Chapter 8 Nora
Chapter 8 NORA
N ora was pretty sure she saw Aiden’s cheeks flame. Was he thinking about her perfect day? Or was the house too warm for him? Jay always complained that she tried to recreate Brazil’s climate at home. Anyway, Aiden looked good with flushed cheeks. Way too good. “Answering the question, I’m pretty sure I’ll die riding a rollercoaster. That’s why I never ride them.”
It soon became obvious that Aiden loved rollercoasters—and everything else about amusement parks. While she loaded the dishwasher, he went on and on, and on and on again. Nora was about to say she preferred the shy version of Aiden, the version who stumbled upon words—but that was a complete lie.
She made her best snoozy face. “I’m dying here. Help.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Isn’t there anything you like about amusement parks? Not even a Ferris wheel? Or the merry-go-round? You must have fond memories from days and rides at parks.”
She frowned. “Must I?”
“Teen boyfriends?” he suggested.
Nora’s laugh hid her juvenile embarrassment. But did it matter what he thought of her? “No, no teen boyfriends. I was ugly as hell. And clumsy, and weird.”
“Is there a single person in this world who was an attractive teenager? I doubt it. My word, was I hideous,” Aiden said. “And shy. The perfect invisibility package.”
Nora could hardly imagine that Aiden had ever been hideous. “At least boys are willing to make the first move. Young girls are usually too insecure; they always wait around hoping.”
He took the last sip from his glass, which prompted her to do the same. “I assure you that is not true.”
Aiden gave her a serious face, and they burst out laughing together. It intrigued Nora how little it took for her to feel comfortable with him. She was almost treating him as an old friend. The idea scared her a bit; sometimes she could be a little too honest and a little too direct with her friends and loved ones. How would he take it?
Aiden, she found, had a way of letting his body speak for him. And his eyes, oh, they said a lot. His gaze—timid in the beginning—was becoming more intense by the minute. She loved the way his cheeks turned pink when he said something witty, how his hands sometimes seemed to crave to touch her yet pulled back before they did. It was an entirely new language to Nora. Was she reading him right?
“All right, enough with puberty. Eighth question: ‘Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common,’” Aiden said, then cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I won’t have any deep answers here. We hardly know each other. But here it goes: we have both lived in Nashville at some point in our lives; we’re both foreigners in a strange country; we both like to sit by the fire.”
His gaze flitted to the fireplace.
“Is that an invitation?” she asked.
He gave her a roguish grin. “I’m sure you agree that things are more pleasant when done by the fire.”
His words sent a shiver right down Nora’s spine. “Are they?”
“Yes. Answering questionnaires, for example. Though we can still shout the questions and answers to each other across the living room if you prefer.”
Nora had an idea of another thing that was very pleasant when done by the fireplace, but she wouldn’t let herself continue that line of thought.
Outside, the storm kept punishing Nashville. She glanced at the empty glasses between them on the table. Only one thing left to make this a remarkable night. Okay, maybe two. “Let me get us the long-awaited red. You can’t sit by my fireplace without wine, you know.”
Aiden agreed. “That’s a great rule to live by.”
Nora chose the best bottle—a prized Malbec—among the three in the cabinet. Aiden seemed to be someone who would appreciate a quality wine. Also, she felt that having a beautiful stranger in her home—who had a connection with the house, no less—deserved celebration.
Her house guest sat in the navy-blue armchair, the one she’d bought in a flea market. One of his feet rested on top of the opposite knee in that charming yet uptight way of his she was starting to enjoy.
“Let go of that magazine. These questions are so lame, something fifth-grade girls enjoy.” Nora lounged on her large couch, hoping the wine would spark more interesting conversation.
Easy with the wine. He seems nice, but he’s still a stranger , she reminded herself . Watch yourself, Nora.
She grabbed the corkscrew but, before she had a chance to reach for the bottle, Aiden took it. “Please, allow me.”
He pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie, and his forearm muscles danced beautifully as his hands worked on the bottle.
I bet those hands would do a great job working on me.
The thought came as fast as the lightning outside, and Nora immediately scolded herself. She took the glass of wine he offered her and pointed at the magazine. “I guess they weren’t that lame. Where were we?”
“Three things we appear to have in common.”
“Yes. Do they have to differ from yours?”
“I guess so.”
She bit a nail. “We... both like pasta.”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t like pasta?”
“You have a point. What else do we have in common? We both seem to enjoy a good session of... questions.” She gave him a side glance and a sly smile. “Oh, I know. We both enjoy the rain. Not everyone does.” As if on cue, thunder boomed. “And we don’t have good posture.”
Self-conscious, both straightened their backs.
“That was four,” he said.
“Should I take one back, then?”
“Yes. The one about good posture, of course. Look at us, two ballet dancers.”
“Okay, I take that one back, Billy Elliot.”
Aiden’s guffaw was a little too effusive for such a silly joke, but she rejoiced in it. He poured himself a glass of wine, and proposed a toast.
“To rain, and tornados, and coincidences.”
She repeated his words, the clink of their glasses reminding her of the nights she used to spend with Jay, drinking wine by the fire. They talked a lot, but their conversations were never this deep. Their sole subjects were work, friends, telenovelas—her obsession—and Marcie Jameson—Jay’s. Two years together, and Nora wouldn’t know Jay’s answers to many of the questions in the magazine. She somehow knew more about Aiden after a few short hours than she knew about Jay after all the time they spent together. The thought should disconcert her, but she found it more... interesting.
He stared at his glass of wine. “And here’s another thing that is more pleasant by the fireplace.”
“What was the first thing again?” Nora asked, unable to contain her teasing.
“Answering questionnaires, remember?” But he had a gleam in his eye.
What they both had in mind made Nora’s heartbeat kick up a notch and her toes curl inside her socks.
No exceptions. Not on the bed, not by the fire, nowhere.
“Okay, let’s continue.” Nora grabbed the magazine and flipped through it, looking for the quiz. “What page was it? I can’t find it.”
“Twenty-two, if I’m not mistaken,” he said.
Page twenty-two showed a couple resting their foreheads against each other. “36 Questions to Fall in Love,” it read. According to a study, the questions could speed up closeness between two willing participants.
Nora squinted her eyes at him. “Aiden... are you trying to make me fall in love with you?” And then leave for California first thing in the morning, as if nothing happened?
He hid his face behind his glass, but his voice didn’t waver. “Do you believe questions can make people fall in love?”
“No, but don’t you think you should consult your questionnaire partner about it first?”
“You’re absolutely right. Forgive me.” He lowered his head in obvious embarrassment, and she felt bad for being hard on him.
Nora thought about suggesting they find some other way to pass the time, but she was curious about the rest of the questions and his answers. And now that she knew the alleged aim, she could be on her guard. “A questionnaire for falling in love. This is ridiculous.”
“Shall we continue, then?”
“Shall we continue breaking the rules, you mean?” Nora pointed her finger at him. “We should be taking turns asking and answering. That’s what it says here in the instructions. You’ve been cheating!”
His hand went up in surrender. “Didn’t you just say this is ridiculous?”
“It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t follow the rules. If we’re playing the game, we’re playing by the rules.”
His lips curved into a barely there smile. “The game that’s supposed to make us fall for each other.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you realize how stupid it sounds?”
“I know, right?” Their chortles muffled a clap of thunder that boomed outside, and once again she was glad Aiden was with her during the storm.
The mood in the living room was lighter now, and they were both more relaxed, he lounged in the armchair closer to the fire, she cozied up on the sofa. But Nora couldn’t relax completely. What if the game worked?
Another clap of thunder made her decide they should continue anyway. She needed the distraction and it was just a silly magazine quiz.
“Okay, let me see the next one,” she said. “Question nine: ‘For what in your life do you feel most grateful?’ That’s easy—air conditioners. God bless whoever invented air conditioners. I’m forever grateful. You?”
Aiden frowned. “Air conditioners, Nora?”
“Yeah. I can’t stand the cold, but I also can’t stand the heat, either.”
“Right. Air conditioners are brilliant, I give you that. But isn’t there something more... meaningful in your life that you’re grateful for?”
Could he read her mind? There was something she was grateful for, something that she’d been mulling over all day but hadn’t really thought about it since encountering Aiden in front of her house. “Yes. I’m grateful for keeping my job.”
“That’s nice.” As she remained silent, he continued. “Are you going to elaborate, or just keep me wondering if something happened?”
“I don’t want to bother you with work-related stuff.”
“It’s no bother.” Aiden leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Anything you want to share, I’m willing to hear.”
With half of his face lit by the fireplace flames, his strong jaw was in full display and his eyes seemed to look straight into her soul. If Aiden kept looking at her like that, Nora feared that she’d reveal all of her deepest secrets.
She sighed. “I lead a team at work. Seven people. They’re great—smart, hard-working, quirky, funny—and I adore them. And I need to fire every single one of them.”
“Why?”
“Mass layoffs. We’re losing one of our biggest clients, so the company will have to let some people go. It’s awful, you know. One of my colleagues, Dave, has four children. How do I tell this family they won’t have an income in a few weeks?”
“That’s rough. I’m so sorry.”
“At the same time, it could have been me. Luckily, the company still needs me, so I get to keep my job. That’s why I’m grateful for it. But I put myself in their shoes, and it’s just so horrible. They will find a way—they’re brilliant, I know they will—but I’ve been dreading giving them the bad news all day.” It wasn’t until she was walking home in the rain that she even started to process all that happened in these last two days. And that’s when she saw Aiden standing in front of her house. “This used to be my dream job. Now I don’t know how I feel about it.”
“Dreams are treacherous,” Aiden said with a pensive look.
Indeed . “Okay, now you. What are you grateful for?”
“Only one thing? Let me think it through. I have so much to be grateful for, it’s difficult to choose just one. And there’s so much we take for granted.”
“That’s for sure. But for the sake of the game ,” she emphasized the word, “you need to pick one. Whatever comes to mind, shoot.”
Aiden took a sip of his wine. “Right now, I think I am most grateful for the ones I love. I live far from home, yet I’m able to stay in touch with my parents, my siblings, my niece, my close friends. It’s a privilege many don’t have.”
Fingers gripping the sofa, Nora waited for him to mention a wife, or a girlfriend. When he didn’t, her hands relaxed, but a cloud of sorrow started to form on the horizon of her thoughts.
“It is a privilege,” she said, and sipped her wine. It was hard having friends and family scattered across continents. Even so, she knew it was also a privilege to have seen as much of the world as she had. “Tell me about your niece.”
He pointed to the magazine. “Is this the next question?”
“Yes, of course. It’s right here. ‘Tell me about your niece.’ Do you think I would cheat?”
“You’re lucky that I love to talk about her to anyone who’s willing to listen, so I will let it slide.” He tried—and failed—to sound stern. “Charlie’s almost three now and is the sweetest child anyone could hope for. She’s my sister’s daughter and the light of my life. My happiest days are the ones when I get to babysit her. Here, let me show you her photo.”
Usually, people gushing about their kids and forcing pictures on Nora irritated her to no end. But Aiden spoke of his niece with such fondness she couldn’t bring herself to decline. And she had been the one to ask, after all.
When Aiden handed her his phone, Nora’s heart melted at the sight of him enveloping the child in a hug, her green eyes sparkling. They were both giggling, and Nora wondered what had caused it. Was he tickling her? Did he tell her favorite joke?
“Goodness, Aiden, she’s adorable! Except for the red hair and freckles, she looks just like you. Look at those dimples. If I saw you with her, I’d think she was your daughter.”
Something in his eyes went dark for a moment. Had she said something wrong? “She’s lovely, yes, and she’s the spitting image of her mother. To be her uncle is my utmost blessing.”
Nora swiped through a few more pictures until a strange image appeared on the screen. It had an artsy look to it, but with something amiss Nora couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Are you a conceptual photographer or something?”
Aiden gave her a crooked smile. “You know, that’s a beautiful explanation for it. The plain truth, though, is that I often open the camera without noticing, hence the abstract images. Thanks to these stubby appendages.” He wriggled his fingers in the air.
Those appendages looked anything but stubby. His hands were a work of art. “Don’t blame your fingers for your digital illiteracy. Here, let me set a password for your camera.”
“Please don’t do that,” he said, reaching from the armchair until his hand covered hers—and the phone. “I’ll never remember it and I’ll never be able to take another photo again. And I quite like my conceptual photos, thank you very much.”
Before she could respond, Nora’s phone rang. It was Dipa. “Excuse me, let me take this.”
“Hey, just checking in. Do you need me to fake an emergency?” her friend said.
“It’s fine, Dipa. I’m fine.”
“So Aiden McKenzie is treating you well?” asked Dipa.
Again with this cradle-robbing McKenzie shit? Dipa had no limits. “Everything’s okay. I promise.” Then, seeing that Aiden-not-McKenzie was about to put a log into the fireplace in a very weird position, she called out. “Aiden, no, not like that. You need to let the fire breathe.”
“The fireplace is lit? You being you, of course it is, what a silly question.” Dipa’s voice kicked up a notch. “Wait... don’t tell me there’s wine.”
“Well, yes.”
“Miss Oliveira Henning,” Dipa’s sly smile was evident over the phone, “this is so a date.”
“This is not a—” Nora refrained from continuing. Aiden went back to the blue armchair, face flushed with embarrassment. “It’s not. Are you two all right?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Vanessa is sound asleep, as if nothing’s happening. Let me know if you need me, okay?”
Nora smiled. It was good, this feeling that she could rely on someone at any time, day or night—for the good and the bad, the sweet and the sad. Nora recalled the afternoon, years ago, when she sprained her ankle during her first belly dance class in Nashville. A fellow dancer, one with the prettiest, blackest hair she had ever seen, kept Nora company as she waited for the taxi to the hospital and, once it arrived, she refused to let Nora go by herself. She even made sure Nora got safely back to her own house. The dancer’s name was Dipa.
“Always,” Nora said.
After she hung up, Nora checked her weather app. Nothing new: Seek shelter. Stay alert , the app warned. In this case, no news was good news.
Aiden apologized for his poor fire-tending skills and promised one day he would learn. Nora doubted it and looked at the magazine for the next question. “Number ten. ‘If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?’”
That cloud of sorrow descended, surrounding her like a thick fog. She let him speak first. She needed time to find the right words for her answer.
“I wish my mum wouldn’t have been so uptight. She’s fastidious to a fault—doomed was the one who left a little spoon unwashed in the sink. She would start screaming at no one in particular, so all of us would hear and suffer for it. Sure, I understand that cleanliness is important, and with three devil spawns as kids it was difficult to keep a tidy house, but still.”
Nora’s mother was sloppy and chaotic. What if she’d been a neat freak like Aiden’s mom? Would it change Nora’s approach to organization—or lack thereof?
Aiden stared at her, waiting for her answer. “If I could change one thing about my childhood, I’d want to exchange my father for a different one. Except for my German citizenship, everything else he gave me was pretty awful. His absence, his behavior, this freaking nose.”
“What do you mean?” Aiden scrunched his brow in genuine confusion.
“Oh, look at this,” Nora said, pointing a finger at her own nose. “The only reason I never considered a nose job is because I’m terribly afraid of surgery. If, in the near future, they invent a way to change a nose without surgery, I’m in.”
“I disagree! Your nose is your most striking feature. It was the first thing that caught my attention, if you don’t mind me saying.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke.
This nose? Not anything else?
Then it occurred to Nora that he was too much of a gentleman to mention her hips or her breasts. She found it sweet that he liked her nose. And she liked him more for this, for seeing beauty in something she didn’t like about herself.