The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,105
been asked by at least a half dozen people how long Nora was staying and was there any chance she might stay permanently?
I told myself during the five-minute drive out of town that the rumors had been wrong, that Nora had left the day before as planned, that I wouldn’t see her and be confronted with the decision I made about staying with Charlie for the time being. So, it was with mixed feelings when I saw a small figure on a tractor in the far corner of the pasture. I parked in the front yard between an overflowing Dumpster and Ray’s truck. I walked around behind the house, leaned my arms against the top rail of the pasture fence and waited for the ancient John Deere to make its painfully slow progress to me.
Nora stopped the tractor next to the fence, pushed and pulled various levers until the tractor died, leaving a stony silence behind. After a few seconds, the grasshoppers and crickets started up their summertime chorus.
“That’s an interesting look.” Nora wore tan coveralls at least two sizes too big for her, running shoes, Oakley sunglasses and a sweat-stained and dirty straw cowboy hat.
Nora jumped down from the tractor. “I didn’t bring any work clothes. I borrowed this from Dormer and found the hat in the barn. The glasses and shoes are mine. Goddamn, it’s hot.”
She pulled her arms out of the coveralls, letting the top part hang down from her waist. The white tank top she wore was soaked through with sweat and left nothing to the imagination. Little bits of grass and dust stuck to her sweaty face, and the smell of motor oil was overpowering.
“Why did you stay?”
“The estate sale was a flop.”
“I heard.”
Neither of us seemed to know what to say, where to start, so Nora went with good manners.
“Want some iced tea?”
Inside the house, the AC was cranked down low, chilling the sweat that had popped out on my body in the ten minutes I’d been outside. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to be out in this heat?”
Nora handed me a glass of tea in a red Solo cup. Tiny goose bumps covered her arm. “Yes, Mom. I’m fine.”
I grimaced at the unsweetened tea.
“Don’t like it?” Nora said.
“I drink sweet.”
“It’s not good for you.”
“I’m not giving up every vice.”
“I would offer you some sugar, but I’m pretty sure someone bought the sugar bowl and the hardened sugar inside. The kitchen was the one room the junkers cleaned out.”
I glanced in the empty den. “It looks pretty cleaned out to me.”
“I went scorched earth on the house yesterday. If I could carry it, it ended up in the Dumpster. They’re bringing me an empty one tomorrow.”
“Eager to get out of town?” Back to Alima.
“Did you know Emmadean has Parkinson’s?”
“We’re going to avoid it? Okay. Yes, I’ve known for months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Nora continued. “Let me guess: Emmadean said not to.”
I nodded. “I tried to talk Emmadean into telling you, but she’s pretty stubborn. How did you find out?”
“Jeremy told me.”
“Was Emmadean mad?”
Nora drank her tea and shifted on her feet. “I haven’t talked to her about it yet.”
“You’re avoiding that conversation, too.”
“I’m not.” She stared into her cup. “I don’t know.”
“If you talk to Emmadean, you’re afraid you’ll need to stay, and you don’t want to.”
She didn’t disagree or look at me. We stood as far apart in the kitchen as was possible. Nora leaned against the sink, and I stood near the door to the den, the kitchen table a substantial barrier between us.
“I told Logan.”
Nora’s head jerked up. Her mouth parted slightly, but still, she didn’t speak.
“I told her everything.”
Nora’s eyes widened, lifting her eyebrows almost to the brim of her ridiculous hat.
“You didn’t think I’d do it, did you?”
“No. How’d she take it?”
“Not as good as I hoped, but much better than Charlie. He caught me trying to sneak out to come see you Saturday night.”
“You told Charlie?”
“Yep. Thanks for warning me that he came to see you.”
“From your texts, I assumed he believed me and didn’t say anything.”
“Oh, he said something all right.”
“What happened?”
“He assumed it was an experiment. Or at least, that’s what he wanted to believe. I wouldn’t let him.”
“It would have been easier to.”
“I’m tired of lying. I’m tired of not being myself. More than that, I’m tired of fighting with you every time we see each other. I don’t want to think about tomorrow,