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tip of my nose.
Why does she always do that? And why is it so adorable?
Irene, our pretty server with dark lipstick and a Spanish accent, takes our order. Nora does me a favor and orders all of our food. Her voice changes into a beautiful lilt as she does so. I sit enchanted into silence until the server leaves and Nora begins a new conversation.
“Have you been to France?” Her eyes scan the French-themed décor on the walls.
I shake my head. Have you been to France? she asked so casually, like she was asking if I had been to the grocery store on the corner.
“No. I haven’t been. You?” My voice is shaking.
Why can’t I just be calm and cool, even for a little bit?
“I have. I’ve been twice with my family on vacation. But I’ve only seen the typical touristy things. I want to see the real France. I want to go where the French people go. Not where you pay thirty dollars for a glow-in-the-dark Eiffel Tower statue. I want to eat real crepes and try my best to speak French. I want to have coffee that doesn’t need a packet of sugar.” Nora takes a breath and covers her mouth. “I ramble a lot.” She laughs.
I take a drink of my water and try to think of something smart to say. I’m fresh out of smart, well-traveled words, so I ask another question. “Does your family travel a lot?”
I know very little about her family. I know that her parents live down the street from my mom and Ken, and that her dad is a surgeon and wanted her to be one. She doesn’t share much, and when she does, she only gives me tiny clues that I have to piece together.
“Yeah. They do. My sister is pregnant right now, so we aren’t going on our usual trip for Christmas, but we normally take one or two a year. I didn’t go on the last one because of the wreck—”
Nora pauses for a moment. She feels as if she’s said too much. I can tell.
“But now that Stausey is pregnant and due a week before Christmas, my dad thinks it’s best to stay here.”
There’s a hint of frustration in Nora’s voice again, but I don’t know enough to know where it stems from.
Wreck?
Pregnant sister?
“How old is your sister?” I ask, walking on eggshells.
“Thirty. Five years older than me. It’s her first child with her husband, Todd. That baby is going to be the most spoiled little thing.” Nora’s smile is soft now. I can tell she likes the idea of being an aunt. “Speaking of”—she runs her fingers over the condensation on her glass—“you’ll have a little sister soon. How’s your mom doing?”
Nora is so good at redirecting conversations that by the time I noticed she had, we were nearly done eating. Turns out, she was right about the food. Every single thing was delicious. The cauliflower-and-leek casserole was my favorite, and I’m not even 100 percent sure what a leek is.
I felt guilty while shoving the burger down my throat, knowing that Nora doesn’t eat meat. The thought had slipped my mind when I ordered it. Not until I offered her a bite of pretty bloodred meat did I remember. Even still, it was too good to not eat. I just made sure not to talk with my mouth full.
“You have to try this last thing and then I’ll leave you alone,” Nora tells me when I clear my plate. I don’t like the sound of that, of her leaving me alone. “Only for now,” she clarifies, and I bite back a smile.
She dips her spoon into a bowl with burned cheese crusted around the edges. “Close your eyes.”
I do just that. Something mushy and warm touches my lips when I open my mouth.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Nora instructs.
