New Winslow S8E39
“I haven’t seen him,” Cleo said, that familiar sense of dread sinking in yet again.
She was at her apartment in Boston, pacing in the kitchen with a half-cooked pot of spaghetti boiling on the stove. She was back in town for yet another interview, this time at a job she really didn’t want and had barely a chance at getting. And now it was ten o’clock at night and Andrew was on the phone, clearly either in tears or close to it, because Noah had left to bring Billy McBride’s ghost to the New Winslow Town Cemetery about four hours earlier, saying he’d be home as soon as he was done.
“I tried to go with him, but he refused,” Andrew said. “And I thought… fuck, I should have just made him take me.”
Yeah, like that would have worked. They had example after example that proved otherwise. But Cleo was afraid now too. “He hasn’t called me,” she said. “And I don’t see why he’d come here? I’m not even sure if he knows my address, I don’t think he does. Do you want me to come there?”
Andrew hesitated. “I… if there’s any chance he’s going there, then maybe you should be there. I mean, just in case. He’s more likely to talk to you about anything that happened, right?”
She didn’t feel right agreeing with Andrew about that. After all, even if they hadn’t put any official labels on it, Andrew and Noah were what they were. And Noah and Olivia had been best friends for decades. So if she was the one he was most likely to talk to, then what did that say about those connections? But thinking back over the past few years, Andrew had a point.
“I’ll try calling him,” Cleo said. “But please, keep in touch, okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I will.”
He sounded exhausted and Cleo didn’t blame him. This wasn’t the first time. She could hope it was the last, only because everything was fine and Noah was going to come back and get better. Not for some other terrible reason Cleo couldn’t bring herself to think about right now.
She called Noah and of course it went straight to voicemail, the automated message telling her that his inbox was full. So she sent a useless text, then debated what to do.
She wanted to go to New Winslow, but Andrew had a point. If Noah was out of town, then maybe he’d end up driving out here. That was as likely as anything else, especially if he wasn’t at the Countess with Roman. And she didn’t want him to end up on her porch with nowhere to go and Cleo an hour away. She hesitated, watching the pasta boil and completely unable to determine what was the right course of action. But then her phone rang again.
She glanced down and saw Jude’s name on the display. This was weirdly late for Jude to be calling, even if they did have a few things to discuss business-wise. But not at ten o’clock on a Thursday night they didn’t. Maybe it was a pocket dial. Or a drunk dial they’d laugh about later.
She answered. “Hello?”
“Cleo, hey, it’s Jude.”
He sounded completely sober. “Hey,” she said. “What’s up? I only have a minute, but-”
“I’m sorry to call like this, but I have Noah here. He’s really drunk.”
Dammit. Relief and an old fear settled into place. “Thank God,” Cleo said. “I just got off the phone with Andrew, he’s frantic. Apparently Noah said he’d be back soon about four hours ago.”
“I know you’re out in Boston, but he asked me not to bring him home, and I don’t have Andrew or Olivia’s numbers,” Jude said. “And I couldn’t get him to tell me the passcode for his phone. Do you know it by any chance?”
“It’s alright, I’ll meet you there,” Cleo said.
“You sure?” Jude asked. “I could just bring him home.”
He sounded hesitant, and she didn’t blame him. “What did Noah say?” she asked.
“Not much,” Jude replied. “He’s asleep in the backseat and has been pretty much since we started moving.”
“I’m leaving now,” Cleo said. “I’ll call Andrew and Liv, but I’ll be there in about forty-five minutes. Is that alright with you?”
“Of course,” Jude said. “I’ve got him.”
If he was going to be anywhere that wasn’t home, then Jude’s house was probably the safest option. She was sure Andrew was going to have some feelings about that, but he was smart enough to know it beat the alternatives, and what mattered was Noah’s safety. Jude gave her his address and she wrote it down on a scrap of paper on her counter, then hung up and turned off the burner. Her pasta would have to wait.
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Of course Olivia had offered to go get him. She was closer and Cleo didn’t have to risk coming back to town for this. But she sounded so tired and so defeated that Cleo had told her not to. She was already on the road and she’d bring Noah home. Meanwhile, Andrew hadn’t even seemed upset about the Jude part of the whole thing. But she figured he was too busy being relieved and upset about the rest of it, the same way that she was.
Jude’s condo was in Hubbardston, a small town east of New Winslow. Knowing Jude, this was actually kind of surprising to her. She couldn’t imagine why someone as seemingly upscale and sophisticated as Jude would want to live out here. And Cleo doubted it was just her own preference for the city talking.
But as she pulled into the wooded condo complex, she had to admit that it was very nice. Extremely quiet, but beautiful, even this late at night. She drove down a winding wooded path, illuminated by soft lights within the landscaping that lined the road. After a few minutes of passing by lines of neat townhouses and condos, Cleo pulled up in front of a duplex with orange and red flowers blooming along the brick walkway.
She shut off her car and took a second to brace herself for what was clearly going to be coming next. Maybe she should have just let Noah spend the night, it wasn’t like Jude would have minded. But no, she was already here.
She walked up the brick walkway and rang the doorbell, waiting under the glow of the porch light. A second later, she saw Sarabeth coming toward the door, her body wavering and blurry in the frosted glass. “Cleo,” Sarabeth said as she opened the door. “Thank you.”
“I’m really sorry about this,” Cleo said as she stepped inside.
“No, don’t even worry about it.”
The condo was even more beautiful than the outside had been. Its front foyer opened into a comfortable living room with a large gray sectional couch and tasteful decorations. The entire thing was open, the kitchen moving seamlessly into the living area. As she stepped inside, she spotted Jude sitting on the couch and another step in revealed Noah lying next to him, apparently asleep. Jude looked like he was asleep too, but he opened his eyes as Cleo walked in.
“Hey, Cleo,” Jude said with a soft smile.
“Thank you for taking care of him.”
“Of course, of course.”
Noah was lying on the long end of the couch with a blanket over him, a pillow under his head, and a bowl on the floor beside him. Jude sat on the other side of the couch, tucked into the corner of the sectional. There was a game show playing silently on the TV and Jude’s hand was resting on Noah’s shoulder.
“It’s no problem,” Jude said, standing up and moving toward the kitchen area. “I’m just glad he called.”
“What happened?” Cleo asked as she followed him away from the couch.
“He called from a bar in Templeton,” Jude said. “I don’t know why. But apparently the bartender cut him off and told him to call someone.”
She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t called Olivia, but it was heartbreaking all the same. “His dad isn’t alive, right?” Jude asked, his voice lowered.
Cleo shook her head, glancing over at Noah. “No, he’s been gone a few years,” she said. “Why?”
“That’s what I thought. But then he told me his dad left, and that’s why he was there.”
Oh. Oh shit, no wonder he’d snapped. If it was what it sounded like, then there was no other way this would have ended. “He was settling a spirit in the cemetery,” Cleo said, wondering exactly how much Noah had told Jude about New Winslow. “It was the one his dad was buried in. I wonder… something must have happened there.”
She glanced over at Sarabeth, who was leaning against the counter, watching them. She looked kind. Not that she hadn’t back when Cleo had met her briefly at the coffee shop, but now as she stood there watching them, there was a gentleness on her sharp features. An understanding.
“I should get him home,” Cleo said. “Let you guys finish your night.”
She went over to where Noah was sleeping and crouched down beside him, gently shaking his shoulder. “Noah?”
He groaned, but didn’t open his eyes. “Noah, hey,” she said, trying again. “It’s Cleo.”
Now he looked up at her for a second, before closing his eyes again. “Cleo?”
“Yeah. Let’s get you home.”
“No.”
“Noah, you can’t live on Jude’s couch forever.”
The noise he made might have been a disagreement, but she couldn’t be sure. “Come on,” she said. “Andrew and Liv are really worried about you.”
He grunted, burying his face in the pillow. “Noah,” she repeated, forcing her voice to be sharper this time. “You have to wake up.”
Finally he opened his eyes. “Come on, let’s sit up.”
She’d cared for drunk friends before, including him. Hell, she’d peeled Andrew off the sofa at some friend of a friend’s house and navigated the way to Beacon Hill maybe six months before they came back to New Winslow. But she had a really bad feeling about Noah’s ability to get back on track from here. Hopefully it was just because she was the one who was here this time, not hearing everything secondhand from Liv and Andrew like before. But as he slowly sat up, she was more afraid than she wanted to let on.
Noah turned to Jude. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Jude said, squeezing his hand and kissing him on the forehead. “It’s fine.”
Again, she wondered how much Noah had told Jude. But as she looked at Jude’s face, not just listening to his light tone, she could see that he knew exactly what had happened here.
“Do you need help getting up?” she asked Noah.
Noah shook his head, seemingly a little more with it now. He followed Cleo slowly to the door. “Text me when you get back to New Winslow,” Jude said.
She nodded as she motioned for Noah to go through the door ahead of her. He was walking on his own, that was promising. If anything here could be promising.
But by the time he got to her car, he was already unsteady again. She opened the door for him and he stumbled into the passenger seat, falling against the window when she shut it behind him. When she got in and started the car, she had to wait for him to get his seatbelt on before they pulled out.
“What happened?” Cleo asked as they pulled onto the silent roadways, away from the meticulous landscaping and soft lights.
“My dad,” Noah whispered, still leaning on the window and staring out into the darkness. “He didn’t want to see me. No wonder I couldn’t see him, Cleo. He must be so ashamed of me right now.”
He sniffled, wiping at his face. Cleo’s throat was tight. She waited for him to say something else, but he was silent as she drove them home.
It was coming up on midnight when they got back, but the front light was on for them as she pulled into the driveway. Noah was asleep beside her, but woke up as she reached over and shook him gently.
“We’re home,” she said.
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Well, we’re here. Come on, I’ll help you in.”
Noah stayed where he was for a moment, looking at the house, where the front light was glowing a warm, almost lantern-like, yellow. After a moment, Cleo touched his arm and he turned to look at her.
“I know,” he said before she could say anything.
“We don’t have to. I can bring you somewhere right now,” she said. “If you want. I mean, I think it would help. We’ll find a program with an opening and I’ll bring you there now. We don’t even need to go inside, I’ll come back and get you a bag.”
Noah sniffed and wiped harshly at his eyes while Cleo waited for him to push her away. But he shook his head.
“I need to see this through,” he said finally, still looking straight out the windshield. “Andrew can’t leave town and they tried to kill him. I can’t help him from rehab.”
She was pretty sure Andrew would have a different opinion on that, but Noah hadn’t refused completely. His hand was warm as she reached over and took it. “I’ll… I’ll think about it,” he said. “I will. Just not yet.”
It was progress, so she didn’t say a word.
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