My Nora

chapter Five


Nora’s newest painting had nearly been a disaster until she figured out how to anchor all that bland color. The green murk of the water, the faded tones of the tree trunks, and the leafless boughs of the swamp had made her canvas look like so much pea soup, even with the flower-colored houseboat prominent and its resident clearly presented. It wasn’t until she took a break to peel and cut the bag of bright red apples someone had left on her porch — probably Karen since they were in one of those plastic bags hospitals give patients to take their belongings home in — that she had an idea of what the painting was missing.

Nora painted a red velvet robe with an ermine collar onto the slumbering man, put gold buckles on his rubber boots, and propped a jewel-studded crown on top of his fisherman’s hat. She gave the tail-wagging mutt that sat at the edge of the porch a jeweled collar and a spiked tail, and instead of his mouth being open to merely bark, an anemic puff of smoke seeped out. With the peeling paint of the house and the amount of crap piled inside like some sort of floating junkyard, it was an odd juxtaposition, and that was Nora’s intention. She named the painting “The Swamp Is His Moat” and signed it with a flourish as soon as it was dry.

Nora knew she had Matt to thank for the inspiration behind the painting. She would have never considered paddling into the swamp on her own. Thoughts of the aftermath in his carport had kept her up all that evening — her skin prickling at the memory of his touch. Heart racing at a phantom echo of his deep voice in her ear. The thought of his strong body. Gentle spirit. The way he looked at her like she had some value. Then she’d run away like a coward because she didn’t know what else to do.

She took a picture of the large canvas and emailed it to Bennie. Bennie, still going on and on about Chad, enthusiastically asked when she should drive down to fetch it.

“Don’t worry about that,” Nora said when she called. Now that she had a roof and four walls to hold everything in, she could actually afford to leave the house without worrying about theft. “I’ll drive it up myself. I’ve got some things I need to get done in Baltimore.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“No, honey. I need to do this myself.”

*

In the early morning of the following Monday as he was walking out onto his deck, preparing to head to the fishery, Matt found Nora waiting on his steps. He looked at her with surprise, standing there dressed in slim black pants and a long burgundy sweater that set off the warm undertones in her skin. On top of her head she wore a brimmed cable-knit cap, but had neglected to push all of her hair up into it as one plaited lock tried to escape just over her ear. Matt’s gaze fell to it, fingers itching to touch her. She had taken the trouble to put on a bit of eyeliner and dab some shimmering blush on her cheeks that made her look radiant.

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but before he could spit out the apology he thought Nora deserved for his behavior after their outing, she said, “I have to be in D.C. by lunchtime to deliver a painting before the gallery owner leaves for his Thanksgiving vacation.”

“You finished another painting?”

She looked down at her black leather boots. “Yeah. Only Bennie has seen it.”

Matt nodded and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He tried not to feel hurt. “What’s it of?”

Nora met his gaze and cringed. “I’ll show you a picture when I get back. I should be home late tonight if you want to come over. I have heat now.”

Matt said nothing. He appreciated the invitation. It was a door he’d been wishing she’d open, but he was afraid of her tentativeness. He didn’t know what it meant.

“Hey, the reason I came over is to let you know if you wanted to hunt while I was gone, it’s fine with me. I wanted to thank you for taking me out on your boat.” She put her hand into the kangaroo pocket of her sweater and pulled out a tri-folded sheet of paper. “It helped me paint something I would have never thought of otherwise.”

Matt took the “Permission to Hunt” document and examined it quietly.

“I figured that as long as I’m not here, I don’t have to worry about getting shot through my windows,” she said, forcing a laugh.

Matt re-folded the paperwork and pressed it back at Nora. “I don’t want that.” When Nora didn’t immediately take it back, he pulled open her pocket and placed it inside.

Her face fell. “I don’t understand. I thought … ”

“Nora.” He gripped her shoulders gently and forced her to look up into his eyes. “I don’t want you thinking the only reason I want to spend time with you is so I can chase deer on the property line.”

Matt could see her struggle to swallow as she looked at her idling car or the empty fields or anywhere besides Matt’s eyes. “Isn’t it?”

“No!” he hissed, dropping his hands from her shoulders and using them to rake through his untended hair. “That’s what I wanted at first, yes. But that’s before I met you. Hunting’s not important to me right now. I don’t want you feeling unsafe.”

He reached a hand out to cup her chin, but Nora took a couple of steps back, the butter-soft soles of her flat boots making no noise as she retreated from him. Her face wore a fearful grimace Matt didn’t understand.

“I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later?” She looked at him warily. Matt nodded and stood there on the deck, feeling utterly perplexed, fondling his truck keys as he watched her drive away.

*

“So, that’s it, then? It’s all through?” Nora asked the suited woman seated beside her at the table. People were filing out of the room and the entire procedure had taken surprisingly little time.

“That’s it,” her lawyer said, clicking the tabs on her hard-sided briefcase shut. “Smart of him to not try to get more of the money you earned during the marriage. That would have been shameful given his complete lack of support for your career.”

Nora let out a deep breath. “So, legally, I can drop his name now?”

“Yup. Go on and notify the DMV and Social Security Administration. You can use your divorce decree as proof.”

Nora’s maiden name was Fredrickson and although she took her husband’s name after they married at twenty-four, she still conducted business under her old name. Changing all those bills sent to Nora Gutierrez would be an onerous task, but one she looked forward to. Nora and Elvin had only been married for a year before he moved out of the home they shared, claiming that Nora wasn’t committed to the marriage since she practically locked herself up when working on her art. He started finding other ways to entertain himself and, more critically, other company to keep.

Nora was aware that her art was her greatest gift and also her biggest fault. When she visualized a painting, she needed to get it on canvas immediately for fear the imagery would leave her. She sometimes even ate while painting, and had more than once fallen asleep while at her easel. After they’d been separated for a couple of years with no desire from either party to reconcile, Nora finally filed for divorce. Due to the backlog in the court system, it took almost another full year to get a court date. Nora was glad to put it behind her. She could move on now and not feel so guilty about feeling a certain way about a man who most definitely wasn’t her husband. She hadn’t even told Matt she had a husband.

So, Nora killed two birds with one stone. She dropped her painting off in D.C., received gushing accolades from Spence, who was thrilled to finally meet her in the flesh, and then made it north to Baltimore by two-thirty for her court appearance.

She walked away from her lawyer in a curious state of half-joy, half-terror and cried there in the parking lot for half an hour before starting her car. After a short pep talk to herself, she started her car and drove to the house she’d shared with her now ex-husband for a year. He’d won the house, only because Nora didn’t fight for it, but there were a few objects in the attic she wanted to retrieve.

She stood there on the stoop, forcing her key into the lock when the sound of cracking ice on the sidewalk behind her made her turn. There Elvin stood: tall, dark, and thin and wearing an expression of utter arrogance Nora had once found sexy but now found pretentious. Nora wanted to knock that cocked eyebrow right off his face, and she probably could do it. He’d taught her how.

“Changed the locks,” he said.

“That fast?”

Elvin shrugged. “You were gone.”

Nora fidgeted her keys in her hands and ground her teeth. “I just want my grandmother’s frame and the paintings in the attic.”

Elvin walked past her and put his back to the door. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll ship them to you, if they’re even there.”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

Elvin rubbed the little soul patch beneath his bottom lip and narrowed his nearly black eyes at her. “Had to clean up. Pizarra limpia.”

“You cleaned the slate every time you left the house when we were married. Janelle. Arianne. Marla. Who else?” Nora forced the house keys off the ring and flung them in the general direction of Elvin’s head, one by one. He swatted them away.

“There’s your f*cking clean slate, pendejo. Send me my shit.”

Elvin scoffed.

Nora stormed down the steps. The confusion she’d felt earlier had dissipated. Now she was just pissed. It was about time.

*

When Nora turned into her gravel driveway at nearly midnight, spent from the long day, she was happy to see her porch lights shining and craved the softness of the new sheets on the bed inside the house. When she stepped out of the car, she noticed a faint light shining through the trees, flickering as the holder ambled closer. When Matt got close enough to see Nora’s eyes he turned off his flashlight. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey, you want to come in?” Nora asked tiredly, assessing his thin tee shirt and the flannel pants he’d obviously put on for bed. It was so late. She wondered, briefly, if he’d stayed up waiting on her. After her encounter with Elvin she needed a calming presence around her. One that didn’t make her feel inadequate with every stare.

Matt cringed. “I can’t stay, baby, though I’d like to stick around and have a beer with you. I gotta get up early for work. I just wanted to find out what happened.”

Nora felt the blood drain from her face, although thankfully she knew Matt couldn’t tell in the dim light. “What happened?”

“With the painting. Did they like it?” He smirked, obviously noting the confusion she wore on her face.

“Oh,” she said, feeling her eyes widen. “Yes. They liked it a lot. The first painting doesn’t go up until January sixteenth, so I can ease up a bit now that I have two in. It’ll be nice to spend some time getting the house fixed up for the holidays and getting my luggage unpacked.” She chuckled and relaxed her shoulders. “Maybe I’ll actually find my nightgown in this mess.”

He smiled. “Maybe. Hey, speaking of the holidays, that’s why I came over,” he said, fixing the collar of Nora’s wool coat so it lay flat. Nora resisted the urge to caress his hand with her chin like a cat. If she touched him, she knew she wouldn’t want to stop, and she had to stop or it would all end badly. Again.

“You want to go to the Edenton Christmas parade with me?” He shone the light of his flashlight in his face so Nora could see him wink. “I get a special seat.”

“Christmas?” Nora climbed her porch steps and wriggled free the exterior paint swatch cards the contractor had left shoved into her screen door while she was out. “Isn’t it a bit early to be thinking about that?”

Matt looked down at his large hands and studied his nails. “Well, not exactly. The parade is the second weekend in December and after this Friday I’m going to be out of town for three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Nora didn’t see much of Matt, but she’d always taken for granted he’d be around if she wanted to.

“Yeah. I take all my vacation time at once every year. Me and Karen go to Kansas to stay with my mom’s family. I’m going alone this year since Karen has to work.”

“Wow. Have a good time, I guess. I’m going on a working vacation next month with my friend. A cruise. I think Kansas actually sounds like the more desirable location between the two.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Are your parents going to be there?”

“Our parents are dead, baby.”

Nora gaped with embarrassment and worked her mouth open and shut repeatedly, trying to squeeze out an appropriate apology but coming up with nothing.

“It’s okay. They’ve been gone for a long time, Nora.”

“Still, it must be … ” She didn’t know what to say, so she just dropped the subject altogether. “Maybe I’ll take Karen some meals while you’re gone, assuming I’m not up to my elbows in paint.”

Matt put a hand out and tweaked the bill of Nora’s hat. “I’m sure she’d like that. She’d probably starve to death otherwise, and she’s skinny enough as it is. So, you’ll go to the parade with me when I get back?”

“Yes. Certainly,” she answered quickly, thinking perhaps if she did that small thing with him it would make up for her carelessness in the conversation. How did she not think to ask about their parents in all that time? Anyone else would have found it odd that two siblings, ages widely spaced, would be living together in a four-bedroom ranch house with no family around. Nora thought that if she had been a better friend, she would have asked. Perhaps she didn’t deserve to have friends with the lifestyle she kept. And when she looked up into Matt’s kind gaze, she thought she didn’t deserve for him to be looking at her with as much tenderness as he was … even if she needed it so badly.

*

Matt was a moving target until he left on Saturday, running endless errands and doing house repairs after work every day, so Nora didn’t see him until he folded himself uncomfortably into the front passenger seat of Karen’s small car and waved at her as they drove slowly past her yard on the way to the airport. Nora had been on her porch assessing paint swatches on the siding and trim when he left. She’d looked up at the last minute, so flustered by the varying shades of white and taupe smeared across the siding that she almost missed him. Nora couldn’t tell if he’d seen her waving back or if he assumed she was seriously that aloof.

“Damn it! I should have gotten his number,” she said to herself, snapping her fingers. Not that she knew what she would say if she called, but maybe a friendly text message or two would keep him wondering about her. She knew it was selfish to lead him on, but at the same time she didn’t know what her own intentions were. She just knew that thinking of him cleared away all the vitriol she was feeling about Elvin. Thoughts of one man brought her down. The other propped her up.

Nora woke up her phone and dialed Bennie’s number.

“Hey, you seen Chad?” Bennie asked in lieu of saying “Hello?”

Nora rolled her eyes and put Bennie on speaker. “No, hon. I don’t go looking for him, either. As long as my satellite dish does what it’s supposed to, I have no reason to be anywhere near his field of gravity.”

“Geez, you make it sound like he’s some sort of leper.”

Nora held her tongue. If she thought Bennie was more serious about the blond weirdo than the occasional roll in the hay whenever she drove down to visit Nora, she would have to let her down gently about Chad’s true nature. If she was just in it for the dick — well, they deserved each other. “Listen, I wanted to get your opinion about the paint choices we’ve narrowed down for the house,” Nora said, steering the conversation away from Bennie’s potential conquests. “The shingles are a moss green color, so I’m trying to figure out how bold I want to go with the trim.”

“Send it.”

Nora stepped down from the porch and walked out into the yard to get a bit of the porch roof and the paint swatches together in the same shot. “Can you see that?” she asked at the exact moment an old hatchback coupe puttered slowly past the property. The driver craned her head out the window as if she had an ostrich neck. Nora didn’t pay much attention; it wasn’t unusual for people to see her in the yard and slow down to see what was going on. The property had been unoccupied for so long that people were rightfully curious about their new community member and the rapid series of changes going on to the house. Money greases the construction wheels, she quickly learned.

“Are you going to paint the barn?” Bennie, the graphics designer, asked sagely.

“You think I should?”

“Should, shouldn’t, doesn’t matter. Point is the trim should match the barn color.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Of course you didn’t. You’re too busy looking at fine brushstrokes to see the big picture in the real world. I’m a big-picture person, Nora. That’s why I get paid the big bucks to push pixels around.”

Nora couldn’t niggle about the statement. It was true: Nora sometimes couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Back when she and Elvin were newly married, she might have said that Bennie was wrong, but Nora learned from her own mistakes.

“That gives me some room for creativity, I guess. I wonder if I could get away with painting it black.”

“Uh, no. You going all emo on me? Our people don’t do emo.”

“Our people? I didn’t realize you were descended from African slaves. My bad.”

“Don’t go there, you wretch. You’ve got like, what, two slaves in that side of your family tree? Don’t start going all militant Black Panther on me. I was referring to the old Baltimore clique: our people, man! Anyway, you can’t have a black barn unless you’re going to hang strobe lights and shit inside it and throw raves.”

That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea, but Nora didn’t say so out loud. She loved to dance. Still, she suggested dark gray as an alternative barn color, but didn’t hear anything Bennie said in response because the little hoopty coupe was back and pulling into Nora’s driveway.

“Let me call you back,” she said, ending the call before Bennie could respond and starting to walk the long driveway. A thin dark-skinned woman got out and waved wildly. Nora identified the visitor before she got close enough to see her missing teeth or read the logo on her heather gray sweatshirt. “Hey, Miss Hattie. Whatcha doing on this side of the county line?”

“Ooh, girl. Ain’t you gon’ offer me a cup of coffee? Cold as shit out here today.”

Nora laughed. “Sure. Come on in. I think I’ve got some sludge left in the pot.”

Once Hattie was settled onto one of Nora’s four kitchen chairs with a cup of milky coffee warming her hands, she said, “You ain’t come by the store since you dropped off that picture you printed off wit’ the painting. Oooh, girl, we was so tickled.” Hattie flicked a hand at Nora as if to emphasize that point. “Bossman wanted to know how he could get the real painting and another one besides, so he sent me out to fetch you.”

“You know, you could have just called,” Nora said, nursing a cup of coffee of her own. No one ever called her anymore. It was either email, text, or they just popped by if they saw her standing in the yard, apparently.

“Oh, I know. I made like I didn’t know the number, though, so I could haves me a little break. Bossman’s behind the grill right now, and oooh, girl. It is fun-nee. He ain’t put a hot dog together since he was no bigger than a tick’s dick.”

Nora snorted and sprayed tepid coffee through her nose at the bad mental imagery. When she managed to clear the caffeinated dreck from her sinuses she said, “You know, it may be possible for him to buy the painting, but that’s assuming it doesn’t sell at the gallery. It’ll be up for at least five weeks before the owner entertains any offers of purchase. If it doesn’t sell within a couple of months, it’ll be up to me to sell it or not.”

“Likely he’ll get it?”

“Hard to say. Art buyers are unpredictable. When all is said and done, though, if he wants to hire me to paint something, I’ll certainly consider the offer for what it’s worth.”

“Now let me make sure I got this right, because he gon’ ask me two o’ t’ree times. That painting goes up January sixteenth.”

“Right. In D.C.”

“It hang there for five weeks then he might could buy it.”

“Right. The gallery owner sets the price according to what the market might bear, so it might be a bit steep.”

“Oh, okay. I tell him. He don’t want nobody else to have that painting.” Hattie laughed as if the idea truly amused her. “He was talkin’ about sellin’ postcards and posters of the painting down at the chamber o’ commerce. You think anybody’d buy it?”

“Hattie, there’s no telling what people would buy. I bought these pants, right?” They both looked down at Nora’s acid wash jeggings and said nothing. Point proven.