A Home for Noelle Read online

  Trina did the best she could in the situation she found herself in, in love with a man that treated her like a dirty secret, raising their son with the little support dad provided, and she snapped, emotionally speaking, when she asked for more of, not from, him, and he cast them aside, declaring them “no longer his problem.”

  That’s when she came to our house, figuring if we were the family he chose, then we needed to know the truth. Mom later admitted to me when I’d gotten older that she should’ve never married him, but she couldn’t regret it because I was worth every minute of being with him.

  She’d taken in Daniel without hesitation, never once blaming him for what our dad did, and offered him a home with us. I don’t know what strings she pulled or whose, but she was listed as his guardian, later adopting him. I’m not saying it was an easy adjustment for any of us, just that we made our way through it and came out happier in the end. In regards to Daniel’s childhood prior to meeting us, and Trina’s fate, that’s his story to tell.

  Dad tried to stay in contact with me, more out of necessity and show than fatherly love, and I accepted the attempts for a time, stopping them when I realized his intentions were not with my best interests at heart. He’s a businessman, now head of the company his great-grandfather started, but there is a board that he has to answer to in some ways, and it didn’t look good for him to get a divorce and not spend time with his daughter. Yeah, just me because Daniel was still a secret, as he always had been, but that was fine with him. It was actually his preference. He didn’t want to be connected to the man and, when mom took back her maiden name, he asked if he could change his to that, too, when she adopted him. As soon as I was eighteen, I filed to have mine become the same, unable to do it any earlier.

  Dad and I talk every now and then, and he attempts to not only control my decisions, but also buy me off. Jewelry, clothes, vacations, etc., and I always return them with a ‘no, thank you.’ It might be a bit childish of me, but I actually purchase thank you cards and handwrite the no on the front, then merely sign my name inside, sending it back with whatever item it is in that instance.

  Perhaps, if he ever showed signs of being sorry for what he’d done, I could forgive him, but when there’s no remorse whatsoever? No apologies to those he hurt? No. It’s obvious he doesn’t feel he did anything wrong.

  Opening my door as soon as the car has stopped, I race up the path to the front door and burst inside, eager to see my mom.

  “It’s okay, sis. I’ve got your stuff, you just hog mom,” Daniel teases as he enters a few steps behind me. I turn a bit to the side, allowing me to see his face, and stick my tongue out at him, making sure to squeeze mom and rub it in.

  “You’re ornery,” she says with a giggle. “Did you take a class on that since you were last home?”

  “Nope,” Daniel answers before I can, “it’s a natural talent.”

  Later, after helping my brother bring in the rest so he’d stopped pouting, mom and I are in the kitchen, finalizing a few dishes. “Uncle Homer coming?”

  “Of course. He should be here any minute.”

  “Timing it so all the work is done, huh?”

  “I heard that, Noey,” a deep voice exclaims from the doorway.

  Laughing, I tell him, “You were supposed to. I said it loud enough for your old ears to catch it.” And then I rush over to hug him. The thing is, we aren’t even actually related, but he has always been, and will continue to be thought of as, my uncle. He and mom have been friends since they were kids, and yes, that’s all they’ve been – I asked. Besides, she isn’t his type, if you get my drift, and while we’ve never looked at him differently because of it, our love for him unconditional, my dad judged him harshly. Ironic considering the things he’s done.

  “How are my two favorite women?” He wants to know as he embraces mom, then sneaks a roll from the tray we’d recently taken from the oven. It’s funny watching him toss it from one hand to the other like a hot potato as the temperature registers. Mom and I are laughing, Daniel doing the same as he joins us and realizes what happened. “Turncoats,” he labels us. “My own family, too,” added for extra measure.

  I merely walk to the fridge, take something out, and hold it out to him along with a butter knife. When Mom sees what I’m doing, she leaves the room, shoulders shaking, to return a beat later. “Had to get this from the table, you know your uncle loves it.” Then she pulls a bottle of honey from behind her back where she’d hidden it for effect.

  “I’m asking Santa for a new family this year,” he grumbles, mouth twitching as he tries to contain his grin.

  “You’d be bored without us,” Daniel chimes in, to which Uncle Homer nods, transferring to a mock glare when he continues with, “and no one else can handle you.”

  Uncle Homer pokes a finger like Daniel has made a good point, then verbally agrees by saying, “You aren’t wrong there.”

  Dinner is delicious, the conversation flowing, and the laughter continuous, but it’s the time together that’s priceless. “Everyone is staying, right?” Mom asks after we’ve finished eating and are relaxing in the living room. The house is nowhere near the size of the one I spent the first six years of my life in, but the difference that matters, at least in our eyes, is that this is a home. We all nod, though I let her know I have to be back Saturday for a shift. “You work too hard, pumpkin,” she gently scolds me. “I wish you’d touch that account, let that pay for your schooling and books.”

  “And the apartment,” Daniel and Uncle Homer throw in simultaneously, childishly fist bumping each other afterward. They’re all referring to the money dad paid mom to keep quiet about his “extra-curricular activities.” I know how bad that sounds, but she didn’t go out and splurge on clothes or accessories. Hell, she hasn’t even touched it, in fact, it’s only grown since she made the deposit almost twenty years ago as it accrues interest. The thing is, she didn’t accept it for her, but for us. She equally split the amount between Daniel and myself, the money meant to provide a cushion for emergencies, or, as is the case here, tuition. I, however, am determined to not access it. Regardless of mom’s intentions in accepting it, I feel like he offered merely because he believes everyone, including his own family, can be bought. As if throwing money on a problem magically solves it. News flash dad: it never does.

  Chapter Four

  Xavier

  December 6th...

  “No, I don’t want that car.” I hear Noelle practically scream in the background. Ungrateful wench. A car isn’t good enough for her, it has to be a different one? Wow. Just a few more months, then Drea will be away from her. And what if she isn’t? They are best friends, moron. “Yeah, yeah, shut up,” I mutter under my breath, realizing I’m arguing with myself. The damn woman is making me lose my mind, and it’s not just because it sounds as if she could give my dad’s latest a run for her money in the spoiled department. No, it’s her freaking voice.

  I can’t get it out of my head. It follows me into my dreams, making me yearn for her when I wake alone, always alone. Because that’s the way I want it. I have no room nor patience for anyone except my sister. I’m like Scrooge, only I’m stingy with my heart and time as opposed to the other. Ahh, but at night, when I’m in bed, my imagination takes over and I don’t try to fight it, having learned after tossing and turning the first time until the sun rose in the sky that it was pointless to.

  She’s in my blood, this need for her roaring through my veins. I made the mistake of checking Drea’s social media pages, something I never do, and there was this vision of standing beside her – black hair, matching eyes, beautiful hued skin hinting at a Mediterranean heritage. I’d looked at my reflection in the mirror after that, our differences not only societal and financial, but also age and experience. No, I didn’t lump our ancestry in with them because that has no bearing on anything. We are each who we’re meant to be, and what she is…She’s perfect…just not for me.

  “Fuck,” I shout, drawing the atte
ntion of my assistant outside my door as she pokes her head in.

  “Everything okay, sir?” Myra wants to know. She’s worked for me for years and mother hens all the employees. She’s at least two decades older than me, but I don’t have the courage to ask. I know I really can’t anyway, legally, if I remember correctly, but I’m also not ashamed to admit she terrifies me. And not much does. But this little woman with a finger that can poke through steel? Eyes that have a laser focus that rivals Superman? “I’ll order your lunch. You look hungry.” She’s also one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet, and if I can say that, a man rumored to have been born without a heart? Well, you know it has to be true.

  I don’t even attempt to dissuade her, fully aware there’s no point. Myra will do whatever she wants and do so gleefully. I swear I’ve heard her cackle. Okay, so I have a soft spot for Drea and her. Then again, she’s really the only mother figure I’ve ever known, despite the fact I didn’t meet her until I was an adult.

  Forty-five minutes later, I’m enjoying a juicy hamburger and an order of fries. It’s not the healthiest of meals, but it is delicious, and the only vice I indulge in. Which is exactly why she ordered it. “Give yourself a raise,” I tell her as I leave my office. After eating a heavy or unhealthy meal, I like to talk a walk, even if it’s just to circle the floor we’re on. It gives me a chance to stretch, burn off some of the calories I just consumed, and make myself visible in case any of the employees need me.

  I may suck at people skills on a personal level, but business wise, I know what I’m doing and ensure my employees are well taken care of and happy within the company. What we do is stressful enough, we don’t need to add more to it unnecessarily. I will admit, like my father, I also became an attorney, but the difference is in our specialties. Dad is a very well-known entertainment lawyer, his clients some of the most recognizable in our state, whereas my focus is corporate. Of course, I hate that there’s even that similarity between us, but I prefer to think of myself as following in my maternal grandfather’s footsteps. My mom was useless as well, a human, honestly, with very few redeeming qualities. I know how mean that sounds, but I have evidence to back up my claims. The day she left, a seven-year-old version of me by her side, dad stopped her. You wouldn’t think I’d remember this due to my age at the time, not to mention how people’s versions of things can become skewed or hazy, but I can recall every single word that was said, and it has nothing to do with the fact there were very few exchanged. There are certain types of pain that leave a permanent scar, whether it be physical or emotional, and this was one of them.

  He’d told her, without even bothering to ask her to stay – her replacement already chosen – and called out, “How much?”

  Mom didn’t hesitate, didn’t even pretend to act as if she was confused by his question. No, she simply turned to face him, her grip already loosening on my tiny hand, and, looking back at it now, I know that was her truly letting go…if she’d planned to take me at all. It could’ve been a ploy on her part, an extortion, if you will. Whatever it was, it worked. I stayed; she left, more zeroes than before ready to be deposited in her account. When she’d tried to contact me later, though I was never under the illusion it was for me, she’d flat out told me to tell him the twenty grand had ran out and she needed more. The sad thing is she assumed I had any influence on his decisions, that he cared about my feelings or hers.

  Becoming anything like him is my worst nightmare, but I fear I’ve already started to take after him in more than appearance. I’m craving a woman that’s not only a decade younger, but seems to resemble his type in that from everything I’ve heard over the years of her so-called friendship with Drea, money is the end all and be all.

  Chapter Five

  Xavier

  December 20th…

  “You want to what?” I ask my sister, positive, hoping, I heard her wrong.

  “Bring Noelle home for winter break.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I immediately state when she repeats herself, causing Drea to sigh, exasperation clear in the action.

  “Does she know who you are?”

  “I’d hope so. She is my roommate and best friend, has been for four years.”

  “Don’t be a smartass,” I tell her, pulling the older brother tone.

  “Why not? You’ve already got dumbass covered.”

  “Hey,” I say over her laughter, “I resent that remark.”

  “You said resemble wrong, Xavier,” she corrects me.

  “What about her parents or a boyfriend?” I want to know, almost stumbling over the possibility of the latter.

  “Her brother had to go out of town for a business meeting and won’t be back until the day after Christmas.” Hmmm. Apparently, the need for more runs in the family. “Dad isn’t a part of her life.” Don’t judge, I tell myself. You have no idea of the situation. Yeah, but still… “And her mom is volunteering.” Interpreted as community service, I bet.

  “Xavier Wilhelm Benson.” Shit.

  Running my hand through my hair, I know it falls right back into place as everything else does in my life, I ask, “What did I do? I didn’t even say anything.”

  “I’m familiar with your bias against people that aren’t me or Myra.” I can’t even call bullshit on that. “You don’t even know her. How can you hate her?”

  Normally, it does take me meeting someone to feel that way, and I usually do in less than a minute, but I’ve heard enough to know she takes advantage of my sister, whether she wants to admit it or not. Drea always tries to see the good in people, to her detriment as it tends to end badly for her. And I’m there to pick up the pieces.

  “Look,” I say, trying to be tactful, but hell, we both know it’s not a quality I possess, and decide to just be me. “People suck, Drea. Our own family has shown us that, so why do you continually expect strangers to be any different?”

  “Because you always tell me there is good in the world. How can I find it if I never look?” I have said that numerous times, mostly when someone she thought was a friend showed their true color – green – and hurt her. The thing is, I don’t actually believe it, but I know it’s what she wants, no, needs, to hear, and I give it to her. “You continually seek the bad, finding it even when there’s none to be had.”

  “That’s a pretty neat trick on my part,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood, but she’s determined to teach me a lesson, ironic considering her career path.

  “No, Xavier, it’s sad.” And then she hangs up, those words said so softly having a deeper impact than if she’d yelled them. They stay with me into the night, and the next day, and for many more after that.*******

  Be sure to look for Daniel and Drea’s book, A Place for Daniel, releasing 2020.

  If you liked Xavier and Noelle’s story, please take a moment to leave a review. Not only do authors love to know they’ve brought enjoyment to someone’s life by providing an escape from reality, even if only for a short amount of time, but they are a way for others to decide if they’d also be interested. The greatest way to share your love for an author’s work is by word of mouth, whether it’s literally, or through your own written word in a review.

  About the Author

  Haven Rose spends her days high atop the world in a tower overlooking a beautiful meadow, waiting for her prince to find her. No? That's a different story? Okay. In real life, the author, who prefers to remain a mystery, met her true love at a very young age and the two have been enjoying their lives together ever since. Has it had its ups and downs? Yes, but their love for one another has endured it all and only grown stronger. He is the foundation upon which her Heroes are created. She knows things can never be perfect in a relationship, at least not outside of books, which is why the pen name of Haven Rose was created, allowing readers, such as herself, to escape into a world where problems are easily solved, love is instant and true, and the story is always safe.

  Stay Connected

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n email the author, if you’d like, at [email protected]. Haven has created a Facebook page for those interested in connecting with her or for updates on current works in progress and future books. That link is - https://www.facebook.com/authorhavenrose/. You can also follow her author page or on BookBub (bookbub.com/authors/haven-rose). While she does not currently have a website, she has created a closed reader group on Facebook. If you’re interested in becoming a member, please visit The Rose Garden at facebook.com/groups/227103614772999/.

  Thank you for taking the time to meet this couple, and those near and dear to them, as well as characters you may see in future books.