Chapter 38
Jack did not miraculously appear after Nora’s appearance on KXAN’s morning show, but every troll in Central Texas did. The comments on the “Lost and Found in the ATX”ranged from You’re a fucking moron to Good luckand were sprinkled withmore long posts from random people about the ones who’d gotten away from themselves.
Nora fretted that she hadn’t described him accurately. Her description of him—tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed—fit a significant number of men in Austin. In the world, for that matter. But surely he’d mentioned his experience to someone, and that someone would recall the conversation.
She was racking her brain for any other clues when James called. “Everyoneis talking about you,” he said breathlessly.
“Because of the morning show?”
“Exactly. Kevin’s theory is that you dohave brain damage.”
Nora realized she didn’t care what they thought. Progress!
“Anyway, some guy named Manuel Cervantes has been calling for you.”
“Who’s that?”
“Someone who needs to talk to you. He said he had an opportunity he wanted to discuss with you.”
She gasped. “A job?”
“Or he knows something about Jack?”
Her breath quickened with excitement. “Did he leave a number?”
“Yep. Texting it to you now. Speaking of jobs... any luck?”
“Not really. I’m doing a legal thing pro bono, and I’m going to talk to a man who I am hoping will be willing to repair Lacey’s kitchen that I burned down in exchange for some contract work.”
“Wait... you burneddown Lacey’s kitchen?”
“Not all the way to the studs,” Nora said, a little defensively. “It’s fixable.” She hoped.
“Oh my God,” James muttered disbelievingly.
She filled James in on the kitchen fiasco, then promised she would let him know what Manuel Cervantes wanted. James asked if she needed anything from him. She didn’t—November and Sons was a Death Star spinning out of her little planet’s orbit, off to menace some other solar system.
She called Manuel Cervantes on her way to the garden, hardly able to contain her eagerness. Her “hello” burst out of her like a rocket.
“Hey, Nora, thanks for calling me back. I saw your spot on the morning news. Fascinating story you’ve got there.”
Nora’s heart pounded with anticipation. “Do you know him?”
“Oh... no, sorry.”
Her eagerness exploded into nothing, and she sank against the driver’s seat. “Oh.”
“I’m a producer, and I would love to talk to you about capturing your experience on film. Your story is so compelling. Like, everyone understands the concept of the one who got away, but the near-death experience adds the extra pizzazz. The concept would need some tweaks, of course,” he said. “You know, a little zhuzhing it up for a larger viewing audience. But I think this would be perfect for HBO. I’d like to offer you an option for development.”
Manuel began to describe just how many tweaks her story would need, which, as it turned out, was a lot. Her story of drowning and coming back to life apparently wasn’t dramatic enough, and her recovery and search for the man she’d let get away wasn’t challenging enough. But with a few changes, he told her, she would be an inspiration to millions.
Hyperbole, much? She had no desire to be an inspiration to millions. Right now it was all she could do to inspire herself on a daily basis. “I need to think about it,” she said.
“Sure. How about in a few days we get some coffee and talk it through? Give me a time and place, and I’ll be there.”
She agreed and promised to text him.
Something felt not quite right to her about his proposal—making her NDE about a woman searching for the one who got away felt wrong. Her story was so much more than that. It was about her figuring out who she was and who she wasn’t. It was about the sea of emotions and beliefs in which she’d been treading water for so long that it took her dying to swim out of that sea. It was about discovering herself every day, including all the reasons she never called Jack, or why she didn’t take the private cooking lesson, or why she was ever on that beach to begin with. It was about fighting off demons every step of the way.
It was not about the one who got away. It was about how she’d almost gotten away from herself.
***
At the garden, Nora found her bell peppers were shriveling. They were not going to get bigger, quite obviously. But her calla lilies were starting to come up, strong and tall, pointing the way for her. She wanted to hug them.
She cleaned out the dead from the cucumber vines, planted the dahlia tubers Nick had given her, and left two tubers and a note for Plot Seven.
I have never grown dahlias, have you? My success here has not been great, so I intend to join a garden club. Have a great week. #9
She was late getting home to change and then late to her painting class. When she’d texted Gus this afternoon to tell him when she’d pick him up, he’d responded, I’ll meet you there.
Something about that response didn’t feel right, but Nora had pushed the thought down. And then Gus didn’t show. She wasn’t surprised, but she was disappointed. She had genuinely believed that he would come.
The assignment that evening was to paint a sky that reflected their moods. The mood, the instructor said, could be found in their subconscious minds if they looked hard enough. Nora searched her brain for her mood. What wasit? Buoyant. Hopeful. A little scared of her path. In the end, she’d painted a bright light spilling over green, and in the corner, a hint of a shadow, as if someone was standing behind a veil. But this wasn’t her interpretation of the Grandpa shadows. This shadow was Jack. Just there, just beyond her reach. Losing him was perhaps the item on her reverse bucket list that she regretted the most.
When class was over, Nora packed up her canvas and headed to Gus’s apartment. She was afraid of what she might find, but unlike the ghost of Nora, she would not avoid the chaos and muck. She knocked, unrelenting, until he opened the door. “Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse and groggy.
“I’m here,” she said simply. I’m here for you. I’m here, and I won’t leave you again.
“Oh, shoot. Tonight was...” He didn’t bother to finish. “I’m sorry.”
“We painted moody skies. Anyway, I came over because I think you need me, and I think we need to talk about the place I found.”
Gus sagged against the doorframe. “Nora... I don’t have any money.”
“I know. But I truly believe we can make this happen if you want it to. It won’t be easy, and I don’t know where we’ll get the money, but we can figure it out, right? But, Gus... you have to want it.”
A single tear slipped out of his eye and traced a path over his florid cheek into a week’s worth of beard. “I’m scared.”
She reached for his hand. “Me too.”
“Really?”
“Oh my God, Gus—every day. Can we at least talk about it?”
He let her in.
***
Her week continued like that, one thing after the other. She reached out to the treatment facility in Smithville. They said they might have a bed opening. She prepared paperwork for a bankruptcy for Catherine to mull over in the event it came to that. She called Brad Sachs’s office to inquire if there was any room to negotiate. The woman she spoke to said she would speak to Mr.Sachs and get back to her. Nora wasn’t holding her breath. She bought some canvases and paints with her dwindling funds, paid as much of her credit card bill as she could, and downloaded some Bob Ross videos. She went to see Nick, and they examined her bell pepper closely. “Not enough sun, then,” he decreed.
She asked about Venus flytraps. He said he would see if he could find some, but they were tough to locate and transport.
She had coffee with Manuel Cervantes and learned his vision for the limited series he wanted to create. She didn’t care for his vision, and she didn’t get the sense he had much interest in her take. But she needed to be practical—he was offering a decent amount of money for the rights. Sometimes deals had to be made. She agreed to think about his offer and get back to him.
She met Tanya’s brother, Josiah, and struck a tentative deal with him, based on what Lacey had to say about it. She arranged for Josiah and Lacey to meet. Lacey was resistant at first, commanded Nora to stop blowing up her phone... until Nora said she’d figured out how to pay for the repairs. Lacey agreed to meet Josiah then, but she made it clear Nora was not invited, as she was still fuming. Baby steps.
Nora stopped taking her mother’s video calls. Her mother began to text instead. She didn’t respond to those either.
She painted. She wore old jeans and T-shirts and moccasins to the store to run errands. She cooked the paella they made in cooking class and took some to Lacey’s house and left it in her fridge with instructions for heating it up and a warning—she’d overdone the cayenne pepper. She left her some cupcakes she’d made too.
She went to the theater twice to review finances with Catherine and Walter. She told Walter she had someone looking for Venus flytraps. He sighed impatiently.
And she kept posting under “Lost and Found in the ATX.”Anyone see him?
No one had.