Nicholas felt like he was flying, his lips pressed firmly against the cloud-like softness of Noelle’s lips. He held her face tenderly, careful not to startle or hurt her as they shared this moment. His breathing evened out for the first time, his thumb brushing across her face lightly. Just as Nicholas deepened the kiss, a knock sounded at the door, startling them both.
Noelle ripped away from him, but not in rejection. She glanced toward the door, quickly smoothing her hair where his other hand had intertwined with the strands, and went to answer the door. Nicholas took the opportunity to gather himself, and possibly rid himself of the blush no doubt grazing his cheeks.
Sister Beatrice came into view right behind Noelle, her face set in displeasure, though it wasn’t outside of her normal look. However, it was the anger in her eye that was new, and uncharted territory for both him and Noelle considering the nervousness in her face. Nicholas’ stomach dropped, his eyes meeting Noelle’s as they ushered Beatrice to the living room.
The woman took a seat in the chair across from the sofa, perching on the edge rather than make herself comfortable. She cleared her throat, intertwining her fingers,
“I apologize for intruding on your Christmas, but I must discuss something important with you,” she glanced about the room and out into the hall, “Where is Carol?”
Noelle shifted, unsure if what she was about to say would be the wrong thing. Nicholas didn’t blame her for her nervousness, he felt uneasy himself.
“She’s staying at Pastor Sam’s house with her friends for the evening,” Noelle said, wringing her hands together. “Can I offer you a cup of tea?”
Beatrice shook her head. “I won’t be long.”
Nicholas and Noelle exchanged a look, turning back to Beatrice as she continued. “It has come to my attention that you have deceived me. A dear friend of mine made me aware of the untimely death of the real Henry Foster, your true husband, while I was at the fair, much to my dismay.”
Nicholas’ heart stopped dead in his chest, Noelle inhaled sharply, her hands starting to shake from where she extended them pleadingly. She shook her head, but Beatrice continued still,
“Words cannot express my disappointment in you, Mrs. Foster. I truly thought I had given Carol to a wonderful family where she would be cherished and raised right, but it seems I was wrong. I would say I’m disappointed in you as well, Nicholas Birch, but I have not yet had the displeasure of getting to know you.”
Nicholas recoiled at the verbal slap, growing angry at the judgment she spoke over him, as if she had the right. She didn’t know anything about it, much less what type of man he was or if it was pleasure to know him or not. But before he could say anything, Noelle interrupted,
“I am sorry, Beatrice. If you give me a moment to explain myself…” Her eyes were wide and pleading, her lips wobbling and her heart beating in her throat.
Nicholas cleared his throat, shifting towards the woman again, “Please, Sister Beatrice. Please just allow her the opportunity to explain.”
Beatrice sat back, mouth set in a tight line and looking less than happy to listen. But she stayed silent, Noelle scooting forward as if proximity would lessen the blow of her admittance.
“I know what it seems like, and it is horrible, I agree. I will not make excuses for myself, so I will only tell you what happened and my reasoning for it,” Noelle gulped, her hands squeezing each other until the knuckles were white. Nicholas had to fight the urge to place his hands over hers, to ease the knots he knew were now making knots in her stomach. “I have wanted to adopt Carol for the better part of this year, and I have wanted children ever since I was a child. Henry indulged my dreams and we tried for children, but I couldn’t carry one to term. We lost a lot of children, and I grew desperate enough to ask Henry to adopt. He agreed, but only on the condition that it be a boy. Henry did not take kindly to being disobeyed, and while I tried desperately to connect to some of the boys at the orphanage; there was none of them that felt quite like mine as Carol did. But he wouldn’t relent, and he wouldn’t even meet Carol before he said no.”
Tears started slipping from her eyes now, and Nicholas swore he could hear his own heart crack. Beatrice shifted uncomfortably, and he could’ve sworn he saw the hardness in her eyes recede a bit, a glimpse of the compassionate woman shining underneath. Nicholas supposed there had to be some part of her that was not hard, considering that she worked with children day in and day out. And by the way she’d looked at Carol at the fair, with so much love…there has to be more than what she showed others on the surface.
“I thought my dreams were to be just that; dreams, and that I would never have a family of my own. I thought I would have to go back to the orphanage and tell Carol that I would not be able to take her home, and that she would have to find a new family that she could connect with as she did with me.” Noelle sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Nicholas rummaged in his coat pocket, pulling from them a handkerchief which he handed to her. She shot him a grateful look, dabbing at her eyes.
“But then he died in the avalanche that covered the mine Nicholas works at, and suddenly I had this vision of a life I could have, one that Henry had denied me at every twist and turn. I was finally within reach of the family I wanted so badly, despite not having a husband or being able to give Carol a father. I took the opportunity to get Carol to come home—but I didn’t know how you would react if you learned that I had no husband to provide for us. In my moment of weakness, I was naive enough to go through with the house visit, thinking that I might convince Henry, and when he died, that I might be able to care for her regardless of his presence. However, when you actually came for the house visit, I was afraid that you would deny the adoption if you learned that Henry had died, thinking that I would not be able to care for her. It scared me, and when Nicholas came to check on my well-being, I saw the opportunity to introduce him as my husband, so that I might have a fighting chance in adopting Carol before it was too late. I hoped that with him present, you might look at the woman and mother I am, and not the woman who was without a husband and unable to care for the child you are about to release into her care.”
Beatrice was silent as Noelle recounted exactly what happened, and what her thought process was during this whole situation. The woman didn’t move, and she didn’t interrupt. She simply let Noelle attempt to save herself from the heartbreak that was now impending. Nicholas just hoped that she didn’t dangle the hope in front of Noelle like a carrot just to rip it away. Noelle cleared her throat,
“You have to believe me when I say that I wanted to come clean many times, and that I wanted to tell you what the situation was. But I was afraid, Sister Beatrice. Carol is happy here, I am happy with her here—we are happy.” Noelle’s arm encompassed Nicholas as well, making his heart swell with joy and pride. She considered him a part of their family, even though they had not had time to discuss what they would do from here, yet. “We have become a family, the three of us. Nicholas cares for us, he helps us, he takes us on adventures, and he teaches Carol things of life just as a father would. I teach her things just like a mother would.”
Beatrice shifted then, glancing between the two of them. Her hands were folded in her lap, relaxed, but twitching every now and then as Noelle said something she did not agree with—that was his guess anyway. Her mouth was still set in a hard line, unforgiving and unyielding. But Noelle went on, undeterred by that stubborn look.
“We are happy, she is happy with us. She will be happy with us for the rest of her life if you allow me to keep her,” Noelle’s voice wobbled again. “What I did was wrong, but I am not a dishonest woman. I am a good, Christian woman who will look after Carol the way that she deserves and more, and—”
“I am sorry, Noelle but I must stop you there.” Beatrice’s hard voice sounded, cutting her off. Nicholas turned in his seat, the knot in his stomach growing and tightening. He knew that look on her face, and he braced himself for what was coming. He had to be strong now, both for himself and for Noelle, because Beatrice had come here with determination, and not even Noelle’s carefully chosen words would deter her. Beatrice continued,
“You cannot sit here and proclaim that you are not dishonest when you have gone out of your way to deceive both myself and Mr. Banks and every person at the orphanage that has had the displeasure of sharing your company. I thought that I had finally found a good and honest home for Carol where she would be brought up with the morals that become a young woman. But now I have come to the conclusion that that is not the case.”
Noelle shook her head. “Sister Beatrice, we cared for Carol like—”
“Like she was your own?” The woman asked, eyes settling on Nicholas. “You and Mr. Birch are not even married, Noelle. And yet, that night we spent here due to the snow, it was he who slept next to you in your bed. You have sold that child an illusion of a family, made up by two friends who are attempting to raise a child as if they were husband and wife, as if they were parents.”
Both Noelle and Nicholas recoiled from the verbal slap, but it was Nicholas who grew angry. He frowned, looking the woman straight in the eye. He opened his mouth to say something, to say anything to discourage this false narrative that she had made. But he couldn’t, because it wasn’t false—whether they had done it on purpose or not, and no matter with what intention they did it, they had unknowingly misled Carol. He was not Noelle’s husband, and he was not her father. And he had grown so used to them, that he lost sight of the truth himself. What would have happened after Christmas? What would have happened if Noelle had decided to move? Would he have gone with? Would he have stayed? What was between them, and was it serious enough for him to consider moving with her in the first place? Additionally, what would have happened if real estate and debt collectors came knocking and found him here in the stead of Henry?
“I understand your thoughts and your reasoning, Noelle. But I remain steadfast in my conclusion that this is not a good home for Carol to grow up in, if you resort to lies to get what you want out of life.”
Crack. Crack. Crack. Nicholas wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the wood cracking under heat or the sound of Noelle’s heart, breaking inch by inch, as Beatrice spewed her words like poison. He felt his own heart shatter with hers, tearing itself apart to capture the pieces of hers. He finally relented, moving closer to her and placed a hand on her back.
“Please,” Noelle whispered, seeing what was about to happen from a mile away, “Please.”
“I left this subject for after Christmas because I did not want to ruin it for the girl, but I am afraid that I will have to take Carol back to the orphanage where she will be given to a family that will be able to care for her and teach her valuable life-lessons and morals. Your home is not the correct fit for that child, not after all she’s been through—and for how much she deserves. I cannot trust you with her after you have so masterfully deceived myself and Mr. Banks.”
“Please,” a small whisper from the woman beside him, whose eyes were now filled with fear and silver tears. She clutched at her heart, her hands gripping the cloth of her dress. “Please, I am sorry.”
Beatrice was unforgiving, lifting her chin at Noelle’s apology and pleading, steeling her resolve. “I will be here to pick her up tomorrow morning. Please ensure she is packed and ready by then.”
Noelle stood, moving towards the woman when she made her way to the door. It looked like she was ready to clutch at the woman's sleeve and beg at her feet. Desperation made her face slack and her eyes wide, her mouth moving but no words escaping those lips. The same lips he’d kissed only a few minutes ago, when all had been perfect. How did it go so wrong, so fast?