. She’s a city girl. This town will only ever be a getaway for her, a quiet place to write and nothing more. And I’ll never leave Noel. We don’t make sense long term.”
“Bull crap.”
“’Scuse me?”
Chase barks next to me.
“I said bull crap. That’s not the reason you’re pushing her away and you know it. I see through that excuse plain as day, and I’m darn near blind, son. Tell me the truth. Tellyourselfthe truth,” Pops says.
I sigh, throwing my hands up in the air. “Because I don’tneedher, Pops! Clara’s DNA is hard-wired to care for other people. Helping people brings her to life in the most captivating way possible. She’d eventually resent our relationship when she can’t scratch that itch with me.”
“You don’t need her, or you don’twantto need her?” he questions.
“Is there a difference?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But either way, why’s it such a bad thing to need someone?” Pops asks.
I pause to consider my answer. “Pops, you know better than anyone that I grew up learning not to depend on anyone but myself. I’d rather take care of my own business, take care of myself, even if that means being alone.”
Pops assesses me. “Lord knows you haven’t had someone truly take care of you in a long time. Maybe ever. I s'pose you just don’t understand how good it can be. What if you let someone take care of you, and you find out how much more color and joy and beauty it brings to life?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a competent, grown man. I’m the town handymanandthe mayor. I’m literally the person everyone in Noel calls when they need something. I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“Fair enough.” Pops pauses. “But what about someone to carewithyou? You’ve carried the burdens of this town on your shoulders ever since your folks passed. You’ve carried the burden of your family name long before that. Would it really be that bad to have someone care with you for this town? Becauseevidence indicates that Clara has a lot of care to give Noel.” He emphasizes the new “No-el” pronunciation with a wry grin.
He quietly finishes his speech. “Needing the love of a kind, generous woman like Clara doesn’t make you less competent, son. It just makes you more loved. And there ain’t nothing wrong with that, no sir.”
Pops takes another sip of coffee and stares off into the distance. His eyes get the kind of misty that reveals he’s thinking of Bev. I glance away to give him privacy with his thoughts. Chase looks torn between nudging his nose under Pops’ hand or tucking his head under my arm. I wave him toward Pops and stare down at my hands.
Needingsomeone is a sensation I’ve stifled since childhood. I’ve learned to be self-sufficient. The comfort of competency is the drug I crave. It’s brought me a sense of satisfaction knowing that I’m taking care of myself and the people around me. I’ve always been content being a one-man show.
It’s okay to be content with what is, but it’s also okay to want what could be.Davis’ unsolicited advice from the first day I denied my attraction to Clara comes crashing through my mind.
What could be?
I clear my throat but avoid making eye contact with Pops as I speak. “What if I admit that I want Clara—that IneedClara—and it doesn’t work out? And we both wind up devastated?”
