Every piece of this conversation was like standing on, well, a rickety old ladder. Talking to Noelle made her yearn for things she couldn’t want. She’d spent all her childhood trying to convince people who didn’t love her to change their minds about her, and she was done with it. Trying to befriend Noelle was like banging her head against a brick wall. She’d done that until her head was bloody. No more. It didn’t matter if Noelle spoke her secret language, she didn’t need anyone to get that close to her innermost self, anyway.

“I think I’m done with the part I need your help with,” she said, curtly. Noelle muttered something about soil samples before gathering her paintbrush and hauling it away with her. Miriam breathed a sigh of relief. Sexy, funny, hard-working women who liked her art were better admired from a distance.

She was in a deep painting zone when she suddenly heard Noelle’s voice again, startling her.

“Okay, this is ridiculous, I need to apologize,” Noelle was saying, her hands stuffed into her pockets and her hat pulled down over her forehead.

“For what?” Miriam said, lost. And annoyed. She’d just decided to be done trying to make Noelle like her, and Noelle wouldn’t go away and let her paint in peace. Couldn’t she leave things be, so Miriam didn’t have to think about her anymore? She set her paintbrush down a little too forcefully and turned on the ladder to look at Noelle.

“For the way I hauled off on you, after the will reading. You obviously think I still believe everything I said, and I can’t let that be. Besides, I’m in this program that kind of requires I make amends when I’m an asshole.”

“Wait, did I know that about you?” Miriam asked.

Noelle shrugged. “I don’t drink anymore. It’s not a secret.”

“Congratulations. On the sobriety. That’s a big deal, and it’s amazing,” Miriam said.

Noelle shuffled her feet in discomfort. “Yeah. It’s pretty great.”

Miriam tried to absorb this new information about Noelle. She had so many questions. She wanted to know everything about Noelle, her whole past and what made her tick. She tried to remind herself again that, while their short acquaintance loomed large in her consciousness, she had no real claim to Noelle’s secrets.

“I shouldn’t be having this conversation on top of a ladder,” Miriam said, climbing slowly down. Noelle waited until she was at the bottom to continue.

“Nothing I said was fair, or true. I had you pegged wrong.” Noelle took her hands out of her pockets, tried to stuff them into her hair, found her hat, huffed, and crossed her arms. It was cute—and distracting.