Norah's Ark

by Judy Baer

  Joe, until recently, has never been short-tempered with me. In the last week or two, however, he’s been irritated with everything that came out of my mouth. I’ve noticed Lilly going to the Java Jockey more often and staying longer than usual. She’s probably shared her suspicions, both real and imagined, with him. If that’s the case, he’s getting an earful about the incident with Connor.

  “I’m sorry. I really can only speak for myself. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

  Joe ran his fingers through his hair. “Norah, you know I’m happy to visit with Lou. It’s not that. It’s that you should never have encouraged her to come back here. What if she gets sick in the night? What if she falls? She’s old, Norah, she could die in there!”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “She’s not afraid of dying, Joe. She knows where she’s going and looking forward to it. She is afraid of not having a chance to get well and remain in her own home.”

  He didn’t seem to hear. “Maybe the stroke did something to her mind. Who knows if she’s rational enough to make such a decision?”

  “She made it before the stroke. She asked me if I’d help her in case something like this happened.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t quite right even then.”

  How had I missed this thickheadedness of his until now? “If her doctor isn’t concerned, why should you be?”

  He looked at me and smiled condescendingly. “I guess I shouldn’t say anything, Norah. Part of what I like about you is your compassion. I just never thought you’d try to rescue people like you do animals.”

  That comment stuck with me like a bur. Why wouldn’t he think I’d make every attempt to rescue Auntie Lou or anyone else who needed help? I wasn’t angry about the remark, but felt instead the heavy burden of disappointment.

  Even Lilly, who wasn’t speaking to me unless it was absolutely necessary, deemed the news worthy of comment.

  “Why’d you help her get home, Norah? You should know better. That’s no place for her. She needs to be in a facility for people like her.”

  Like her? I’m not quite sure what people like Auntie Lou are, considering she’s one of a kind.

  “It’s not your business, Norah,” Lilly concluded coolly. “And unlike you, I don’t interfere with other’s lives.”

  And don’t steal other people’s men. I helped Lilly fill in the blank of what she’d left unsaid.

  I miss Lilly terribly. She’s here, but she’s not here, not for me. The only persona she’s used with me lately is ice queen, and it hurts. No more shared lunches, movies or quick chats in front of our stores. No more late-night pizzas and certainly no more drop-ins to talk and make banana splits. I’m beginning to realize that, having put all my time and energy into my business, Lilly is the only friend with whom I’ve really stayed in touch. That leaves Bentley, Hoppy and the birds to hang out with. Such is the pathetic state of my social life.

  Connor, the one person I could count on to stop by, has, fortunately, been out of town. Having him on my doorstep just pours gasoline on the fire with Lilly.

  “Maybe,” I said to Bentley, “I should date Connor. He’s handsome and sweet, and Lilly hates me anyway.”

  Bentley didn’t even acknowledge the statement. Smart dog. He knows a lie when he hears it. As much as I like Connor, he doesn’t make me hear bells.

  Even Nick has been lying low since discovering Bentley.

  I buried my nose in the dog’s fur as I recalled Nick’s reaction to Bentley, the horrified look, the backing away….

  I went to the refrigerator and got out the ice cream. I had three scoops already in a bowl when I realized that I wasn’t even hungry. I thought I’d already hit the bottom of the barrel emotionally but not being hungry for ice cream told me that I was no longer at the bottom of the barrel—I was under it.

  The hole I’m in is definitely getting deeper.

  “That cleaning lady has to go!” Auntie Lou announced the moment I walked into her apartment on Wednesday. She was ensconced in her favorite rocker with a television remote, cell phone and Palm Pilot. With that equipment, Lou could rule the world and never leave her chair.

  The only world she has been trying to rule, unfortunately, is mine.

  “We need her, Lou. I don’t have time to keep your place clean and dust the shop.” I kicked off my sandals so that I wouldn’t tread on the newly washed floors.

  “Then find someone who doesn’t have fingers like sausages! She nearly broke three of my vintage china tea cups. The Staffordshire with the old English peonies on it, the blue asters and the Bavarian Vohenstraub with the yellow roses! The entire shelf shook and I shook right along with it.”

  Auntie Lou is a china expert and the pieces she keeps in her apartment she treats like children. The only thing the cleaning lady could have done to offend her more was to start ripping apart one of Lou’s antique quilts to use for dust rags.

  “I’ll talk to the service. They can send someone else out.”

  “Everyone’s incompetent these days,” Lou muttered into her frilly-collared bathrobe. “That physical therapist who comes, what a snippy little thing she is. Next she’s going to ask me to put my heels on my head and do a dance on my fingertips. Never dealt with someone so unreasonable.”

  “Dr. Andrews says you’re improving remarkably. She must be doing something right.” The smile on my face was beginning to crack.

  “That young pup says I can’t go back to the shop yet,” Lou snorted. “Doesn’t he know that would be the best medicine for me? I tell you, Norah, I’m going to go crazy if I have to sit here like a frog glued to a lily pad much longer.”

  Me, too, Auntie Lou, me, too.

  And the mention of a lily pad only reminded me of Lilly. Though she and Joe stop in occasionally to see Lou, neither has offered to give me a break from the daily grind of checking on her.

  “Don’t be a goose,” I told myself. “Everything is fine.”

  Then I stepped, barefoot, onto a hair ball that Silas had conveniently retched up on the kitchen floor. It was the hair ball that broke the camel’s back.

  I raced out of Auntie Lou’s without another word. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even hold back my tears.

  I ran toward home so fast that I didn’t notice Nick filling his car at Barney’s Gas.

  I flung myself onto my porch swing and finally let go of all the frustration that had been building over the past weeks. Everything I did went wrong. I’d alienated my best friend, distanced myself from the men in my life, even chased Nick off for the sake of a dog. I’d still not talked to Bryce as Julie had requested and Auntie Lou seemed more miserable, rather than less, being at home in her apartment.

  Plus, an entire tank of rescued goldfish had come down with fin rot, Winky and Asia Mynah were driving me crazy with their stupid bird conversations, Hoppy seemed listless and I’d switched brands of dog food for Bentley and given him more gas than Barney had at his station.

  I’d worked myself up into a good sobbing, hiccuping, belching, red-nosed, red-eyed, puffy-faced cry when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  So I did the logical thing. I screamed. Not one of those little “Eeek, you startled me” screams but a full-on, bloody-murder-type scream that can crack glass and break eardrums. The next reasonable thing I did was fall off the swing.

  And that’s the last I remembered until I woke up in Nick’s arms with a small bagful of ice on my head. The patio stone beneath me was hard and cool and I could feel the rise and fall of his broad chest as my cheek lay against it. I looked up at him and hiccuped.

  The face that looked down at me was ruggedly handsome and immensely concerned. His brow was furrowed and, in my addled state, I lifted a finger and tried to scrub out the creases. Then I let my finger drift down his nose, across his cheek and along the line of his jaw. The furrows of concern relaxed but his blue eyes were wide and I noticed little flecks of inky navy in them that I hadn’t noticed before.

  That realization bumped into th
e fogginess in my brain and cleared away a little of the mist. Only then did I think that perhaps I shouldn’t enjoy being held in his arms quite this much. Especially since he hated Bentley.

  Bentley! I started to struggle. How had he gotten into my house to get ice without going by Bentley?

  “Hold still, will you? You need to keep this ice in place or you’re going to raise a huge bump on your head. When I touched you I had no idea that you’d jump so high you’d fall out of the swing. Nervous little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Only when I’m sobbing my heart out and someone grabs me. If I don’t think I’m being attacked, I usually stay in place.” I touched the ice bag on my head. “How’d you get the ice?”

  “Your deck door was open. That’s very careless, you know. Anybody could have walked into the house.”

  “It appears ‘anyone’ did. How’d you get past Bentley?”

  Nick frowned. “I forgot about him. I saw you lying there and he was nowhere to be seen.”

  “Hiding from you, probably. He’s scared of people. You were in more danger of being attacked by the rabbit.”

  “Those two birds screamed at me, if that’s any help. One kept yelling, ‘Gimme a kiss’ and the other one whistled and screeched, ‘Nice buns.’”

  “That would be Winky,” I sighed. “Do you want to help me up? I’d better go in and find my dog. He’s probably cowering under the bed right now.”

  Nick frowned.

  “And don’t you dare say anything about how dangerous he is. You’ve seen for yourself what a threat he is to humanity. Want to come inside?”

  “I’m sorry, Norah, but no matter what you say, I don’t trust that dog.”

  Unexpectedly tears sprang to my eyes again and leaked down my cheeks.

  “Norah?”

  “Couldn’t you at least try? How much could it hurt? Then at least something would be going right.”

  He brushed the wild curls away from my face. “Something? Does that mean that nothing is going right now?”

  “You might say that.” I started to struggle again and this time he helped me to my feet. But instead of allowing me to go inside, he guided me back into the swing and sat down beside me.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  He surprised me so much that my jaw dropped open. “You want to listen?”

  “I think I’d better. You were crying awfully hard when you ran past me.”

  I dug in my pocket for a tissue but came up with only a little lint and a dime. Nick pulled a pristine white handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it over. I mopped up a bit and turned away from my reflection in the glass patio door. Better not to know, I decided, or I’d go looking for a paper bag to put over my head.

  “Everything is messed up and everyone is mad at me. I didn’t do anything to start any of this and now I’m a pariah on Pond Street.”

  “The Pariah on Pond Street. Good movie title.”

  “It’s serious, Nick.”

  Once I started talking, I couldn’t seem to stop—not when I fessed up to Connor’s advances, not even when I told him that Joe is waiting for me to agree to marry him. I even blathered out everything about my discussion with Julie Morris about Bryce and how she’d asked me to talk to the boy.

  “But, what makes me think I can straighten him out? I’ve mucked up my own life. Even Lou is upset with me!”

  “She adores you.”

  “She doesn’t like the people I’ve hired, she’s sick of not being at work and is generally sour as an old pickle.”

  “That, at least, is good news,” Nick commented with a small smile on his face.

  “Good news? Then a city-wide breakout of poison ivy would be great news.”

  “It means she’s feeling better. People who are very ill don’t have the energy to be crabby.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” I admitted, feeling somewhat mollified.

  “See?” He lifted my chin with his finger and forced me to look into those unfathomable eyes. “It’s all in your perspective.”

  “My perspective is warped and with good reason.”

  “Momentarily. You’ll snap back.” He was so confident I almost believed him.

  “I don’t know about that, Nick. Lilly is livid, even though she’s trying to hold her tongue. Joe’s getting fed up….” More tears leaked down my cheeks. “And my fish have fin rot.”

  “Better them than your friends,” he suggested and I felt a bubble of laughter rise within me.

  “Julie Morris is depending on me.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve got too many people depending on you rather than on themselves. Let me do a little checking on this Bryce Morris thing. I turned it all over to juvenile so I don’t know what they’ve come up with. Wait a day or so before you try to visit with him.”

  “Gladly.” I sighed. “I wish I could find something to take my mind off this for a few minutes.”

  “How about this?” And before I realized what he was doing, Nick took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  When we broke apart I was blinking rapidly. “Well, that worked. For a minute there, I couldn’t remember any of my troubles or even my own name.”

  “Doctor Nick, that’s me,” he said softly. “Maybe you need another treatment….”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When I faced Joe the next morning, I felt guilty, as if I’d been disloyal. Though I’ve made him no promises, I do love him. I’m just not sure it has matured into the marrying kind of love—yet. Actually I’m not sure of anything other than God knows what’s going on and He’ll tell me what I need to know. Besides, Nick had sought me out. I wasn’t wantonly attempting to attract men like Nick and Connor. They just appeared. Is that my fault? Can I be blamed that I fell on my head and allowed Nick to kiss me?

  “What’s up?” Joe shoved a caramel latte across the counter to me. “You look worn out.”

  I resisted saying, “You should have seen me yesterday.” After Nick had gone, I had floated into my bathroom feeling quite lovely. Then I’d glimpsed myself in the mirror. Red, blotchy, nose raw from blowing, eyes puffy and bloodshot, lips chapped, hair full of static electricity…no, today I looked good. Yesterday I could have scared the green off grass.

  And Nick had still kissed me. Wonder of wonders.

  “I hate to bother you, but I need a little help with something.” I mustered up my courage, knowing how Joe felt about my bringing home Lou in the first place. “I want to use the freight elevator at Auntie Lou’s Antiques and I don’t want to do it alone the first time. Barney checked it out but I’m not sure what I’d do if I got myself stuck between floors.”

  “Norah, you know what I said. This is too much for you.”

  “Come and help me just this one time, won’t you?”

  Much to my relief, he came around the counter and took my hand. “What am I going to do with you? You’re an incorrigible knightess-in-shining-armor, rescuing everything and everyone you come across.”

  “I’ve never heard of a ‘knightess’ before.” I snuggled closer to him and he tucked me in the curve of his arm.

  “Neither had I until I met you.”

  Twenty-five sweaty minutes later, Joe and I were sitting on the floor of the freight elevator staring helplessly at one another.

  “You’re never going to be able to take this elevator up and down alone. It’s not easy to work the ropes and pulleys. You need more strength than you have.” Joe rolled his eyes. “I can imagine you and Lou stranded between floors.”

  “I’ll bring food for the trip. And a cell phone.”

  “Seriously, this isn’t a one-person job and I can’t promise I’ll be around all the time to help you.”

  “I’m not asking you that. Don’t worry about it. And thanks for oiling those thingamabobs and whatsits.”

  “You’re going to have to give this up.”

  “Says who?” The little streak of Irish in my background popped up in the form of good old temper.
>
  “Okay, then. Find out for yourself. I just don’t want you to kill yourself in the process. Auntie Lou needs to be in a nursing home, not here.”

  “Dr. Andrews says it’s fine,” I said stubbornly.

  “Then have him come and work this elevator.” Joe got to his feet and held out a hand to me. “Coming?”

  “No. I plan to sit here a while and pout.”

  “Suit yourself. I’ve got to get back to work.” He walked through the open elevator door to the first floor of Auntie Lou’s shop. When he turned around, his eyes were anxious and his expression sad. “You’ve been different the last few weeks. I miss the old Norah.” Then he walked away.

  “The old Norah?” I felt like pulling my hair out of my head. I was exactly the same Norah I’d always been. It was everyone else who’d gone crazy.

  It felt good to sit in the old elevator. The silence was deafening and no one would think to look for me here. As I quieted myself, I began to pray.

  Lord, here we are again. Me, looking for answers and You, having them. What am I supposed to do? I thought You wanted me to bring Lou home but now…. A wave of tiredness overtook me and impulsively I curled up on the wooden floor and closed my eyes. I’d rest just a minute. Then I’d figure out how to move Auntie Lou around.

  How had I gotten inside the television set?

  I peered out from behind the screen. Bryce Morris was there, wielding a joystick and making me leap and run with a barely perceptible move of his hand. I was dodging to the right and to the left, jumping over obstacles and crawling through caves. What on earth…

  I awoke with a yelp. I’d fallen asleep and dreamed I was inside a video game being played by Bryce. Sucking my finger, the one I’d just jammed a sliver into, I got to my feet wondering what kind of answer to prayer that was?

  The Bed and Biscuit is slowest on weekdays. Other than a dog named Daisy who is here so often that she thinks she owns the place and a kitten determined to shred everything in sight including my skin, the B and B was empty. As I sanitized kennels and washed bedding in the old washer I keep in the back for that purpose, I couldn’t get my mind off that dream. What did video games have to do with anything? What even made me think of them?