Chapter 15 #2
“I wouldn’t want to choose something boring like a restaurant. That’s not much of a date either.” I churn the options over in my brain for a moment, as if it’s a scientific question worthy of research. “Let’s say we challenged each other to the Mountain High Marathon.”
“You know about that?” she asks, incredulous, which makes me laugh.
“Nora, I was unpopular. I wasn’t incapable of hearing.”
The Mountain High Marathon wasn’t a race in the traditional sense, but a challenge for high school seniors to complete before graduation—
You were supposed to do it with a girl. Climb onto the high school’s roof in the middle of the night, take a selfie, and then watch the sun rise over the highest hill on campus, cleverly named Hi-Hill, before going to Waffle House.
It wasn’t difficult. It was basically an excuse for people to make out.
“Did you do it?” she asks.
“I’d prefer not to implicate myself in a crime. You might get pissed off at me and turn me in.”
“Hey, if I didn’t narc on Nathaniel and his stock of homegrown drugs, I’m not about to narc on you for breaking school rules twelve years ago.”
“Did you do it?”
She waggles her eyebrows at me. “With Justin Greene.”
I free one hand from the wheel to tap my chest. “You wound me.”
“So you’re saying we did this together on our hot date?”
“Just the part where we climbed onto the roof. It’s where I first kissed you.”
She makes a humming sound, as if she’s searching the story for flaws. Finally, she says, “That sounds nice.”
Yes, yes it does.
I’ve been thinking about it since I was sixteen.
Apple Ridge has a small but busy downtown area, and all its side streets are named after apples.
The main street, all of four blocks long, is lined with little shops in various shades of green and red, which feels like an over-the-top homage to the fruit.
There are also apple sculptures on every block.
One is covered in mosaic tiles, another is formed from wire, and so on.
“This place is something,” I say as I drive past the awning for the restaurant—the Laughing Leaf—before we pull into the closest town parking lot.
It’s free to park here, which is a surprise, since Apple Ridge is only forty-five minutes away from Asheville.
Most of the lots in our city switched to paid years ago.
“You hate it,” Nora says with a grin as she gets out of the car before I can even think about opening her door.
“I don’t,” I say, climbing out too. “But it feels performative, and I’m starting to question whether I like apples enough to be here.”
She comes around the car and touches my wrist. “I love crunchy apples. Are we having our first fight?”
“Oh, it certainly wouldn’t be our first.”
I can practically hear Ann screaming in my ear, Offer her your arm, you fool. So I hold my elbow out to her.
She looks confused. I feel my face heating, but I say, “We should walk into the restaurant arm in arm. Give them a show. Or I can give you a piggyback ride. Then they’ll really think we’re in love. Only idiots in love walk around like that.”
She gives me an Oh Cormac smile, then threads her arm through mine. We cross the road together, my heart thrumming fast in my chest, and I know it’s not because I’m going to have to lie. Or because there’s a good chance Nora is only trying to break up José and Pansy because she’s in love with him.
It’s because she’s walking with me, our sides pressed together, and her ginger scent is all around me.
I’m here, on Main Street, about to walk the half block to a restaurant called the Laughing Leaf, and I’m happy because we’re together.
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asks in an undertone as we veer around a couple with a little girl who’s licking an ice cream cone destined for the sidewalk.
“I’m happy,” I say simply. “It probably won’t last for long, but this is a good moment.”
She surprises me by looking me in the eye and grinning back. “It is, isn’t it?”
I’m sure she doesn’t find it enjoyable because she’s with me, but I’ll let myself think it for a moment. What’s the harm in a little self-delusion on a pleasant day? Admittedly, the weather isn’t pleasant—the sun is beating down on us—but at least it’s not raining.
It only takes us another few seconds to reach the green awning for the Laughing Leaf. I give Nora a here goes nothing look as I reach in front of her and open the door.
Her gaze dips down to my forearm as she enters, and I wonder if Ann knows what she’s talking about after all.
Nora whispers, “Every time you hold the door, I know you’re secretly unhappy about it.”
“Nah, I’m happy to perform meaningless gestures for you.”
A woman with a faded blond dye job and a wide, slightly manic smile is perched behind a hostess stand near the door. The podium itself looks like it was cobbled together from sticks as part of a fifth grader’s shop project.
I sigh.
“Welcome, welcome,” the hostess says. “Do you have a reservation?”
We give her José’s name, and she clucks her tongue. “Oh dear. Hopefully, you two lovebirds can get out there and turn those frowns upside down.”
“They’ve been arguing?” Nora asks, clearly interested.
I am not, although I suppose it’s good news for her objective if they’re already bickering.
Manic-smile woman mimes zipping her lips. “Oh dear, I put my foot in it, didn’t I? But I’m sure seeing you two will do wonders for them.” Her gaze dips to our linked arms, and her grin broadens. “Come on back. They’re outside on the patio.”
I suppress a groan. It’s incredibly hot, not exactly patio weather.
We follow her out the back door and onto the patio, which is at least shaded. I spot our table just as Pansy throws a balled napkin at José. His attention was fixed on the door, so it knocks him in the nose.
The only other person sitting out here is a tired-looking woman situated near the door. Said woman gives the hostess an urgent look. “Can I have my check, please?”
“Of course, dear,” the hostess replies, completely unhurried, and then waves us toward the white metal table set for four. The two empty chairs next to José and Pansy have white cushions with a printed pattern of leaves.
As we make our approach, Pansy’s face, which was compressed with rage before she noticed us, transforms.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” She gives us a hollow smile that reminds me of a collectible doll my mother owned when I was a child.
When she and my father went out to dinner one night, I buried it in the backyard, but my guilt was such that I dug it back up a few days later—only to discover the doll had become more horrifying.
One of the eye sockets had popped out and a worm had taken up residence in the hollow cranium.
I smile back, certain my expression looks just as fixed and doll-like.
She rises to her feet and, to my horror, wraps her arms around me, tugging my face down to her vanilla-scented neck. Her perfume is even sweeter than I remember, and I jerk back abruptly.
“Uh. I’m not much of a hugger, but it’s nice to see you. Here, Nora, a chair.” I pull out one of the empty ones, and Nora gives me a conspiratorial smile as she sits.
I sit beside her, feeling at a bit of a loss now that we’re all here. I suppose we’re supposed to talk, so I clear my throat and say, “It’s a bit hot out here.”
José sighs. “You’re telling me. I wanted to sit inside, but—”
“Oh, it’s so lovely and private out here,” Pansy says.
The woman who asked for her check sighs dramatically and heads inside, either deciding to dine and dash or to try and settle up in there.
“Well, it’s private now,” I comment.
“I just wanted to say I’m a big fan of yours,” Pansy tells me, beaming as she leans in close. Alas, she’s sitting next to me at our small, round table, with José on her other side.
“A fan of…mine?” I say.
“Oh, he’s too modest.” This she says to Nora, who shrugs. “He is. Definitely too modest.”
“About what?”
“We heard about your big sale,” Pansy says. “What are you planning on doing now? Are you looking to invest?”
I adjust my glasses unnecessarily and reach for two of the menus stacked on the table, handing one to Nora.
“I guess so.” I open the menu, hoping Pansy will realize I’d prefer not to discuss my semiretirement plans with a stranger.
But there’s not much to read. Each entrée is represented by a picture of a smiling vegetable, with a list of potential allergens written beside it.
“Is there a different menu for people who enjoy knowing what they’re getting? ”
“It’s all about the experience,” Pansy says.
If she insists.
“Anyway, I was just telling José that I figured you’d be into investing,” she continues. “Invest for more success. That’s what people say.”
“Do they?”
“Pansy,” José says in an undertone.
She glances at Nora. “Since I wasn’t able to do my presentation for you the other day, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind terribly if I present it over dinner.
I thought Cormac might be interested too.
Pads by Pansy is on the verge of blowing up.
This is the perfect opportunity to get in on the ground level. ”
“This isn’t a business meeting,” José says, sounding pissed off. “They want to enjoy dinner. We can arrange a rain check for the presentation. Like I said.”
“No need. We’d love to hear your presentation,” Nora says, which is such a blatant lie that I can only stare at her in horror. Surely, she doesn’t mean it.
Does she expect me to actually invest in this woman’s business? Just how far am I supposed to roll with this?
The good feeling from earlier seeps away, and I’m left feeling used.
Nora doesn’t want to spend time with me, and she definitely doesn’t give a shit about my rolled-up sleeves or the stupid, destructive crush I had on her in high school. She only cares about ending her friend’s relationship—whatever it takes.
She’s in this for José, because he’s someone she cares about. Maybe she still wants to sleep with him, maybe not, but it’s obvious he’s the only person at this table who matters to her.
Nora beams at me. “Do you mind, honey?”
“Yes, a little.”
She laughs as if I said something funny. “Oh, he’s only joking.”
“I need a drink,” I say. “Would anyone else like a drink?”
José swears under his breath and wipes his forehead. “Yes, please.”