The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,77
get the courage and you’ll have what? Two weeks? Maybe three. So, yes. I feel confident.”
“Great. You’ve made your point. What time do you leave tomorrow?”
Alima smiled. “I’ve scheduled a car to pick me up at 8:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be there at 8:01.”
“I’ll make sure not to wear her out too much tonight.” She winked at me and walked to the car.
Fucking bitch.
nineteen
sophie
When we returned from Comanche Springs, everyone was on the back patio, eating. I made sure Alima, Ivey and Todd were fed, and was puttering around in the kitchen, taking my time serving myself, hoping Nora would take the hint and come inside alone. She did. She stood next to me and made herself a fajita. We didn’t speak for a bit.
“How’s your mom?”
“Her car was in the garage. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Where did y’all go?”
“Comanche Springs.”
“What did Alima say to you?”
“She wants what’s best for you.” I scooped guacamole on my plate and Nora’s and added the rest of the corn chips. I grabbed a fresh bag of chips from the back counter and replenished the bowl. “We disagree on who that is.”
Nora placed her hand over mine, and I finally looked at her. “She says she’s leaving tomorrow morning,” I said.
“Is she?”
“Are you disappointed?”
She ran her thumb over the back of my hand. “No.”
“Can I come by tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” Her voice was quiet but full of emotion.
“Promise me you won’t sleep with her tonight.”
Her hazel eyes met mine. “I didn’t intend to.”
The men came inside with empty plates. Nora released my hand and went outside to join the others.
The rest of the party was uneventful. We somehow managed to not talk about politics, though there were more than a few pointed questions for Alima about Islam (she’s not devout) and where she was from (Virginia). She handled it all with seemingly good humor, but I caught her exchanging disbelieving expressions with Nora. When she and Nora were leaving, I pulled her a little aside and apologized for the other guests.
“Thank you for inviting me. It was everything I expected, and more.”
She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but I let it pass. I didn’t want to do or say anything that would keep her in town.
For all my talk of taking happiness while I could have it, I wasn’t sure if I could sleep with Nora, and then wave at her as she drove out of town. But, I didn’t like the alternative either: coming out to Lynchfield meant throwing my life into turmoil. It meant an ugly scene with Charlie and Logan. It meant stares in the produce section at Brookshire Brothers. It meant arrested conversations when I entered a room. It meant being churched or, even worse, included on every prayer list in town. Did I love Nora enough to endure that? I had no idea.
So, I lay awake all night, listening to Charlie’s drunken snores, my mind spiraling with a million scenarios, counting down the minutes until I could go to Nora, hoping Nora kept her promise, trying not to think of how Alima and Nora were saying goodbye if she didn’t.
I rose as soon as the clock ticked over to 6:00 a.m. I showered and dressed as if I were going to stand up in the AA meeting and tell my story, the smell of stale coffee in the air, a cardboard box of cheap donuts on the table, the runny glaze where the donuts met their neighbors no deterrent from being eaten.
Charlie didn’t move when I left the bedroom. I thought of peeking in on Logan, of watching her sleep, making sure she was still breathing, a habit I’d gotten into when she was a baby and did to this day. I hadn’t talked to her since my blowup the night before, and I knew the sight of my daughter might erode my resolve or sidetrack me into a conversation I wasn’t ready to have. Yet.
I stopped at Giesmann’s Bakery downtown for a cup of coffee and a box of kolaches and settled down at one of the patio tables with Saturday edition of the Austin American-Statesman. I should have driven to Dripping Springs for my meeting. Get a little strength from the group before stepping off the emotional ledge I was inching toward. But, I didn’t want to go and have to say, “I’m Sophie and I’m an alcoholic. It’s been seven days since my last drink.” The need for Nora hadn’t abated in the night. Waiting would be torture. And,