If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Chapter 11 – Jules

ELEVEN

JULES

Walking into Nate’s house, a sense of déjà vu takes over. Not much has changed, though there is a pink blanket on the couch and a few toys scattered on the floor. It looks almost as if Sophie shuffled out of her room that morning, wrapped in her blanket, and left it there, which is the mere proof that a child lives here.

I’ve beaten myself up a bunch over the last year, wondering how I didn’t see the signs of him having a family. A single man living in a decently sized home without a wife and kids should have been the first red flag, especially considering it was barely even decorated, but as I look around now, I at least have the comfort of knowing I didn’t completely ignore some giant waving red flag. Aside from the blanket and the toys, Nate’s home is still genuinely not very decorated and screams bachelor with no one relying on him.

“Soph, go get in your pajamas. It’s way past your bedtime, and I have to show Aunt Claire’s old place to Jules,” Nate says as he puts a set of keys on a hook. I continue to jingle mine in my hand, staring around. I followed him here, taking note of everything as I drove, since I didn’t pay much attention the last time I came here. I definitely wasn’t taking in details like street names or neighborhoods; I was just excited to be alone with him.

“Will she put me to bed?” she asks, glaring at her dad, hands on her hips.

“Sophie,” he starts, but his daughter’s eyes go wide, and considering it’s well past 8 p.m. and she’s had what I can assume was a long day, the fight starts to build.

“I want her to put me to bed! She’s my Christmas wish!”

Nate sighs before getting on his little girl’s level.

“Honey, you know that’s not how that works: we don’t tell people what to do. You heard me tell Jules she could stay here, no pressure. You also heard me tell her that she wouldn’t have to spend time over here if she wasn’t comfortable. We’re helping her out because her house is all messed up, not because we want her to be here.” Despite his calm, reasonable words, she’s still a five-year-old, and she pouts at her dad, eyes welling.

“But I do want her to be here,” she says, low and sad, and something in me breaks. Nate’s helping me out; I need to do the same.

“It’s fine, really; I don’t mind,” I say to Nate. Sophie looks at me, her eyes going wide and filled with hope. “Go get your pajamas on and brush your teeth and whatever else you normally do for bed. When you’re done, I’ll come in and say good night.”

“And you’ll read me a book?” I can’t help but laugh at the sudden look of determination on her little face and the way her hands go to her hips like she’s in a board meeting and trying to secure a deal. Something tells me she’s going to be an absolute powerhouse one day.

“Sophie,” Nate warns, but I’m fine with bartering.

“One,” I say.

“Three,” she demands, and I raise an eyebrow.

“One.” Her lips purse, and she looks at her dad and then at me.

I look to her dad, who is clearly fighting a smile but lifts his hands as if to say, this is your fight. “One,” I repeat, knowing from my past babysitting experiences that if you win the first battle, the rest are much easier to triumph over. If I do end up helping out and babysitting in exchange for a place to stay, I’ll need to start on the right foot.

Don’t ask me why I’m even contemplating staying as an option when it so very clearly is not.

She glares at me, trying to read me and determine if I’ll break before sighing.

“Fine. One,” she says with a pout, then turns on a foot toward the hall where I assume her room is, more sass than I thought could be possible for one small body.

I laugh silently as I watch her retreat before looking at Nate, who is leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed on his chest, and taking me in.

“You did good,” he says. “Showed her who’s boss. She can smell weakness, I swear.”

I smile and chuckle at him before shrugging.

“Like Claire said, I’ve babysat a bunch, and I teach a group of girls how to dance. Plus, my best friend is the sassiest person I’ve ever met, so I’m well trained. It’s almost second nature at this point.”

“You fit right in here,” he says, staring at me with a contemplative gaze. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something else but closes it when a light down the hall turns on, and Sophie calls his name. Then, without a word, he heads to help his daughter.

As I watch him walk down the hall, standing in his kitchen and not feeling a bit out of place, I think to myself, that is exactly what I’m afraid of.

“So this would be your place,” Nate says as he walks me into the small cottage behind his house. It has everything one needs to survive in a cute studio apartment style. There’s a tiny kitchenette and bedroom sharing a space, a cozy-looking loveseat in a corner, and a small enclosed bathroom with a standing shower, sink, and toilet. It’s bigger and comfier than I could ever afford for any stretch of time and much nicer than I anticipated. “Will it work?”

I laugh at his nerves.

“It’s…it’s perfect,” I say, shifting curtains to see an arched window facing the woods that butt up against the back of his property before turning to look at him. As much as this feels like fate at a time when I really, really need just a hint of good luck or a right place, right time moment, my mind still can’t accept this as a reality. “I can’t thank you enough, really.”

“Well, it’s the least I could do, all things considered. I have a feeling I did something to make you want to block me.”

I close my eyes and sigh, feeling the blush burn at my cheeks but knowing I have to get this over with once and for all.

“I thought you were married,” I blurt out. “And that I was some side fling.”

He stares at me for long moments, and my heart pounds nearly audibly.

“You thought I was married?” he asks with a disbelieving smile, leaning against the doorway of the cottage, his arms crossed over his chest.

I wonder if this is some kind of signature move or if he uses it to get anything he wants because I can definitely see how that would work. It’s probably why I find myself rambling my excuse without trying to avoid it.

“I went to the grocery store, and I saw you there, Sophie on your hip with Sloane. I…” I sigh once more and roll my eyes. “Okay, I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you any chance to explain, but in my defense?—”

“It was a perfectly reasonable thing to assume, and I hope when Soph gets older, if she sees a situation like that, she will do the same.” He pauses before he tips his head. “Maybe add in slashing his tires.”

I smile in return.

“It wasn’t very grown up of me, but…I have some previous baggage that kind of bit me in the ass when I saw that. My dad left my mom and started a new family when I was young. I saw history repeating itself, and I didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t know you had a daughter, so seeing her with you and me—” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I should have told you about Sophie,” he says, a sigh of his own.

“Probably,” I say with a shrug. “I get why you didn’t, though.”

He looks up, shifting his gaze from his feet to my eyes, clear shock on his face.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“I’m sure dating is hard. I’m assuming you’re the only one raising her?”

He nods. “Her mom signed her rights away two years ago.”

I sigh, irritation brewing under my skin because I’ve barely spent more than a single meal with that girl and can’t imagine wanting to give her up, much less being her mother and feeling that way.

“So I can imagine being her father becomes a part of your identity. You had a chance to introduce yourself as Nate, not Nate and Sophie. I get it.” I shrug before laughing to myself. “It probably would have saved me a lot of heartache and tears if you hadn’t, though,” I add to break the ice, but regret it almost instantly when his smile tips down with my words. “Nate, really, it’s not a big deal. I was kidding.”

“I hate that I spent an entire year not knowing what went wrong, knowing somewhere deep down I fucked it up but no idea how to fix it. I should have…I should have found you. Reached out,” he says, words drifting off. “I regret it. Especially now, seeing you again. It’s all coming back.” My heart skips a beat, and he shakes his head, eyes directed at his boots before he looks at me again. “I won’t stand here and lie and tell you I have no interest in seeing where this could go.” He stares at me, waiting for me to fill in whatever blanks I can.

“I…” I start, and for the smallest moment, I contemplate telling him it’s a clean slate, that we could pick up where we left. But that girl, the hopeless romantic who believes love can find you at any turn, is gone. She’s been put in a cage and boarded up to keep her soft heart safe. I’m coming to terms with the fact that what I saw was a miscommunication, but the pain I felt was real, and I don’t want to feel that again. I’m more guarded than I was a year ago, regardless of if what caused it wasn’t what I thought it was.

“I, uh, I’m not dating. I’m focusing on my business and my friends and…other things,” I say, suddenly realizing my life truly isn’t much more than those two things. “And considering what just happened with my place, that’s something I need to do even more. So while I appreciate your words and, even more, I appreciate the closure and knowing I wasn’t a total idiot homewrecker, it would be best if things stayed…platonic,” I say, and I hate how the lie feels on my tongue, even if it is the safest option for me.

He waits a long beat, reading me before he nods. “All right. Got it.” The disappointment he’s clearly fighting back covers his face before he gives me a wide, if not a bit forced, smile. “Got it. But I still want you to stay here until your place is fixed up, Jules,” he says, suddenly looking serious, and I shift at the abrupt change in topic.

“What?”

“Stay here until your place is fixed. Let me make it up to you. I fucked up by not telling you from the start, and that clearly impacted you. Let me give you a safe place to stay, no strings attached. Plus, with Claire gone, this place is going to sit empty, and it’s ridiculous to spend money on a hotel your insurance probably won’t cover.”

“I don’t know. One night is kind enough. I can’t?—”

“You can. You don’t have anywhere to stay, and your home needs work before the township allows you back in.” I groan at the reminder I wish he hadn’t given me. “And if you won’t accept my doing it as an apology for hurting you last New Year, do it as a favor for a friend. Sophie is fully convinced you're her wish come true, and I don’t know how to handle that without breaking her heart.”

The words remind me no one has told me what this Christmas wish is.

“What does that mean exactly?”

Nate steps further into the tiny cottage before flopping back on the bed, running a hand over his face as he does.

“We were at the mall today to see Santa. She told him she wanted me to fall in love with the real-life version of her Ashlyn doll. I was gearing up some kind of way to rationalize with her, to break the truth to her easily, but when we walked out…” It becomes clear the sticky situation he’s in.

“I was there.”

“You were there, and she sees it as some kind of sign or holiday magic. She’s stubborn as all hell, so she’s not going to back down from it. She thinks you’re her Christmas wish come true.”

“Does she ask about things like that frequently? You getting a wife or whatever?”

“No, so I don’t know where it came from. I can only assume it’s that she’s a little girl who has friends with two-parent households, sees my parents who have been happily married for decades, sees my sister falling in love and moving away, and hears my mom and sisters jab at me for being single and never dating. But if that’s all she wants, it’s the one thing I can’t just give to her. I know it’s cliché, but she’s been let down a lot, so I try to make sure she can have whatever she wants. She doesn’t ask for things much, so it hasn’t been much of an issue until…now.”

I think about how when I was her age, I wished and wished my mom would find a new husband who would make her happy, someone who would make us feel like a family again. That was all I wanted, though I never verbalized it. Something in me breaks a bit for this little girl—a shared longing I wouldn’t ever wish upon her.

“I don’t know what to do, but I believe in signs, and I believe in things happening for a reason. The world did not put you on that sidewalk just minutes after she made that wish because I wasn’t supposed to help you out, mend that fence. You can stay here, and I’ll do everything I can to help speed up the work at your place if you help me give her this, if only for a month. We’ll sell Sophie on this little romance and convince her that her Christmas wish is coming true. In the meantime, you’ll stay here while I fix up your place until you can move back home.”

I shake my head. “It seems a little one-sided to me,” I say with a half-assed laugh. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“You can help me with babysitting when you can. Claire usually helps get Sophie on the bus and watches her occasionally when I have to work late.” I think about how, with the recital next week and classes mostly shelved for December, for once, I don’t have much on my plate. It’s almost like my calendar is open just for this reason.

“Let me…” I say with a sigh. “Let me just double-check my calendar, make sure I can help out before I offer.” I move to grab my bag, reach in to grab my old-school calendar, and flip through to find the dates I’m busy and when my next classes are.

“It’s really not necessary,” he says. “If you can’t watch her or get her off the bus one day, I can find something that works.”

“I’d be much more comfortable with this arrangement if it was actually mutually beneficial,” I say under my breath, flipping pages to find December. In my peripheral, Nate stands and walks closer, bending to grab something.

“If you’re agreeing to help me with the mess I’ve gotten into with Sophie, we’re more than even, trust me,” he says, the words trailing off.

“Well, it turns out I think I can—” I start, lifting my head to look at Nate, who has gone quiet and is staring at something in his hands. “What’s that?” I ask, but panic fills me because I know what he’s holding. It’s worn and weathered, but it’s been in my bag for almost a year, despite changing bags relatively often.

“You kept this?” he asks. “This was from that night.”

I bite my lip and lie. “How do you know I didn’t go back and get a new one? I could be a smoker.” He gives me a look, and I shut my mouth.

“Why?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Why am I a smoker?” Once again, he glares at me and I sigh. “I don’t know,” I say. “It was a reminder of sorts, maybe. It made me…happy. Reminded me of something special.”

“I thought I was a bad reminder. Put you off dating, didn’t I?”

“I mean yeah. But for a moment…” I let it hang there, not wanting to finish my sentence. I’m tired, and the adrenaline from my long, long day is wearing off, meaning nothing good can come from the rest of the day.

“For a moment, it felt magical,” he says, stepping closer. I watch his hand slip into his pocket, taking the matchbook, and I fight the all-consuming urge to ask for it back.

That would give away way too much.

“What happens after?” I ask.

“After?”

“After the holidays, after the new year, after my place is all done, and I can move back.” A small smile tips his lips, and I realize I just admitted that I was thinking about taking his offer. “I mean, if I stay here and we pretend, what will happen then? What will you tell Sophie? She’s expecting some Christmas miracle, but while I appreciate the offer to help me out, I’m not marrying you just to make some Christmas magic for your kid.”

He smiles wider and then shrugs, that calculating smile filling his eyes now.

“Eh, I’m sure she’ll have already forgotten about her wish by then; it’s fine. Kids are resilient.” I give him a disbelieving look, but he continues. “And at Christmas, she’ll get spoiled to death by eighteen million toys and new clothes and who knows what else. She’s the only grandchild and has three aunts to spoil her. When you eventually head home, she won’t even notice.”

When I get a pang of sadness at how quickly it seems I’ll be brushed out of their lives once more, I realize I should say no.

I should say I can’t do this, spend one night here, and find new plans tomorrow. Call a million contractors all over the state and pay hand over fist to get my place done as soon as possible.

But now that I know Nate wasn’t actually a piece of shit all along, a part of me is desperate to get to know him again, to see if my gut was right or if I was delusional. And despite myself, I really, really want to give Sophie a spark of Christmas magic so one day, when she looks back, she can remember that her father did absolutely anything and everything to get her her every single wish.

A little girl deserves that, to believe in magic and true love and wishes coming true.

“Fine,” I say despite my best interests. “I’m in. But only until my place is done and only if I can pay you for the work and materials.” He makes a face, but I keep speaking. “I’m serious. I’m proud of First Position, and I’ve done it all by myself. I don’t need some random guy coming in and taking that away.”

He takes another moment, clearly contemplating if that’s my breaking point, but when he sees I’m not bending, he nods.

“And this? Us? It stays platonic. I’m not in the market for a real relationship,” I say.

“Deal,” he says almost too quickly, putting a hand out. I stare at that hand as his smile widens. “Gotta shake on it, dollface,” he says, and I glare. “You gotta admit, you look just like her.” His smile widens, and I shake my head, unable to fight the small smile. “Come on. Let’s make a deal, Jules.”

I spend a moment contemplating all of the ways this could go wrong before I sigh and put my hand in his. “Deal,” I whisper as his hand closes around mine.

He uses the leverage to pull me in close, forcing my heart to pound.

“Deal.” He holds me there for what feels like a lifetime, neither of us moving before he speaks. “And Jules? There hasn’t been a single day in three hundred and thirty-two days when I haven’t thought of you. What you look like, how you made me feel, how you taste. I won’t fuck this up this time.” He says it with such conviction and determination that I can’t breathe, despite his breaths grazing against my lips.

Finally, he steps back, leaving me unsteady on my feet.

“See you tomorrow, Jules,” he says, walking away.

I watch him from the doorway of the cottage, watch him close the back door, and shut off the lights inside, leaving the back porch light on low.

It’s not until I take a shower and get in bed and see a text from Jaime telling me Nate is completely spotless that I let myself pull up a calendar and discover the last time I saw Nathan Donovan was three hundred and thirty-two days ago.