14. New Menu
New Menu
NORA
Ian asked me to meet him at Aurelio's.
His birthday had come and gone three weeks earlier. He worked through it, the way he said he would. When I called to wish him a happy birthday, he told me he hadn't forgotten his promise. He was taking me to dinner. He just needed one more paycheck.
I told him it was too expensive. He told me it was his money and he could spend it however he wanted. I told him there were a hundred restaurants between here and the Strip that wouldn't cost him a full day's paycheck. He told me to be there at seven.
So I was there at seven.
I was waiting outside when I heard him.
"Nora!"
I turned. My brother was walking toward me in a button-down shirt tucked into dark slacks, his hair cut short and combed back, shoes I'd never seen before.
"Ian!" I threw my arms around him and held on longer than he probably wanted. When I pulled back, I held him at arm's length. "You look so put together I almost didn't recognize you."
He grinned. "I'm a working man now. Get used to it."
"No." I smoothed the collar of his shirt. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to it. You're always going to be my baby brother."
"Ugh." He glanced over his shoulder. "Good thing my friends aren't around."
We walked inside. Aurelio's had dark wood paneling, white tablecloths, and low brass lighting that made everything look warm and expensive.
A bar ran along the far wall with bottles arranged on shelves that went to the ceiling.
The hostess greeted us by the door, and a waitress walked us to a table for two near the window.
Ian pulled out my chair before I could sit down. I looked at him. He shrugged like it was nothing.
"Why did you pick this place?" I asked.
"Because I told you I was going to take you somewhere nice." He opened his menu. "So order whatever you want."
I looked at the menu. The prices were higher than anywhere Ian and I had eaten together. He watched me over his menu, waiting for me to pick something, proud that he was the one paying.
I picked a pasta dish in the mid-range. Ian was offering kindly, and I appreciated it more than he probably knew. But it didn't feel right to spend his money. He earned every dollar at that shop. I didn't need to order the most expensive thing on the page to show him I was grateful.
After we placed our orders, Ian sat back in his chair.
"So how have you been?"
"Good." I set my water glass down. "Actually, I've been wanting to tell you something. I'm seeing someone."
Ian's face broke open. "Hallelujah."
"Oh, stop it, Ian."
"See? I told you. I was the one standing in the way of you finding true love."
"You were not, and don't say it like that."
"So tell me about this guy."
I told him about Knox. That he was the firefighter who pulled me out of the fire, and that we kept running into each other after that, that he'd helped me find my car and taken me to Oatman for our first date.
I told him Knox was quiet and steady and paid attention to things most people didn't notice.
Ian listened with his chin in his hand, grinning the entire time.
"Is he good to you?"
"Yeah." I smiled. "He's really good to me."
"Good. Because if he's not, I know where the fire station is."
"Ian."
"I'm just saying."
He reached for his water glass, and I saw it. A cut across the back of his right hand, scabbed over but still fresh. Two inches long, jagged at the edges.
"What happened to your hand?"
He glanced down at it like he'd forgotten it was there. "Caught it on a fender at the shop. It happens."
"Did you clean it?"
"Yes, Nora. I cleaned it."
He pulled his hand back and picked up his fork. The conversation moved on, but I looked at that cut. It didn't look like a fender.
Ian had never lied to me. Not about anything that mattered. If he said it happened at the shop, then it happened at the shop, and I was the ER nurse who saw lacerations all day and couldn't stop diagnosing the people she loved.
I let it go.
"I wanted to talk to you about the lot," I said.
Ian looked up. "What about it?"
"Half of that property is yours, so I wanted to make sure we're on the same page about what we do with it."
He nodded slowly. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking we sell it. Use the money to start fresh somewhere that isn't tied to everything that happened there."
Ian was quiet. Then he said, "I trust your judgment, Nora. Whatever you think is best, I'm good with it."
"Are you sure? It's your decision too."
"I'm sure. You've always known what's best for us."
The tension I'd been holding for weeks let go. I'd been carrying that conversation for weeks, turning it over, trying to figure out how to bring it up without making it feel like I was erasing our childhood. But Ian didn't look hurt. He looked like he'd already made his peace with it.
"Okay." I smiled. "So I've actually been looking at apartments. I found a few two-bedrooms not too far from school. One of them is on the bus line, which would make your commute easy, and the rent is manageable."
Ian set his fork down.
"Nora."
"There's one on Decatur with a second bedroom that gets morning light. I thought it would be perfect for you."
"Nora."
"Yeah?"
"I'm not going back to school."
The restaurant noise filled the space where my voice had been. Silverware clinking. A couple laughing two tables over. The bartender shaking something behind the bar.
"What do you mean you're not going back to school?"
"I mean I'm not enrolling for the fall. I've thought about it, and I'm better off working. I'm making real money at the shop. I'm learning a trade. I don't need a diploma to do what I'm doing."
"Ian, you promised me."
"I know what I said. But things are different now. I have a job that's paying me well, and I'm good at it. If I keep working, I don't have to depend on you for money anymore. You've been carrying me for six years, Nora. Let me carry myself."
I stared at him across the table. The button-down shirt. The new shoes. The dinner at a restaurant he could barely afford. All of it paid for by a job at a shop I'd never been inside.
"Ian, I've told you already. You don't have to worry about money. That has never been your problem to solve. You just need to finish one more year. One year, and you have your diploma. Can't you work and go to school at the same time?"
He looked at me for a long moment. Then he exhaled and sat back in his chair.
"I'll think about it."
"Please, Ian." I leaned forward. "I'm not asking you to go to college. If that's not what you want, I will never push you. But get your high school diploma. One more year. That's all I'm asking."
"I know." He looked at me, and for a second he looked like the twelve-year-old who used to fall asleep on the couch waiting for me to come home from my CNA shifts. "But I'm asking you to trust me on this. The same way I'm trusting you with the lot. I know what I'm doing."
The drive back to Barb's was quiet. I walked up the porch steps, went to my room, and sat on the edge of my bed without turning the lights on.
I wanted to be proud of him. I did. He had a job. He was paying for dinner at a restaurant I couldn't afford when I was his age. He was standing taller, dressing better, talking like someone who had figured out where he was going.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that where he was going was somewhere I couldn't follow.
KNOX
How was dinner?
NORA
Not great.
KNOX
***
Do you want me to come over?
NORA
Can you?
He was in the driveway in fifteen minutes.
I climbed into the truck and wrapped my arms around him before he could say anything. He didn't ask. He just held me. One hand on the back of my head, the other steady across my shoulders, and he let me stay there until I was ready to pull back.
"That bad, huh?"
I sat back in my seat. "My brother wants to drop out of high school."
"Did he say why?"
"He wants to work and make money. I've told him a hundred times that money isn't a problem. I can manage. He just needs to finish one more year, and then he can do whatever he wants. But he won't listen."
Knox rubbed his jaw. "Maybe he has a plan?"
"Is that plan to be a high school dropout? Knox, a lot of decent-paying jobs require a diploma. Did you need one to be a firefighter?"
"He could get his GED."
I looked at him. "Not helping, Knox."
"Alright. Sorry."
I leaned back against the headrest and stared at the ceiling of the truck.
"Ever since I became Ian's legal guardian, I made it a goal to make sure he turns out well. That's what our parents would have wanted. That's the only thing I promised myself I wouldn't fail at."
"Nora, you're putting too much of this on yourself. Ian makes choices too."
"He's not eighteen yet. Technically, he's still under my care. I am responsible for him." I pressed my palms against my eyes. "And I don't know what to do, because nothing I say is getting through."
Knox turned to me. "I'm probably the wrong person to talk to about this. I'm a youngest son. But I do know how to cheer you up."
I dropped my hands. "How?"
He turned on the engine. "Come on."
"Where are you taking me?"
"Just trust me."
Knox turned into The Lantern's parking lot and pulled into a spot near the door.
"Knox, I don't really feel like drinking right now."
"We're not drinking."
He hopped out, came around to my side, and opened the door as I was stepping out. He took my hand, locked the truck with the other, and walked me to the entrance.
The Lantern was quiet for a Friday. A few regulars at the bar, someone playing the jukebox in the corner. The crew wasn't there. It was just the bar, the low light, and the two of us.
Knox led me to a booth in the back, then held up a finger. "Give me a minute."
He walked up to the bar and leaned over to talk to Selena. I couldn't hear what he said. She glanced at me, smiled, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Knox came back and slid into the booth beside me.
"Have you not had dinner yet?"
"I have. But I feel like you need an after-dinner snack."