The Accidentals(91)

My father checks his watch. “But we’re supposed to leave.”

“That house has been for sale for six months. It’s not going anywhere.” At that, her phone rings. She checks the caller’s name and winks at Frederick. “Hello? Hi, Debbie… Oh, you don’t say!” Norah gives Frederick the thumbs up. “That’s really good news. I’ll tell him.”

“I can’t believe you pulled that off,” Frederick mutters.

“You want it signed today? Well, I believe the client is at Wheelock’s for a few more minutes before he leaves town for the weekend. I can meet you there.”

When she hangs up, Frederick picks Norah up and kisses her. “How much money did you just save me?” he asks her.

“A couple of semesters at Claiborne College,” she says. “Now unhand me, so I can at least pretend to be a professional.” She straightens out her shirt. Norah is just starting to show, and I’ve been sneaking looks at her rounder belly. “Debbie wants you to sign an offer sheet. It’s just one page.”

Two minutes later, an older woman with a poof of gray hair teeters into the restaurant on impractical heels. I see Norah’s face close up as she approaches. “Afternoon, Debbie.” They are obviously not friends.

“Norah.” Debbie nods, handing her a page.

“Thank you.” Norah reads it quickly. “Subject to inspection…good. Okay.” She hands the page to Frederick.

Debbie beams up at my father. “It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Ricks.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Debbie,” my father says, and Norah rolls her eyes.

Frederick takes his autograph sharpie from his pocket. “Turn around, Jake.” My father presses the sheet of paper against Jake’s back and signs.

Debbie gives him another megawatt smile. “Norah, we’ll get a contract to you early next week.” She starts to turn away, but her smile shifts. “Why, Norah! You’re pregnant! Did you get married and I missed it?”

There is a dramatic silence, as if the needle had been yanked from a vinyl record. The only sound is my father sucking in his breath.

“Jesus, Debbie!” Heads swing around to locate Norah’s defender, and I’m startled to note that it’s Darcy, her serving tray cocked against her hip. She glares at the realtor. “Who says things like that? This isn’t 1957.” With outrage on her face, Darcy hands me two Cokes. “Besides. What an attractive and talented child that’s going to be.” Darcy pats Frederick on the chest and stomps back toward the kitchen.

Debbie looks slowly from Norah to Frederick and then back again. After turning three subsequent shades of purple, she carries the signed paper out of the restaurant.

It’s still quiet when Frederick puts his hands on Norah’s shoulders. “God, I’m so sorry. That’s not what you signed up for.”

She sighs. “Actually, that’s exactly what I signed up for.”

Her answer makes me flinch. Nineteen years ago, my mother must have heard that much and worse. Mom never had a ring on her finger, or a man at her side.

Maybe if she’d lived longer, she would have gotten over her anger. I sure hope so.

When Darcy next emerges from the kitchen, it’s to a standing ovation. But she brushes aside the praise with, “It just had to be said.”

“Okay, she’s growing on me,” Norah whispers to me after Darcy walks away.

“I hear you,” I reply. Today I feel the same way about Norah. Almost.

She plays with the straw in her seltzer water. “You know, Frederick, I don’t have enough furniture for this house. It’s going to be awfully bare for a while.”

He shrugs. “I have furniture.”

My eyebrows go up, and Norah catches it. “Not so much?” she asks me.

“What little there is takes the style of Early American Bachelor.”

“Oh dear,” Norah says.

Frederick looks from Norah to me. “Tough crowd here for a Saturday,” he says. Then he drains his beer.

Henry waves his hands in the air. “Let’s go people. Time to saddle up!”

Unfortunately, Aurora has not appeared yet. I run outside to look down Main Street. There’s a chartered bus waiting there, and its door swings open. “Hola, Rachel,” says the driver.

“Carlos!” I cry. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Vamos a Massachusetts?”

“Momentito.” But where is Aurora?

One by one, everyone comes out of the bar and boards the bus. But I pace the sidewalk, staring at my phone. When it finally it rings, I answer immediately. “Aurora, where are you?”

“Can I bring a date?”

“Well…” I’m annoyed by the last-minute question. But if there’s already a hotel room for Jake, they can double up. “Sure. But only if you can both be here in three minutes.” I realize I sound a bit curt. “I can’t wait to meet him,” I add.

“Right. You’re going to be surprised.”

“Whatever, Aurora. Get over here! It’s time to go.”

I run to the back of the bus to tell Frederick. But he and Jake are in the middle of a discussion.

“The problem with Beane’s analytical model is not that it failed, but that it was too widely adopted,” Jake says. “The effect was diluted by every successive adoptee.”