One Silent Night (Romeo Family Romance #9) - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,1
reason she’d even answered her phone was because Dottie had called several times already and left two messages. The woman was relentless.
“Come home, Noelle,” Dottie pled. “You and Kyle can work this out.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not this time.”
An edge crept into Dottie’s voice. “Stop being selfish. Aiden needs his father and grandparents.”
Noelle felt like a dozen firecrackers were going off simultaneously in her head. “I’m being selfish?” Her voice was loud, but she no longer cared. She tightened her hold on the cellphone. “You know what Kyle’s problem is? Other than the fact that he can’t keep his zipper up. You and Trent make excuses for him. He’s the selfish one!”
“Calm down,” Dottie urged in a superior tone.
A hard laugh riddled Noelle’s throat. “You started this.”
“I was just trying to get through to you.” Dottie’s voice broke. “What’s it gonna take to get you to come home?”
“I am home,” she growled. Coming back to Franklin was not something Noelle thought she’d ever do. Being here was hard. Everything reminded Noelle of her mother. She couldn’t count the number of times they’d come to this same grocery store when she was a kid. They’d walked these very aisles, their feet likely treading the exact spot where she was now. Her chest squeezed. Sometimes she missed her mom so badly that she could hardly breathe. It was especially hard during Christmas, her mother’s favorite time of the year. Noelle’s very name was indicative of how much Joleigh Abernathy adored Christmas.
Noelle swallowed the lump in her throat, willing herself to be strong. The longer she lived here, the more the pain would lessen … she hoped. It wasn’t just her mom’s death that had Noelle’s nerves in a jumble. It was also Holden. She wondered if he even realized that she was back. What must he be thinking? Would he feel sorry for her that her marriage hadn’t worked out? She straightened her shoulders, her expression going hard. She couldn’t tolerate his pity. The festive Christmas music playing in the background was a stark contrast to her darkening mood. It was Christmas time. She should be happy. She needed to keep her eyes focused on the future rather than dwelling on the past. Hadn’t she prayed for help and direction? She’d felt prompted to come home to Franklin. And then when her aunt Birdie offered her a place to stay, the deal was sealed. She’d gotten a job at Viv Salon, which was a few doors away from Birdie’s dress shop. She had so much to be grateful for. The key was to create new memories so they could help fill the sadness in her soul.
Noelle pulled herself out of her thoughts. Dottie had been talking a mile a minute, outlining all of the fun “adventures” that she and her husband, Trent, had planned for their Christmas in Tybee Island. Of course, Dottie made sure to highlight all of the activities that would be expressly for Aiden, should Noelle allow him to go.
Aiden had gotten farther ahead of Noelle. He rounded the corner. Before she could catch him, an older man came the other direction with his buggy and inadvertently blocked her way. It seemed to take forever for him to shuffle past. The second she could, Noelle whipped her buggy past the man and hurried to catch up with Aiden.
“Are you still there?” Dottie asked irritably. “You haven’t said a word for the last little while.” She sniffed out a laugh. “I’m beginning to think you’re a mute.”
Noelle pushed out a hard breath. “I’m here, although I’m not sure why I’m still talking to you,” she muttered under her breath. She wished she could cut ties with her former mother-in-law and the rest of the Staleys, but that wasn’t going to happen. She would always be tied to her ex-husband and his parents because of Aiden.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that last part.”
“Never mind.” Noelle spotted Aiden at the far end of the cookie aisle. He was sitting on the floor, his feet sprawled out as he ripped open a box of wafers. A mother and her teenage daughter were watching the scene—the mother’s face registered disapproval, and the daughter had her hand over her mouth, sniggering.
Noelle wished she could crawl under the buggy. Instead, she lifted her chin and strode past them, pushing her buggy with a vengeance. The woman looked vaguely familiar. Noelle was sure she probably knew her from somewhere. Perhaps she belonged to the same church as Noelle’s