Chapter Two Nora #2
Ben had left for his solo trip to South America three weeks ago, to stay at a wellness retreat in Chile, and she’d let it stop there in her mind.
He was going to sort himself out. He’d been working for years—doing school, establishing his practice—and he needed time to himself. It had seemed reasonable.
She suddenly realized all the practicalities she hadn’t considered.
Like if he decided he didn’t want to come home.
Where would that leave her?
She wouldn’t be able to afford their mortgage, and if he decided to not pay it . . .
The anger she felt at herself right then was swift and judgmental.
She’d been like a frog, boiled slowly in the promise of Ben, and she’d lost her cynicism.
She’d done the right things.
She’d gone to school. She had a degree; she’d majored in English and minored in art.
She could teach at a school if she wanted to, but she’d never done that.
They’d lived modestly, and then Ben had finished dental school and graduated without loans, thanks to his parents.
They’d almost immediately started making a decent income, and Nora, who’d always had to be independent and protect herself fiercely, had never had to worry about anything since being with him.
Somehow along the way she’d convinced herself she was taken care of.
She had a career, sure.
But that career wasn’t a steady paycheck. Her unstable childhood should have served as a warning. She should have known better than this all along. Hadn’t her own mother taught her anything?
“There’s no way I’ll be able to keep the house,” Soraya said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I . . .”
“We’ll think of something,” Nora said.
Her irritation with Soraya suddenly felt petty.
Daisy and Soraya had been totally screwed over by the men who were supposed to care about them more than anything else.
As for Nora, she wasn’t as secure as she’d thought.
On that they were united, even if there were a lot of other things that divided them.
“Thank you.” Soraya finished the rest of her wine. She had barely taken a bite of her salad. “I don’t have an appetite right now.”
“Can’t relate,” Nora said, polishing off the last of her fries.
“I just want to eat my feelings,” Daisy said.
“I can’t,” Soraya said. “My feelings sit in my stomach like a giant ball of lead. I was a good wife.”
They were all quiet for a moment. Because the truth was, they had all been good wives. Nora was sure of that.
She’d been a good wife to Ben. Or maybe she hadn’t been.
Maybe she’d been a human ice sculpture lying in bed next to him. That was how he made it sound. That was why he’d said he had to reevaluate.
“We’re going to be okay,” Nora said, her tone way more determined than she felt.
“We are?” Soraya asked.
“Yes,” Nora said. “We’re going to be okay. We’re resourceful women. We’re going to find everything we need to navigate whatever is coming.”
“I’m going to need a job,” Daisy said. “One that’s flexible, because of my kids.”
“I’ll need a job other than my baking. I’m starting to sell loaves of sourdough at different stores, but I’m one person, and there’s no way I can support myself on bread alone.”
“Jesus said that,” Nora pointed out.
“That’s not quite what Jesus said.” Soraya took a breath. “But someone will have to take a thirty-five-year-old woman with no job experience.”
“You have skills,” Nora said.
“You never think it will be you.” Soraya scrunched her eyes up, like she was trying to hold her tears back.
“This happened to one of my mom’s friends, and everyone ostracized her.
She couldn’t get work because no one wanted to hire a woman with no education and no experience, and I judged her like everyone else. Now I am her.”
“We’ll be okay.” Daisy reached across the table and put her hand over Soraya’s.
Nora settled her hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “We will.”
Soraya looked down. “Okay. We will.”
Goose bumps rose on Nora’s arms, a chill coming through the front door of the restaurant as it opened.
“Ready?” she asked, suddenly feeling restless.
The other two nodded, and Nora signaled to their waitress. They split the check three ways, then walked downstairs and back out onto the street.
“I’m parked up that way,” Soraya said.
Nora jerked her chin the same direction. “I’m that way too.”
They began to walk toward the park, when Nora noticed a store she hadn’t seen before. “What’s that?”
A building wedged between the yarn store and a brewery had its lights on, when it had been dim and empty for months.
There were really only two kinds of businesses in town. The kind that came and went in less than a year, run by people who had fantasies about cute, cozy stores but were unable to handle the reality of the harsh churn of doing business in a town where crowds ebbed and flowed with the seasons.
Or businesses that had been there for thirty years or more. Fixtures that never seemed to go away. This storefront was one that often rotated, and it had gotten to the point where she didn’t really notice when it changed hands. She often didn’t bother going inside. Why get attached?
But this one stopped her.
There were brooms in the windows and hanging herbs. A large wooden sign read Lady’s Mantle Apothecary.
“Oh, you didn’t know about this?” Soraya asked. “It’s occultic.”
“What?” Nora asked.
“It’s . . . it’s satanic,” Soraya whispered, like she was concerned people would think she was being rude saying the store was satanic, though saying it anyway.
“Satan? Sounds fun.” Nora grinned.
Soraya gave her a look that took Nora right back to high school.
“Why do you know about the store?” Daisy asked Soraya.
“Oh, Pastor John mentioned it in church last week. When he found out it was opening, he wanted to make sure everyone in the church knew so they could guard their . . .” She seemed to realize she was saying too much to an audience who hadn’t even wanted to hear half of it. “Whatever.”
That was some growth for Soraya, Nora had to admit.
“I want to check it out. So if you want to stay away from the occult, you can keep going, I guess,” Nora said.
“I want to see it.” Daisy was already walking toward the front door.
“I can’t.” Soraya took a step back.
“You can’t go into the store?” Nora asked, incredulous.
“No. We’re supposed to stay away from even the appearance of evil.”
“I wonder what category dick pics in the church bathroom fall into. Pictures that you were supposed to be fine with, I might add,” Nora said.
Soraya’s face turned pink. “Okay, I can stop in for a second.”
Nora smirked at Daisy, who gave her a hard look. This interaction was oddly cheering, because it reminded her of a time when she didn’t feel so desperately jaded and out of hope.
She pushed the door open, and a bell jingled above the door.
The room was dim and cool, soothing music playing over the speakers.
A table sat in the center of the room with a sign in the middle that proclaimed tarot readings were available.
There was a shelf next to that with boxes of tarot cards on display.
Beyond that was a large counter, and behind it were shelves of dried herbs and jars of tea.
Across from that were bookcases filled with books about the metaphysical and the divine feminine. Then there were bins of crystals with cards attached to the front that spoke to the purpose of each one.
For the first time in weeks, Nora felt like she could take a full breath. She walked over to the counter and admired the large jar filled with dried yellow flowers. A small handwritten card was placed just in front of it.
Lady’s Mantle: the patron herb of alchemy, often used in love spells.
“There’s not even anyone here,” Soraya said, still standing at the door. “Let’s go.”
“No.” Nora touched the lady’s mantle card and then moved farther into the shop. “I want to look at some of the stuff.”
She’d always been interested in the idea of magic—what little girl with no control or power in her life wasn’t?
—and of course her gothic aesthetic had frequently led her into witchy shops, where she liked looking at crystals and bundles of herbs, but that was all it was.
A vague interest. Whenever she picked up a deck of tarot cards and considered buying them, her more practical self told her it was nonsense, and she ended up putting them back.
Everything felt like it was off kilter, which made her feel like maybe this time she would buy a deck of cards. Or some crystals. It couldn’t hurt anything.
There was a shuffling sound, a fabric curtain hung over a doorway opened, and a very small woman with long white hair came out and stepped behind the counter. “Good afternoon,” she said. “Welcome in.”
Nora waved awkwardly. “Hi, thank you.”
Daisy walked deeper into the room. “This is great.”
“Is there anything that you’re looking for in particular?” the woman asked.
“Just looking,” Nora said. “We were walking by and saw the store and thought we should check it out.”
“I’m so glad.” The woman smiled, the skin by her eyes crinkling.
“What’s . . . an apothecary?” Daisy asked.
“I’m not sure what all the other ones are,” the woman said, “but this one has medicinal herbs, teas, spells. I want to do tea parties and tarot readings, tea leaf readings, though I won’t have my full menu of services ready until I get some employees.
I need a bookkeeper and a baker, and I really need someone to run the front counter. ”
The same goose bumps that had risen on Nora’s arms earlier rose again now.
We’ll be okay.
“A bookkeeper?” Daisy asked.
“Yes,” the woman said. “I can’t do that for myself. I’m not good with numbers.”
“What . . . kind of baking?” That question came from Soraya, who was almost pressed against the door, like she was afraid Satan himself was going to pop out from behind one of the shelves.
“I’m open. When I find the right baker, I’ll defer to her skill.”
Nora moved over to the tarot cards and touched one of the boxes.
“Do you read tarot?” the woman asked.