Nora's Guy Next Door

by Jo McNally

  Cathy put her hand on Nora’s shoulder.

  “I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. If I worry, she thinks I’m being negative. If I make a suggestion, I’m too controlling. If I look at her wrong, she thinks I’m disappointed in her. She thinks I’m crazy for coming here and trying to run a coffee shop. And maybe I am. I just can’t figure out how to fix things.” Nora looked at Cathy and was surprised to see tears glistening in her eyes. “Cathy, what’s wrong?”

  “You’re what’s wrong, Nora.” Cathy pulled her to the sofa by the window to sit. “Becky’s here. She offered to work for you. She just asked you if you were okay. She cares. You two need to stop tiptoeing around each other and talk. Before it’s too late.” Cathy looked out the window at the gray sky, threatening more raw March weather.

  “Too late? What do you mean?”

  Cathy sighed. She was wearing a long denim skirt with a bright sweater, giving in to Nora’s demands that her clothing be clean and neat. Her long silver hair was pulled back into a braid, and silver hoops hung from her ears. A lone tear escaped from the corner of her eye.

  “You talk about losing your daughter, Nora, but you have no idea what that really means. I do.”

  Cathy hadn’t said anything about her family since the surprising revelation that she’d sold the shop to help a granddaughter she’d only recently learned she had. And Nora hadn’t wanted to push. Nora never wanted to push, never wanted to be inappropriate or rude. She didn’t press Asher further than he wanted to go when it came to talking about his son. She didn’t press Becky for fear of losing her. She hadn’t pressed Cathy because she figured the woman’s past wasn’t her concern. Maybe it was time to stop being so damned careful all the time.

  “Tell me about your daughter, Cathy.”

  Cathy wiped away the tear and smiled. “Paisley was a beautiful kid.”

  “Paisley? That was her name?”

  “Yes. She hated it, but it was the only piece of her daddy I could give her.” Cathy smiled at Nora’s confusion. “I was a bit of a wild child, and I had the same lousy taste in men that my mama had. But her men were worse.” Cathy’s eyes dulled. “Some of Mama’s men were much worse.”

  Becky was whistling as she worked in the kitchen. She’d picked that habit up from Michael, who was constantly whistling to himself.

  Cathy continued. “I met Paisley’s daddy at a hotel bar in Chicago. He was a businessman, and he always wore a suit and tie—always a paisley tie. I thought I’d finally found The One, but when he heard I was pregnant, he dropped me like a hot rock. Turns out he already had a wife and kid, and I was just his walk on the wild side. He gave me money to get rid of the pregnancy, but I used it to pay for a bus ticket to San Francisco. That’s where Paisley was born.”

  Nora’s eyes were suddenly moist, and she blinked rapidly. “I think it’s a lovely name. Where is she now?”

  “She died over ten years ago. I didn’t even know until last summer.”

  “Oh, Cathy, I’m so sorry.”

  Cathy shrugged. “She hated being dragged around the country while I chased after bad men and crazy dreams. So she buried herself in her schoolwork to escape the chaos I thrived in, and she got herself a scholarship. The morning after she turned eighteen, she was gone. Got a job, rented a room, went to school and made a life for herself that didn’t include me. And I let her go, because I figured she was better off without me.”

  “When did you see her last?”

  “I showed up for her college graduation. It took every penny I had to get there. She was standing with her smart friends and their fancy parents. She saw me in my wrinkled clothes from the bus ride and my crazy hair—I think it was pink then. I’d had a little liquid courage before I got there, and she knew it. She turned her back to me like I was a stranger, and I was so humiliated that I just left.” Cathy looked around the café, so different now than when she’d owned it. “A few years later I came back here to take care of my mom when she got sick. I figured if Paisley eventually wanted to see me, she’d be able to find me here, and she’d be proud because I finally stayed in one place, I was a business owner and I didn’t have a stupid man in my life. But she never came.”

  “And you didn’t reach out to her?”

  Cathy shook her head sadly.

  “I sent a few letters and postcards at first, but after a while they started getting returned. I found out last year she was gone.” Cathy took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and glanced toward the back of the shop before meeting Nora’s gaze.

  “Her in-laws called me. Turns out Paisley married their son twenty-some years ago, and they’d died together in a car accident. But they had a little girl that the grandparents had raised. They didn’t know Paisley had any family until they found a postcard from me tucked into a poetry book she had. She’d never mentioned me.” Cathy shrugged. “They didn’t want me to upset the girl by suddenly showing up in her life, and I agreed. She wants to be a veterinarian. I know that’s expensive, so I decided to help without her knowin’ about it.”

  “That’s why you sold the shop—to pay for her college?”

  “I had to do something, you know? Even if her mama didn’t want her to know me.”

  “But Paisley held on to that postcard from you. That means something, right?”

  “Maybe. But I’ll never know, will I? It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for the two of you.” Nora followed Cathy’s gaze to see Becky standing by the counter. She didn’t know how long she’d been listening, but, judging from the dampness on her cheeks, she’d heard enough. A mother and daughter torn apart forever because of fear and pride.

  Here she’d been worrying about how much Asher needed family, when her own daughter was standing right there in front of her, needing family, too. She smiled at Becky, doing her best to hide her fear.

  “Why don’t you and Michael come over for dinner tonight?”

  The shock on Becky’s face gave Nora a stab of guilt. She should have done this sooner.

  “With you? And Michael, too?”

  “Yes. Tonight. With Michael. After all, the two of you are expecting my grandson, and it’s time we all got better acquainted, don’t you think?”

  Becky grinned. “Mom, are you pulling a smile and a plan on me?”

  “Maybe.” Nora walked to Becky and took her hands. “Look, I know things have been hard between us. I’m sorry we argued at Bree’s wedding. I’m sorry you felt I was too negative or controlling. I’m just sorry, period.” She gestured down to Becky’s round stomach. “This...this has been a bit of a shock for your old mom, and I haven’t handled it as well as I should have. But I want you to be happy, sweetheart. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  When she looked up, Becky was crying harder, and Cathy was sniffling behind her. Nora opened her arms and Becky stepped into the hug.

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry, too! I don’t know how to have a baby or be a wife, and I don’t want to screw this up...”

  Much of the relentless weight that had been pressing down on Nora since Thanksgiving vanished as she held her daughter tight and consoled her. They were going to be okay.

  A few hours later she was just checking off the last thing on her dinner list when Michael and Becky arrived at the apartment. Becky’s favorite shrimp toast appetizers? Check. Becky’s favorite Caesar salad with homemade dressing, including anchovies? Check. Becky’s favorite baked ziti casserole? Check. And, last, Becky’s favorite dessert, the pineapple upside-down cake, was fresh out of the oven. Check.

  Nora usually ate at the kitchen counter, so this was the first time the dining table had been set since she moved in, and it glowed in the light of a dozen different pillar candles arranged on a silver tray in the center. Too much? Maybe. But this was step one in Nora’s plan to create a complete and functioning family, and everything had to
be perfect.

  Becky started laughing as soon as she walked in. She’d been up to the apartment a few times since Nora moved in, but never for more than a few minutes.

  “OMG, is that your baked ziti?” Becky rushed to the kitchen. “And my favorite cake, too? Oh, Michael, be prepared to have your mind blown.”

  The young man in question stood uncomfortably in the doorway. His eyes warmed when Becky spoke his name, but when he looked at Nora, she could see the shutters coming down. His own father had turned him away, and Nora and Becky had been arguing so much. The guy had every reason to be distrustful.

  “Come inside, Michael! Take off your jacket and try one of those shrimp things on the counter while I finish putting the salad together.”

  Her voice was too loud and overly cheerful, and Becky and Michael were exchanging uneasy glances in the kitchen. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off her nerves. “Okay, let’s get this part over with. Do I wish my daughter hadn’t gotten pregnant at eighteen? Of course! But it’s happened. And I couldn’t possibly want anything to happen to that precious baby you’re carrying. I love him already. With a little help, you and Michael are going to be great parents. This child will know nothing but love from all of us.” Nora saw the sadness that shadowed Michael’s eyes. He looked like a wounded animal. She remembered having the same impression of Asher after he and Michael argued back in November—that Asher looked like a cornered, frightened animal. Both men had known too much pain. It was time to start fixing that.

  “Michael, you and I don’t know each other that well yet, but you’ll learn when I put my mind to making something happen, it generally happens.” Becky coughed out a laugh behind her. “So I’m telling you right now that when I say your son will be loved by all of us, I mean by your father, too.”

  Michael’s eyes went wide in surprise, then he shook his head sadly. “I don’t think so, Nora.”

  “Your dad is a good man, Michael. I know he’s still grieving Dylan’s loss, but together we can help Asher deal with becoming a grandpa.”

  Michael’s face paled.

  “There’s no way my father told you about Dylan.” Michael’s voice was hard. Her heart broke for the wounded young man in front of her.

  “Mom, why are you calling him Asher like that? Like you’re friends or something.”

  “Let’s eat while dinner’s hot.”

  They sat obediently, but their suspicious expressions made Nora laugh, which didn’t seem to help their moods any.

  “Guys, Asher and I are neighbors. He helped me with a spider problem. I helped him when he was sick.” She loaded their plates and brought them to the table. “He didn’t intend to tell me about Dylan, and he certainly didn’t tell me much.” She sat at the table and turned to Michael. “His loss must have hurt so much. How old were you?”

  There was only a brief pause before he answered. “Sixteen.”

  “And Dylan?”

  “Twelve.”

  Nora winced. His death had left its mark on the entire family.

  “Tell me about your little brother, Michael.”

  He didn’t answer right away, as if skeptical of her interest. Then Becky set her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. He looked at her and the two had a silent conversation loaded so heavily with love and compassion that Nora could feel it across the table. Michael looked up and gave her a crooked smile so much like Asher’s she had to force herself to focus on what the young man was saying.

  “Dylan was the coolest kid. He could make anyone laugh, and he did. All the time. I helped him set up a motion sensor in his hospital room one Halloween, and he scared a nurse half to death when this recording of spooky music started playing and lights started flickering. She let out a scream and everyone came running.” Michael started to laugh. “And that was nothing. When he was only seven, he got his hands on a paintball gun...”

  The rest of the meal was filled with stories of a young boy with a big heart and a sharp wit. The more Michael talked about his brother, the more his shoulders relaxed and the more animated he became. Finally, after devouring two pieces of upside-down cake, he leaned back in his chair and rolled his neck.

  “Damn, I haven’t talked that much about him in a long, long time.”

  “Your mom doesn’t talk about him, either?”

  Michael shrugged. “She doesn’t avoid it, like Dad does, but she’s not here, you know? It’s not something that comes up on phone calls. She’s trying to focus on her new life in California.”

  “How long have your parents been divorced?” She knew the pressures of having a sick child could break the best of marriages.

  “Officially? Two years. But they separated six months after Dylan...” Michael gave Becky a small smile of gratitude when she reached over to hold his hand.

  “They didn’t get divorced until after he died? After they’d been through so much together? How sad...” Nora stopped herself. This was none of her business. Becky gave her a curious look, apparently thinking the same thing.

  “Mom and Dad were a solid team the whole time Dylan was alive. We called ourselves the Warrior Clan and Dylan was...”

  “He was your Little Warrior.” Nora finished the sentence, remembering Asher’s fevered words in the middle of the night.

  Michael raised his brows. “That’s right. But once Dylan was gone, Mom and Dad were pretty much gone, too. Dad worked at my grandfather’s architectural firm. It’s where he and Mom met. But he quit when Dylan died. He started drinking and just withdrew from everything. Mom did the total opposite. She hadn’t worked in the office for years, but she started doing eighty-hour weeks all of a sudden. She needed to be constantly busy, and Dad didn’t want to move a muscle. As the old cliché goes, they grew apart.”

  Nora stared at Michael, thinking about what he’d just described. A family blown to pieces by the death of a child. The father hiding in a bottle. The mother hiding in her work. And a sixteen-year-old boy alone in the middle.

  She didn’t trust herself to say anything without shedding tears, so she stood and started to clear the table. Becky jumped up to help in the kitchen, while Michael walked to the windows and stared out over Main Street. The two women worked without speaking for a while before Nora put her hand over Becky’s.

  “He’s quite an impressive young man.”

  Becky grinned. “I know, right? We had something in common from the start, with him losing Dylan and me losing Daddy, and everything just grew from there.”

  Nora nodded. “I’m glad you had each other to talk to.”

  “We could tell each other anything without being judged.” Nora tensed, and Becky was quick to explain. “Mom, whenever I talk about Daddy, you get all tweaky about it. Michael just listens. And he can’t talk about Dylan with his parents, but I was there. Listening.”

  Michael was walking back toward them when Nora answered. “When times get tough, be sure to remember what brought you two together. Trust and listening.”

  The kids were getting ready to leave shortly after that, loaded down with leftovers to reheat. A family reunited. As Michael opened the back door, Nora thought of Asher. He was the one piece of the family puzzle still missing.

  Michael stepped outside and stopped so quickly that Becky bumped into him. He was staring to the right, his shoulders tense.

  “Dad?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ASHER RECOGNIZED HIS son’s Jeep when he pulled into the lot behind his building. Michael had a key to the apartment, but he hadn’t used it in ages. What was he doing here so late? Was something wrong? Was he here to accept Asher’s offer for Stanford?

  He whipped his truck into a parking space and took the metal stairs two at a time. But his apartment was locked up tight. He glanced back to the lot. That was definitely Michael’s Jeep—it still had the dent on the dri
ver’s side from when Michael hit a deer last summer.

  Muffled voices and laughter came from Nora’s apartment as her door opened. Michael stepped out. Nora’s daughter was right behind him.

  “Dad?”

  He hadn’t seen Michael since their argument at the mountain house ten days ago. And now here he was, apparently attending an intimate little dinner right freaking next door to him.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He saw the pained reaction on Michael’s face and cursed under his breath. This was not the way he wanted things to be. But he’d dug himself into this hole and didn’t seem capable of getting out.

  Michael’s voice was cool. “Nora had us over for a family meal.” He held up a bag full of leftovers. “You remember family meals, don’t you, Dad?”

  Nora’s voice came from the hallway. “Michael, stop it.”

  Asher’s internal reaction was quick and hot. What right did this woman have to correct his son? What right did she have to be inviting him into her home like he was part of her family? Why were the three of them laughing together like they were all lifelong friends? His lips curled into a snarl, but before he could speak, Michael gave him a dismissive up and down look.

  “It’s okay, Nora.” Michael glanced over his shoulder into the apartment and smiled. After the look Asher had just gotten, Michael smiled at her. “My fiancée and I are leaving. Thanks for a great meal and a really cathartic conversation.” Michael gave Asher a look filled with resentment. “It was great to talk about Dylan.”

  That name froze Asher in place, speechless.

  Michael moved to allow Nora’s daughter, Becky—there, he remembered her name—to precede him down the steps. As she moved past, her long coat swung open, revealing her rounded stomach. Her hand raised to rest on the swell. His grandson. The sight made him withdraw into his doorway, his chest constricting with emotions he couldn’t begin to identify. He watched them drive away, his throat thick with sorrow.

  “Asher, I’m so sorry. He shouldn’t have said...” Nora’s words faded when he glared at her. He was still struggling to contain all the feelings crashing around inside him, suddenly loose from their cages and looking to tear someone apart. He took a menacing step toward the only target in sight.