30
I saw you here,” MC said, chasing a string of hot mozzarella into her mouth. “With Jae. On my birthday.”
“And you just hid from me like a little weasel?” Conrad blew on his slice, the greenish light of the pizzeria making his hair seem gruesomely dyed.
The booths were crammed with couples holding hands and smiling moonily, and couples focused on their pizza, pointedly silent.
It was Valentine’s Day. Paper hearts were strung up in the window, a few cupids hanging from the grease-stained ceiling.
“Pretty sure you were the weasel,” MC said, trying not to think about making out with Nora in the booth six feet away from where they sat now.
“We could write a fable together. The little weasel and the big weasel, chasing each other’s tails.”
“Eventually forming a weasel Ouroboros.”
The night had been Conrad’s idea, something to distract them from their deserved singleness, or at least just an excuse to get out of the house.
As he tried to minimize his after-hours time at school, he was stuck at home by early evening, puttering around the kitchen.
Now and then he would cook something over the top to deliver to Gabby, still at her parents’ house—lasagna with homemade sauce, brisket and fresh-baked rye—but for himself, he kept to the basics.
And since MC remained incompetent in the kitchen, they’d spent six weeks surviving on eggs, peanut butter sandwiches, and frozen burritos.
“Any word from her?” Conrad said, finally taking a delicate bite.
MC shook her head. She’d thought being well-behaved after the encounter with the protestors might earn her a joke text or a passing word on the driveway.
But Nora had kept to herself. At least she’d phased out of stealth mode, meaning she got out of her car to check the mailbox when she came home from work—sweeping the deluge of envelopes directly into a garbage bag—and sometimes shook salt over the icy stairs off her porch.
Whenever MC caught sight of her, she wanted to run out, say something.
Anything. But she didn’t want to push her luck.
Conrad said, “You could try what I did.”
“Handwritten letters?”
“They don’t necessarily have to be handwritten.”
“Maybe if we were married, I’d feel like I could pull that off.”
“Well, you can’t just sit around waiting for her to decide to forgive you for no good reason. Make her something.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Cookies.”
“I’m bad at baking.” MC frowned. “I’m bad at everything.”
“You’re good at talking. Ask her out on a date.”
“I blew up her life, Conrad. She’s not going to say yes to that.”
“But if you ask enough, maybe she’ll start to consider it. Women love persistence.” She stared at him. “Persistence without creepiness. That’s the key.”
She moved on to her second slice. “Did you tell Mom that Gabby moved out yet?”
“No. And I don’t see why she needs to know.”
“It’s not like she’s going to judge you.”
“Honestly, she might.”
“She won’t. It seems like she’s been making more of an effort with us lately. And hey, maybe she’ll have good advice.”
“After ruining her own marriage?”
“It’s just if Gabby doesn’t move back in with you when—”
“I’m going to therapy. I’m reading baby books . We’re on the right track.”
MC focused on her pizza. “How’s that been? Therapy, I mean.”
He took a sip of his beer. “Excruciating.”
They ate in silence after that. She’d realized at some point in January that reconnecting with her brother was going to be a long process. Hitting rock bottom together may’ve built some foundation, but there was still so much unsaid between them, so much time to make up for.
“Whoa,” he said, checking his phone and typing furiously.
“What is it?”
He looked up, a flash of old confidence in his smile. “Gab’s asking me to take her out for dessert.”
“Hey. Nice.”
His eyes were already glued to his screen again, thumbs flying. “Do you mind if I drop you back home for the night?”
She sighed.
They packed up their trash and headed out a minute later, Conrad practically skipping down the sidewalk.
There’d been more snow in the past two weeks than in all of December and January combined.
Dirty berms of asphalt-studded ice were shored up along the concrete, long slush puddles in between.
MC had taken to wearing her old snow boots, the ugly brown waterproofing a must whether she was at home or in town.
She’d been trying to split her days between the house and the local coffee shop, chipping away at work, wandering around with her thoughts.
Sometimes she ran into someone she knew—another old friend from high school, or the parent of a friend—and explained that she was planning a career change to teaching, just spending some time at home to regroup.
She’d inevitably feel a stab of disappointment after saying goodbye or continuing on her way.
Not because what she’d said wasn’t true, but because what she wanted most had little to do with her career, and she had no idea how to explain that to anyone, least of all herself.
It seemed impossible that she’d ever managed to be content before Nora.
All those girlfriends kept at arm’s length.
Safety must’ve seemed very valuable at the time.
Conrad leapt out of the car when they got back, ran straight to the shower, and spent a good twenty minutes getting ready.
After she wished him luck and said goodbye, she was ready to settle into the couch in the living room, flipping channels until she was tired enough to go to bed and be done with the day.
But out the picture window, she saw the glint of an unfamiliar car in Nora’s driveway.
As she walked closer to get a better look, she saw Nora herself come out on the porch, arms crossed.
Wary, MC waited a few minutes, half expecting some new squeeze to saunter out and steer her back inside. But no one came.
Nora stayed where she was.
MC put on her coat and went out to her own porch.
“Hey,” she called.
Nora looked over, her face mostly shadowed. “What?”
“Nothing. Just saying hey.”
MC saw a curl of steam from Nora’s mouth. A sigh, maybe. “Hey.”
“Got company tonight?”
“My parents are back.”
“Oh.” Relief flooded through her. “How’s that going?”
Another curl of steam. “Not great.”
“If you’re looking for an escape, I have some local recommendations.” She spread her hands.
“You know how I feel about us hanging out.”
“We don’t have to hang out. I’m just offering the physical space.”
Wind howled through the branches. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Made-up holiday.”
Nora rubbed her arms and turned to MC at last. “You know what? I’m that desperate.”
MC’s heart leapt, but she tried to keep her tone even. “I’ll put some hot water on.”
Nora dipped back through the door, maybe telling her parents she was leaving, maybe just glaring at them. She came out again in a coat and boots and trudged over, through the gate in the picket fence.
“I think I need something stronger than tea,” Nora said.
“Hot chocolate and Baileys?”
A raised eyebrow. “You really have regressed to high school.”
“I still make it with mini marshmallows.”
MC stepped aside as Nora came through the mudroom, taking her boots off, but not her coat.
“I won’t stay long,” Nora said. “Just need to get away from them for a second.”
“Do you want to talk about why they’re driving you crazy?” MC assumed it had something to do with the truth coming out about her book.
But Nora said, “Not really.”
And MC figured it was best to let things lie.
She headed to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. Nora followed, her arms still crossed.
“So,” Nora said, “are you living here full-time now?”
“Pretty much. Gave up my apartment a few weeks ago.”
“Why would you do that?”
“My life in the city was driving me crazy.”
“Hard being the toast of the town in all your fancy media circles?”
“They were never my circles.”
“Joe must be pretty torn up.”
“He is. But I think he understands why I need a break.”
“I’d say I feel bad for you, but.”
“I don’t want that. Even if you did feel bad for me.”
Nora sat on one of the stools at the island. “Gabby’s still gone?”
“Staying with her family for the foreseeable future.”
“Conrad’s lucky to have you around.”
“I’m lucky to have him around too. Not that we have much fun together, to be honest.”
“I always wanted a sibling. A sister more than a brother, I guess, but I’d take whatever I could get.”
“Joe always says the same thing. I mean, it definitely changes you.” MC set out the packets and walked back to the pantry. “But I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it when we were growing up.”
“He seems like a hard person to know.”
“That’s one way to put it.” She grabbed the bag of marshmallows. “But I think he’s changing.”
“You believe people can really change?”
“I believe they try to be better. I guess that’s not the same thing.” She couldn’t resist squishing the marshmallows a little. “It’s good enough for me.”
Nora watched her closely, saying nothing.
“We don’t have to talk,” MC said. “I can go hang out in my room and you can chill here, watch TV or something.”
“That’d be too weird.”
“I guess so.” MC drummed her fingers on the counter as the kettle started to give a low whistle.
Being confined to the kitchen for more awkward conversation didn’t feel right.
But MC didn’t want to lose this moment with Nora either.
“There is another possibility.” Her heartbeat picked up as she took the kettle off the burner.
She wanted to sound casual, but not overly casual.
“Remember the old golf course? About half a mile from here?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“It’s an easy walk through the trails behind our house. And it’s a great spot for sledding.”
Nora’s eyebrows went up.
“We have nothing to do tonight,” MC said quickly. “And it’s off-limits during the day, so.” She opened a cabinet to reveal Gabby’s extensive collection of mugs. “I can put the hot chocolate in thermoses.”
Nora seemed to consider this. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“No.” MC blushed. “I’m just asking you to go sledding.” She was already pouring the hot water. “Unless you’d rather go home.”
Silence stretched between them. It went on so long, MC was convinced she was about to be rejected, that she’d have to drink a double serving of instant hot cocoa all alone in her living room, stuffing her face with mini marshmallows as she cried about getting what she deserved.
“I will go sledding with you,” Nora said carefully. “But only because my house has been invaded.”
MC smiled. “Let me get some gear.”