My Nora (18 page)

A pink puffy coat came into Nora’s periphery as Karen wound around the corner of the sunroom outside and made her way to the door. She stepped in and looked over at Maggie. She recognized the woman judging by the way her eyes narrowed, but said only, “Damn. I wanted to use your sofa.”

“You can sleep on the one in the living room, honey. I took the slipcover off so it should be less slippery,” Nora said, watching Karen unzip her coat. “And there’s some tart lemonade in the refrigerator.”

“Hey, thanks.” Karen hung her coat on the hook inside the kitchen entrance and kicked her mules off near the stove before getting a cup out of the cabinet. Maggie scribbled furiously.

“Okay, so tell me about the piece you’re working on now,” Maggie said, tapping the top of her ballpoint pen against her prominent chin.

Nora crossed her legs and pushed her hair back out of her face again. “This is the fifth in a series I’m doing for a gallery in D.C. All of the paintings are from scenes from Gates and Chowan Counties that I’ve stylized a bit. They feature real people doing seemingly mundane things.”

“So what makes them interesting?”

“It goes back to being present and good witnesses to our surroundings. I think there’s a bit of humor in most things if we look hard enough to find them. I overlay fantasy onto my paintings to make people more curious and wonder what things they could look at differently.”

“Well, this painting seems rather unfocused. Are you close to finishing?” Maggie asked, making an accusatory face that really ruffled Nora’s feathers. She ground her teeth.

“I’m sorry, Miss Dillard, are you in some way suggesting that the art that has been published under my name hasn’t been created by me personally?”

“That’s the rumor.”

“Just who started that rumor?” Nora hopped down from her stool and held the back door open for Matt, who was walking around to the sunroom carrying three food boxes with Hattie in his wake.

“I don’t know who started it. I just, uh, stumbled onto it during my research. Everyone says you go into hiding when you paint, so no one has actually seen you finish a painting. It bears asking.” The statement reeked of Elvin and Nora knew it.

Matt stood in the doorway glaring at Maggie. “That’s a crock of shit,” he said, passing through to the kitchen. Hattie mouthed, “I’ll call you later” from outside and Nora nodded at her.

Nora returned to her stool, eager to have some distance between her and the reporter. “I’m sure quite of few of my instructors from college would find that rumor amusing,” she said. “As well as my manager, Ms. Chin.”

“Well, why you don’t you paint something live to dispel the rumors once and for all?” Maggie asked. She didn’t even pretend to be recording the conversation anymore.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Dillard,” Nora stood and started up the sunroom steps, sweeping in arm in the general direction of the front door. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing your work in
The Albemarle Times
.”

Maggie stared coolly at Nora from the sofa for a few moments, and then understanding the interview would go no further, gathered up her things and left.

“I’m surprised you even had her here,” Matt said, rolling up the sleeves of his thermal shirt and opening a barbecue container.

“Is the food here?” Karen called from the front sofa.

Matt raised an eyebrow. He obviously hadn’t noticed Karen’s coat on the hook.

“Yes, Karen,” Nora called, taking a seat at the counter and pulling open the utensil drawer to retrieve forks. Then she looked at Matt. “I didn’t know that’s who
The Albemarle Times was
sending. They simply said they would send a reporter out to interview me and ask questions. If I had known it would be her, I would have canceled.”

Karen padded into the room, fetched a plate and a fork, and disappeared with them. When she was gone, Matt wound his fists into Nora’s hair and looked down at her adoringly. “Pretty.” She turned her head to side just as he was bending down for a kiss so all he got was her cheek.

He chuckled. “A little late to be playing hard to get, don’t you think?”

Nora’s cheeks burned with the memory of what they’d done thrice the night before. He was right, and she hated it. When he pushed her hair back from her neck and caressed her shoulders with his lips she let him, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, Matt, I’m a little distracted right now.”

He took it well. He unwound her hair from his hands and arranged her hair back where he’d found it. “I bet.” He carried his food to the table and turned his chair so he could face her. “I tried calling you earlier,” he said, his expression going somewhat dark. “I had a bit of a confrontation with — ” he mouthed the word “Chad” so Karen couldn’t hear it, “ — earlier. He had two black eyes and said you gave ’em to him. What happened?”

Nora looked down at her fingers and repeatedly clenched them into fists and released them. “You know, my ex-husband was the one who taught me to fight. We were from the same neighborhood and as kids I got picked on a lot for being so small. He was taking boxing lessons and taught me a few ways to defend myself.” She paused to examine her neatly trimmed nails. “Anyway, I think Chad is still trying to finish his trading card collection.”

Matt dropped his fork and gripped the table’s edge as if he were about to stand. Nora went over to him and rested her hands on his tense shoulders, keeping him seated. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

“You punched him?”

“Yeah. Took him about five minutes to wake up. Had to turn the hose on him.”

“God, Nora, I don’t even know what to say. I threatened to shoot him, so he’ll either leave you and Karen alone or he’ll try to file a police report against me.”

“Exactly the kind of P.R. I need,” Nora said with a smirk, closing the lid to her dinner and stowing it in the refrigerator. “I’m going to go paint.”

“Sorry, baby.”

“Eh. What else could go wrong?”

*

As it turned out, a lot could go wrong. The Magee and Abraham Gallery was broken into in early February and its storeroom was nearly emptied out by thieves. Three of Nora’s four submitted paintings had been taken. The police found the thieves quickly, however the paintings were trapped at the department as evidence until the case was tried. Spence Abraham was in an absolute rage and Nora was understandably stunned. Those paintings accounted for hundreds of hours of work. The police were doing what they could to resolve the case quickly.

Nora still hadn’t finished the fifth painting as she’d entered a severe state of artist’s block and avoided painting by leaving the county temporarily. That also meant leaving Matt, which he hadn’t been thrilled about, but he was being a trooper because his grandmother had returned and her home improvement demands were keeping him busy. “You can’t run a household by doing patch jobs here and there,” she’d scolded. So Matt was busy each day after work replacing series of pipes, hammering the gutters back into place, doing long-overdue painting in the bathrooms and kitchen, and replacing twenty-year-old carpet.

Maggie Dillard had kicked up a bit of dust with her supposed “investigative reporting” by insinuating that Nora didn’t do her own work. Nora had lots of defenders swoop to her rescue online, but all the same Bennie was scrambling to do damage control and find out whether Maggie and the paper could be sued for libel. Nora didn’t really want to sue, but if Maggie didn’t retract her statements she may not have a choice.

As Nora sat in a corner booth at Fella’s Diner in Baltimore, flanked by Bennie and select members of the band Payday for Jay-jay they’d met on the cruise, her emotional state was a fragile one. Elvin was trying to piggyback on the attention Maggie’s viral article had drummed up and was granting interviews to arts reporters and book authors so he could offer his oh-so-knowledgeable opinion. Sitting in that restaurant in front of her bowl of soup and a chocolate milkshake, the last thing she wanted to do was talk about her album cover sketches or the designs she’d conceptualized for Jay-jay’s new line of guitar airbrush stencils. Fortunately, Bennie was doing all the talking. Whenever she needed Nora to say “yes” or “no” to something she’d nudge her with her elbow and Nora would give the appropriate response.

Later that evening at Bennie’s townhouse, the two women stood in front of a blank wall in what had been Bennie’s guest bedroom. She’d removed the furniture in anticipation of placing nursery gear in its place. “I’m not sure I want to make the commitment, though,” Bennie said, rubbing her chin as she thought. “I mean, in theory the idea sounds good, but it would kill me to sell the place and to think about someone painting over it.”

“It’s just a doodle, Bennie.”

“A Nora Fredrickson doodle.”

Nora smiled. “I didn’t know you were thinking about selling the place.”

“Yeah, I’ve given it some thought.” She idly rubbed her slightly bloated belly. “I talked to my boss last week about how I’m getting bored there and I suggested I might quit and go freelance. He nearly lost his shit.”

“Well, you’ve been there for five years. That’s like an eon in advertising agency time.”

“Yeah, well, the hours are catching up to me. I can’t keep working until question mark o’clock every night and then coming home to deal with the insomnia and getting up the next day to do it all over again.”

“Well, Bennie, if the work you’re doing for me is adding extra — ”

Bennie wagged an index finger at Nora. “Don’t even go there. I actually like hobnobbing in the visual arts community. People are so unpredictable. I need a break at the very least. My boss told me that if I wanted to go contract rather than outright leaving, he’d make it happen. I’d be able to live wherever, and to be honest, I kind of like the idea of leaving Maryland.”

Nora sat in Bennie’s worn armchair, agape. “You never let on that you didn’t like living here. You never said you wanted to leave.”

“Neither did you.”

“True enough. Where would you go?”

Bennie shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll buy a camper and travel the country with the baby.”

Nora cocked an eyebrow at her long-time friend.

“Okay, maybe not. You know, Gerta said she’d watch my baby.”

Nora’s jaw dropped. That didn’t sound like Gerta. “When did she say that?”

Bennie shrugged. “A couple of weeks ago. I called your house to give you an update on the stolen painting situation and she answered.”

Nora thought back. Gerta moved in and out of her house with such stealth she could hardly remember seeing her. All she remembered was that her closets had been suspiciously well organized when she packed for her trip. “That’s seems strangely kind of her.”

“I think she has ulterior motives. It’s a weird situation. I think she wants the kids to be able to see each other. It really wouldn’t happen otherwise and we all know it.”

“But you’re considering it?”

Bennie shrugged again. “I think part of me has already decided. Besides, I miss seeing my friend. It sucks here without you.”

“Uh, thanks, I think. You know, I’ve been thinking about this whole ‘Nora doesn’t paint her own pictures’ debacle and I thought about what you said on the cruise about doing something via webcam.”

Bennie perked up. “I still think it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t know. I want to do something that’s more substantial and that’ll leave a mark.”

“What were you thinking?” Bennie pulled her phone out of her cleavage and woke it up.

“Well, I’m already a step ahead of you. There’s a highway overpass in Edenton where seventeen meets thirty-two. I’ve gotten permission to paint something underneath. They’re leaning toward an Edenton Tea Party scene, but I’m waiting on approval.”

“Tea Party? As in the splinter Republican group?”

Nora giggled. “No, it was a local event leading up to the Revolutionary War staged by some of the more prominent women in town. I just need to figure out how to put a Nora Fredrickson twist on a historical event.”

“Got a date lined up?”

“Not firm. It’ll probably be next month.”

“Well, that lines up perfectly with the end of the scheduled viewings at Chantilly’s.”

“Yeah. How’s that going, by the way? I haven’t talked to her since the appointments began.”

“Awesome. You have no idea how many people are waiting for it to go into general viewing so they can photograph it. Spencer Abraham is pissed you didn’t offer it to him.”

“Well, I didn’t plan to offer it to anyone. I actually thought about burning it.”

“You hold your whore tongue, whore.”

“Hey, baby.” Matt let himself into the sunroom via the back door and wrapped his arms around Nora behind her stool to draw her into a hug. “Oma said you were back.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“Missed you.”

“Really?” Nora had never been told that by anyone except her parents. Well, and Bennie. She put down her palette and brush and craned her neck back to look up at him.

“Yeah.” He found her lips and grazed them with his own. “I don’t see enough of you.”

“And you seem to tolerate that.”

“Well, that’s our normal, right?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Nora kissed one of the hands draped over her shoulders. He was right. She hadn’t led him to believe otherwise and he hadn’t demanded more. Maybe there was some potential there.

“You haven’t made much progress with this painting, huh?”

Nora looked over it. It was the same basic painting it had been a month before, and Nora had never been so stymied over a single piece. “I think I might scrap it and start over. The scene didn’t interpret to paint the way I thought. I may need to go back to my photos to figure out why I snapped the image in the first place.”

“Well, good luck.”

“Where you going?” Matt had removed his arms from around Nora’s neck and was heading back toward the door.

“I was going to leave you to it. I have a book I was going to start reading this evening.”

A man capable of quietly entertaining himself: Nora was amazed.

“Well, don’t be in a hurry. I missed you, too.” There. She said it, and immediately felt better for it.

“Okay, the book sounds a little more boring now,” Matt said, returning to his former stance behind her with a smile on his face.