Chapter 6 Nora
Chapter 6 NORA
N ora rested her head on her hand, watching his lips approach the rim of his “cuppa,” as the British called it. She was mesmerized by the elegant way his big hands held the delicate china. Then something occurred to her.
“Wait, wait!” She touched his forearm. “I forgot sugar and milk. Be right back.”
Rain hit the kitchen windows with fury. Maybe, if she were alone, she would be frightened. But with Aiden there, she had nearly forgotten about the inclement weather. She barely noticed anything besides him.
Back at the table, he leafed through the magazine somewhat eagerly. Nora handed him the carton and the jar with sugar cubes. “So, any interesting celeb gossip?”
Her words seemed to jar him. “Pardon?”
“In the magazine,” she said, pointing at it. “Anything interesting?”
“Not at all,” he said, looking for hiding his face behind the periodical. “So, question number three: ‘Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?’”
She twisted her mouth. “Why would anyone rehearse a phone call?”
“Well . . .”
“Do you?”
He shrugged. “To be honest, I dislike telephones so much.”
“Got it. Never call Aiden.” Nora pretended to write a note to herself.
His distress was almost funny to watch. “No. I didn’t mean it like that. I wouldn’t mind you phoning me. Not assuming that you would, but if you did, I’d take your call any time of the day or the night. Not that you’d have any reason to think about me in the middle of the night, but if you ever did—oh, bloody hell.”
Nora wanted to laugh at how cute he looked whenever he tried to mend what he’d said before. It was funny—almost as if, when nervous, he couldn’t help but say exactly what he was thinking. Could she really call him in the middle of the night? Maybe she was reading too much into it.
“About the rehearsal,” Aiden harrumphed, seemingly eager to get back to question number three. “One time, I wrote a script for canceling my cable plan, reading it over and over until the poor lady finally gave up and agreed. Does that count as rehearsing? I think it does.”
Picturing someone as nice as Aiden rehearsing to talk with a call-center agent made Nora titter. “It definitely counts. Okay, now that I’m thinking about it, I guess I do rehearse sometimes. I plan out what I’m going to say before calling my boss to discuss a problem. He’s such a pain in the ass; he’s very literal and if you don’t use exactly the right words, you may end up with a bigger problem than the one you started out with. I like your idea of a script. I may try it sometime.”
“You teach me how to light a fire; I teach you how to write a phone-call script. It seems we can learn many things from each other.” The flustered look on Aiden’s face made her feel hot and cold at the same time. “Our next question, number four, is: ‘What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?’”
She leaned back, crossing her arms. “You go first.”
“Right. I guess... a day when I don’t have to do any dishwashing! No matter how many dishes you wash there will always be more. It’s like cutting the Lernaean Hydra’s heads, it’s never-ending.”
She stared at him, waiting for more. It never came. “Is that it?”
He nodded.
“There’s gotta be more you would want out of a perfect day. Come on.”
“Well, it depends on my mood. Sometimes I prefer sunny days, sometimes overcast days, even the occasional sleet is fine. See the storm raging outside?” Both turned their faces to the window, and lightning struck as if the sky had flashed a wicked smile at them. “If I were under that downpour, perhaps I would swear at my ill luck. But this here, this is nice. You know? It all depends on the context, in the end.”
Even though Nora understood he didn’t mean it as flirtation—he was just grateful—she stumbled on her next words. “I-I think this is nice... too. Thank you for keeping me company while the sky falls outside.”
“Thank you for giving me shelter so the sky doesn’t fall on my head, as the Gauls would say. So, how would your perfect day go?”
It would start with someone quoting Asterix , she thought, but didn’t dare say. She cleared her throat to show how seriously she took this whole thing. “To me, a perfect day would be to wake up with breakfast in bed, then go for a walk in Shelby Park, and it’d be a sunny day, but not too warm. I’d feed the ducks, eat popcorn, and stop to listen to someone playing a guitar. My friends Dipa, Vanessa, and Jay would join me for a picnic with fruit, cheese, and wine in the best European style.” Nora waited for his smile and was glad to find it. “After that, I guess I’d go for a massage in a nice spa that smells like lemongrass and plays calming music. In the afternoon, the sky would turn gray and, by the time I head back home, it’d be drizzling. My dog would be waiting for me by the door, wagging her tail. I’d light some candles, put on some music, and order Chinese food. Wait for the food while watching the rain outside through that window.” She pointed to the bay window by the side of the front door. Her stomach rumbled; she hoped the noise outside had been enough to muffle it. “When the food arrived,” she continued, “I’d eat while watching TV, with my dog sleeping by my side. The fortune in the fortune cookie would confirm this was my perfect day. Speaking of Chinese food... are you hungry?”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he said, “but since you asked... I am peckish, yes.”
“Good, because I’m starving,” Nora said. “By any chance, do you cook? I can’t make a meal to save my life. Even frozen pizza tastes funny when I bake it.”
“Yes, I cook. But I don’t—”
Nora didn’t let him finish. “I can wash the dishes.” She winked, hinting at his idea of a perfect day, then hoped he wouldn’t take her wink the wrong way. It was meant to be playful.
“I just don’t get two things about your perfect day, Nora,” Aiden said on their way to the kitchen. “One: where’s your dog? I’d love to meet her.”
“Oh, she’s with my mom. Unfortunately, I can’t give her all the attention she needs nowadays.”
Aiden nodded. “I see.”
“And the second thing?”
“Yes, of course. The second thing.” He cleared his throat. Despite keeping his voice casual, he looked straight into her eyes as he asked, “Who would bring you breakfast in bed?”
Was he trying to find out if she had a boyfriend? Her insides tickled, and Nora decided to give him an answer as indirect as his question. “That I leave for the universe to decide.” Nora winked again, and this time it wasn’t exactly playful.
Damn, she was entering dangerous territory. What was happening to her self-control?
The slightest smile curled Aiden’s lips. “Right. The universe.”