Chapter 25
The next morning Nora called Lacey and caught her on the way to work. “Hey! Got a minute?”
“Not really.” Lacey was driving; her voice sounded like it was coming from a can.
“Okay... but I wanted to tell you that I quit my job.”
“I heard,” Lacey said instantly. “And I’d love to chat, but I have a staff meeting in ten minutes and I won’t get to the office for at least fifteen minutes. I’m sorry, I can’t deal with this right now, Nora.”
It hurt that her sister thought that she had to “deal” with her. And that she couldn’t trust Nora to be truly okay. “Oh. Well, I—”
“Oops, I’ve got another call. I’ll talk to you later.” Lacey clicked off.
Nora tossed down her phone. It was mortifying to be reminded of how utterly worthless she’d been in the Before.
When the phone rang again, Nora assumed it was Lacey, calling to say she’d forgotten to say something, or maybe to apologize for being so short with her. Alas, it was not Lacey—it was Mom.
Or rather, Mom’s eye, the phone too close to her face again. “Nora, what the hell have you done now?”
“I resigned.”
“Now you listen to me. You get up and get dressed and get to work. We are not going through this depression thing again.”
“‘This depression thing’?For the record, depression isn’t a weird phase, Mom. Anyway, I’m not depressed. I actually feel great. So great that I don’t want to be in a job I hate.”
“Hate? How can you say that? It’s your legacy.”
“I really wish you and Dad would stop saying that. It’s not my legacy—it’s your pipe dream.”
Her mother gasped. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Are you taking your medicine? Are you going to your therapy sessions?”
“Mom, stop.”
“I don’t think you realize what you’ve done. I don’t know if I can fix it for you this time.”
Fix it for her? Her mother had never fixed one damn thing for her. She’d never intervened, had never done anything but shore up the impossible standard by which Nora and Lacey had to live, and then demand they be thinner and prettier while they did it. She had neverbeen on Nora’s side.
“I’m not asking you to do anything for me, Mom. I don’t want your help. I’m doing what is best for me.”
“Best for you? How selfish. What about your father?”
Nora was incensed. “You must be joking,” she said hotly. “Mom... you knowhow he is.”
There was a long pause. “I know that everyone has more than one side, Nora. Your father is a good man. Look how much money he’s raised in Nathan’s name.”
“Yeah... for a son he lost thirty years ago.”
“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was,” her mother snapped. “The death of a child is a grief you can never overcome. You have no idea, Nora.”
It was true she had no idea what it was like to lose a child, but she knew what it was like to lose a twin. She’d longed to know him. She’d felt his presence missing in her life even though she never knew him. “Maybe not,” Nora said. “But meanwhile, I’m still here.”
“I can’t have this conversation right now.” The screen went black. Her mother had hung up on her. Nora regretted she hadn’t done it first.
She spent the rest of the day trying to stay out of her head, researching the property tax issue with Catherine’s theater. She texted Gus a couple of times, first asking him to weigh in on which jersey she should wear to play basketball. Spurs or Mavs?
His response was a thumbs-up.
Paint class this week! Want me to pick you up?
Gus texted a simple C U there.
She groaned and texted him the time and place. Her attempt to engage him wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped.
James called midafternoon. “How’s life without a job?”
“It’s like that feeling you get when you eat so much Mexican food that you can’t even breathe.” Her gaze meandered over to the pile of bills on her kitchen bar. No wonder.
“Regretting it?”
“Not for a minute,” Nora said firmly. “How is it there?”
“Awful. Everyone is walking on eggshells. Charles and Melinda came into your office and looked around like a pair of vultures. Nora, if I’m forced to work for them—”
“As soon as I get a job, I’ll send for you.”
“Right.” He sighed wearily. “That’s why I’m calling. Maxwell and Graeber canceled the interview.”
And just like that, it felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. “What?”
“I called to give them your personal cell, and I was informed by Ms. Ranstein that they had filled the position from within.”
“But they just called me,” Nora said and sank down onto her bed.
“Firms do that all the time. You have other résumés out, right?”
“Two dozen at least.”
“Someone will want you.”
Her confidence bubble began to leak—would anyone want her before she was tossed out of her apartment? Before she was hauled off to debtors’ prison or whatever they did in the twenty-first century?
Nora promised James that she’d call the moment she had a job lead. When she hung up, she gripped both hands into tight fists and pressed them against her knees to keep the buzz from rising into her chest.
She’d spent exactly one day unemployed so far. One. Day.
Believe, she told herself. Dr.Cass said it would all fall into place. She had no choice but to trust that.
At five minutes to five o’clock, she was standing outside the Delores Duffie Recreation Center wearing a vintage Nike T-shirt emblazoned with the “Do it!”slogan, a find at Goodwill. She peered longingly through the clouded windows of the doors to the basketball courts.
At ten past five, just when she’d begun to think Willow had stood her up, a minivan pulled up, the side panel door slid open, and Willow hopped out with her ball. Three girls followed. The four of them walked to the entrance loose-limbed, tall, and exuding youth. They came to a halt where Nora was standing and eyed her curiously.
“An audience,” Nora said. “I like it. Are you sure you want them to see me slaughter you on the court?”
“Whooooaaaa,” one of the girls said with a laugh.
“She’s like that,” Willow said to her friends. “She talks a lot.”
“I’m Nora. I’m here to play some hoops.”
“Don’t try to be, like,fly,” Willow warned her. “No one says that.”
“Noted.” She was dying to ask what they did say.
“Are we going in or what?” Willow asked.
Inside, Nora reserved a block of time, handed over her driver’s license, then followed the girls. It had been a lifetime since she’d stepped on a court, but the excitement for it was still there, the desire to play still pumping.
The gym was full—a kids’ basketball clinic was underway at one end, and kids were gathered in groups on the bleachers, waiting their turn.
When their time came, Nora discovered instantly that whatever skill she might have thought she possessed remained in the Before. Willow’s first pass of the ball to her was so hard that she was forced back a couple of steps. It went downhill from there. Nora’s shots were wide and short. The girls were physical, as was the fashion on the professional circuit these days—they slammed into her when guarding her, knocking her down more than once, then laughing at how gracelessly she got up.
Willow was the hardest on her. She made a quick move around Nora as she went in for a layup, hip checking her, and Nora went flying, landing hard on her back and then sliding into the wall headfirst. Nora’s first thought was that the kid was strong. Her second thought was that she didn’t know if she could move.
Basketball? Really, Nora?
Sprawled on the floor with the wind knocked out of her, she heard her inner athlete telling her to get up. Had she really believed she could still run circles around everyone on the court? That she was some sort of phenom?
Willow walked over and stared down at her for a long moment. “Her eyes are open,” she announced to the other girls. She disappeared, but in her place was a woman with silver glasses, a whistle around her neck, and a name tag that said Wanda. Nora recognized her as one of the clinic coaches.
“Don’t move,” she commanded Nora. “Did you hit your head?”
“Not hard,” Nora said. “My butt is the injured part.” She tried again to get up, but Wanda put a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t move. You could be seriously injured. You went down hard, and at your age, you have to be especially careful.”
“I’m thirty-one,” Nora protested. She tried to sit up again but winced at the pain in her lower back.
“Stay still,” said a masculine voice.
Now two firefighters were peering down at her. “Really?” she said to Wanda. “You called an ambulance?”
“You can’t be too careful with head injuries,” Wanda said.
Willow and the girls had gone back to playing, ignoring the triage that was going on at the side of the court.
As it turned out, Nora was no phenom. At least nothing was broken. The thing about sports is, you fall, and you get back up. She imagined Grandpa in the bleachers, encouraging her to find her feet. She finally stood up. Her head throbbed, her ankle throbbed, and she could hardly move her left shoulder. And even though she refused to go to the hospital for a more thorough examination, Wanda—who was also the recreation center manager—put her on concussion protocol.
“Meaning?” Nora asked as Wanda handed her an official-looking piece of paper.
“Meaning you are not allowed on the court for two weeks. After that, we’ll need a doctor’s note clearing you before you can play here.”
“No!” Nora protested. “Come on, I’m fine. You don’t understand—I need this.”
“Then, honey, you need to get in shape. This was all in the papers you signed.”
Nora deflated. So much for her triumphant return to sports—she felt old, puffy, and delusional. She had no job, a mountain of bills, a garden that wasn’t growing, two small cuts from picking up all the dishes she’d broken at cooking class, and her inner athlete was sucking wind. Her confidence bubble had completely burst.
Forlorn, she retreated to the bleachers to nurse the tatters of her pride.
When the allotted time was up, Willow and the girls joined Nora. “Are we too much for you, Grandma?” Willow asked jovially.
“Looks like,” Nora admitted. “You guys are good. You ought to be in a league.”
“Can’t,” Willow said. “You have to have an adult coach and a sponsor.”
“Ask one of your parents.”
“Duh. We have.”
A shadow slipped past Nora’s peripheral vision. She turned; Tanya was standing there, listening. “Girls, get your things.”
The girls went courtside to get their discarded bookbags, calling out to the boys playing at the other end of the court.
Tanya took a seat next to Nora. “I thought you said you were good.”
“I sincerely thought I was.” Nora wiped perspiration from her face. “Willow is really good.”
Tanya nodded. “I know.”
“Is there really no one who can take them on?”
Tanya turned her gaze to Nora. “What’s so hard for you to understand? These girls, all their parents work long hours. No one’s got time for this. The league is hours of practice and then games on weekends. What about my other kids?”
Nora felt instantly contrite. “You’re right; I don’t understand. I don’t understand so much we could fill a book.”
Tanya gave her a slim smile. “Are you coming again after you’re allowed back in? Wanda doesn’t kid about a doctor’s note. Or have you fulfilled your fantasy?”
Nora rubbed her aching shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“Well, here’s my number just in case,” Tanya said and handed her a business card. “See you in cooking class.”
“Right. The other place I suck,” Nora muttered.
“True... but not as bad as you suck on the court.” Tanya chuckled at her joke, patted Nora on the shoulder, and went to collect the girls.
Nora grimaced in pain all the way home. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse—her ego or her body. When she walked into her apartment, she leaned her back against the door and looked around her apartment, her gaze landing on her bills. Her gardening handbook. Her laptop. Her combat boots.
What the hell was she doing? She wanted desperately to believe that she’d been elementally changed by her NDE and that she could forge a new life. But could she really? The fear of failing and the doubt in her own abilities were rumbling around, trying to gain a foothold.
She needed a lifeline. It was after hours, but Dr.Cass had invited her to call if she needed to. Nora needed to.
“Nora,” Dr.Cass trilled when she answered the phone.
“I know I should wait until our next appointment, but I’ve done something a little scary, and I’m feeling anxious.”
“We do need to speak about your next appointment—”
“I quit my job,” Nora blurted.
“Goodness,” Dr.Cass said.
The story tumbled out of Nora—how she’d felt sick about that terrible bus case and had quit. Just up and walked out. She told Dr.Cass about all the brick walls she was encountering in trying to find Jack, and the job opportunity she’d had and lost within twenty-four hours, and how she was on concussion protocol and was beginning to flounder, scared of what she’d set in motion.
“But look at all the great progress you’ve made,” Dr.Cass said.
“Progress?” Had she heard anything Nora had said? “I have no job or money to pay rent and bills. My dad told me to get it together and grow up, and maybe he’s right. Maybe...” She sucked in a breath. Fear and doubt clouded out all the sunshine she’d managed to hang on to. “Maybe I’m kidding myself,” she admitted. “My medical bills are piling up. I needthat job. That’s what I mean—I’m paying attention to things that aren’t important and completely disregarding the things that are.” She could feel the dark side of her brain slowly awakening. “Oh my God, I’m losing it.”
“That is self-defeating talk, Nora. You’re not losing it. Now, you may have thought you could make a list of regrets and then simply rectify them with no trouble whatsoever, but life rarely works that way. I think it’s very encouraging that you stood up to your father and went off to pursue the things youwant to pursue. Without a doubt, it will be challenging. There will be setbacks. You’ll need to continue to take a hard look at how you got here. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“How am I supposed to believe that when I need an income and I’m terrible at the things I thought would make me happy? What if I’m setting myself up for disaster all because I had a stupid accident and think I had some sort of grand epiphany?”
“Be grateful for that epiphany,” Dr.Cass said. “You’re seeking meaning from your life, and from meaning, your happiness will flow. Don’t you think that’s what the reverse bucket list is all about? You’re doing a complete one-eighty, and that is a significant challenge on the best day. You’re not defeated, Nora; you’re rebuilding.”
Nora wanted to believe her.
“In yoga, students are encouraged to take deep breaths because when you breathe deeply, your body understands that it is safe to open more. Breathe deeply, Nora. Let yourself open to this new life.”
Yes, deep breaths. “Right. Okay. Thanks, Dr.Cass. I won’t take any more of your time—”
“About our session this week,” Dr.Cass said. “Your insurance company denied the claims.”
Nora’s face turned hot. She felt unsteady, a little nauseous. She needed Dr.Cass. “Are you sure?”
“I spoke to a representative today. Your mental health benefits are extremely limited on your company plan, and you’ve maxed out the number of outpatient visits for the year. Going forward, you’ll need to pay out of pocket.”
Nora’s breath caught in her throat. How could she pay for therapy on top of everything else?
“Unfortunately, that’s the situation. In the meantime, Nora, practice believing in yourself. Nothing worth having ever came easy.”
Well, that was painfully obvious.