Chapter 19 #2
“I forgot to water your plant a few days ago,” I admit. “And I seriously considered letting Dottie and Ann into your house to leave that present I brought over.”
He stares me down from beneath a furrowed brow.
Huh. His eyebrows look less fluffy than usual. I wonder if Mrs. Applebaum-Peebles grooms them for him.
“Your eyebrows look different,” I comment.
“They look great,” Nora says before glugging a long gulp of red wine.
I snap my fingers. “Did they do it at your couples spa thing?”
There, I was listening.
My father frowns but runs a finger over his eyebrows, one after the other. “My eyebrows are beside the point.”
“Where were you two on Thursday evening?” Mrs. Applebaum-Peebles asks Nora, giving her a you’re-in-deep-trouble look.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“We were having dinner with José and Pansy in Apple Ridge,” Nora says, not missing a beat.
“We’re telling them the truth?” I ask, earning myself a dirty look and a little kick, which is somehow no less alluring than the caress she gave my foot a few moments ago.
Nora’s dark eyebrows furrow. “Yes, I think that would be best.”
Turning back toward our parents, who are watching us with expressions I can’t begin to comprehend, Nora says, “We saw you in the bookstore, but we didn’t want to interrupt your honeymoon, especially since you made such a big deal of not telling anyone where you were headed.”
“Why on earth would you two be having dinner with José and Pansy?” her mother asks.
“Cormac volunteered to help me unmask Pansy.”
“Unmask her?” my dad huffs. “What is this, Scooby-Doo?”
“Exactly,” Nora says, giving me a so there look. “She’s been engaged twice before. Cormac found out. We were hoping we could get more information out of her over dinner.”
“I fail to see what this has to do with either of you,” her mother says in a clipped voice. “We always suspected she was unpleasant, but José is a grown man. He’ll have to figure it out for himself.”
“Like you did?” Nora counters, her chin lifted, her eyes full of fire. “Excuse me if I’d like to save someone I care about from decades of a bad marriage.”
Mrs. Applebaum-Peebles opens and then closes her mouth. I’ve never seen her at a loss for words before, but Nora often steals my ability to speak too, so I understand completely.
My father glowers at Nora. “Nora, that’s quite enough.”
I get to my feet quickly and put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s take care of the dishes.”
No one has finished their meal, but it’s clear dinner is over.
Dear God, I hope dinner is over.
Nora stares at our parents for another long moment. Her bottom lip is trembling, her eyes still full of rebellion. She’s obviously at war with herself, but she finally gets to her feet.
“All right,” she says in a small voice.
We clear the dishes together while our parents sit sipping their wine. Her mother looks nearly close to tears, and my father is murmuring to her in a low voice.
I’m at a loss, so I do what I’ve taken to doing in distressing or baffling moments.
I pull out my phone and text Dottie Hendrickson.
What can I do to make a middle-aged woman happy?
Nora, who started filling the dishwasher, pauses.
“I don’t want to apologize,” she says after a moment.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I reply.
“You think I should, though. I can tell.”
I have to smile at that. “I wasn’t aware of thinking that, but yeah, I guess you’re right. I think you should.”
“It was terrible, growing up with them.” She’s speaking in a harsh whisper, her body full of tension. “Seeing her take all of his bullshit, again and again.”
I hold her gaze, seeing the fury there, but also the deep sadness behind it.
I want to tuck her up against me, the way she was the other night, but I don’t know how she’d react if I hugged her. Especially here, in our parents’ house.
I don’t know where I stand with Nora, but at least I can tell her the truth.
“I’ll bet he never apologized.”
She recoils as if I’d struck her.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I don’t know anything about the situation.” I hesitate, because honestly that’s not true. “Except for everything my father has told me. Which is admittedly kind of a lot.”
I know Nora’s father was a serial cheater who used to teach courses about the psychology of lying. I also know that he tricked Mrs. Applebaum-Peebles, a very upstanding woman, into believing all of his lies for many years.
Nora smiles at me, her eyes still full of raw emotion. “You make apologizing sound so easy.”
I shake my head. “No, Nora. None of this social stuff is easy for me. It never will be.”
I hadn’t meant to say that, but I don’t take it back.
Nora’s gaze dances on my skin but also prickles, because I don’t know if she likes what she sees.
My phone buzzes, and I check the screen, grateful for the excuse to look away.
It’s Dottie.
Perhaps I’ve imbibed too much tonight, but I’m confused, dear. While I have nothing against a May-December romance, and indeed, my own man is younger than I am, I do hope this doesn’t mean you’ve already moved on from Nora. You two are perfect for each other.
I stifle a laugh, realizing I’d forgotten to include any context in my message, then type,
No. Nora’s mom is sad. I was hoping you might have some ideas for cheering her up.
That will never do. Tell Moira and Eugene to open the present.
I smile at Nora, who’s frowning at me.
“It’s Dottie. She and Ann and I have a group chat too.”
The annoyed grimace clears from her face.
“You’ve been texting Dottie?” she asks with a smile. “You didn’t even know who she was a couple of weeks ago.”
“A lot of things can change in two weeks. Look at you, not hating me.”
“I never hated you.”
“I’d prefer for you to hate me than not think of me at all.”
She looks stunned by this, and I have to admit, it doesn’t make much sense. But it’s still true.
“You were never invisible to me,” she says after a moment.
“Good.” I hesitate, wanting to touch her. Wanting to run my fingers over her soft cheek and kiss her, right here in the kitchen. But I can’t. Obviously I can’t. So I clear my throat and say, “Dottie says we should have your mom open the present.”