Nora and Liz (20 page)

Finally Nora looked toward her, smiling. “I do like a lot of what I do, Liz, living in that old house, reading and proofreading and writing poetry, and going to church and tending the garden and putting up the things I grow and making jam from the berries I pick. Sometimes it’s lonely and hard, yes, but I’m not sure I’d know how to cope if I left. Now my life has a predictable rhythm along with the seasons and the chores that go with each one.” Her smile broadened. “I don’t understand how people can live in places where there’s only one season, do you?”

“Like Florida? No. My brother lives in California, near San Francisco. He has half-baked seasons. In the summer the grass turns brown, and in the winter it rains instead of snows.”

“But there’s snow nearby, isn’t there? In the mountains?” Nora laughed. “I read a lot.”

“Yes, you’re right. And he does go skiing. Or he did, before the baby came.”

“Baby!” Nora said wistfully. “It must be nice to have a baby. I wish…” She broke off, shaking her head.

“What?”

“Oh, it’s crazy, but sometimes I do wish I could have a baby. No husband; just a baby.”

“Maybe you could adopt a baby. Single people can, these days.”

Nora gave Liz a look. “Sure,” she said. “As if anyone would let someone in my situation adopt a baby. No electricity, no running water, two old folks who need as much attention as the baby would.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But maybe when…” She stopped.

“Maybe when they die? Maybe. I’ve thought about it. But I’ll probably be too old then.”

Liz studied her face. “Tell me if this is rude,” she said, “but have you thought about what you’ll do when they’re gone?”

“A little. You’re not rude. I don’t know what I’ll do.” Nora sped up—thirty, thirty-five; Liz watched the speedometer, but it steadied just short of forty. “Probably nothing. I’ll probably go right on doing what I’m doing. As I said, I’m not sure I’d know how to cope anywhere else. I suppose I might get the house fixed up, though, someday. Gradually modernized.”

“But not move?”

“I love the house,” Nora said. “I might get some sheep, make a farm out of it again.” She paused as if considering that. “But Father’s healthy as a horse, for all his complaints. He’ll go on forever, I think. What about you? Would you like a baby? A husband?”

“No,” Liz said, startled, then uncomfortable again. Her mind shouted TELL HER!

But she found she couldn’t. “Not a husband,” she said. “But I’d consider a baby.”
If I had a partner,
she added silently. A real relationship, an honest one.

“You could adopt a baby easily, I bet.”

Liz pulled her thoughts back. “Not with my schedule. The kid would have to be in day care a lot, and that’s no good.”

“You could take time off. Couldn’t you? At first?”

“Maybe. But I’m not going to do that. I don’t think I’d want to be a single parent. I’m not as good as you at taking care of people by myself, I’m afraid.”

“But you are good,” Nora said, “at teaching, teaching swimming and driving, anyway. Who’s that? Should I stop?” She slowed down.

A figure was waving at them from the side of the road, a golden retriever by his side. Liz, annoyed, recognized Roy.

“Oh,” she said, “he’s a guy the Davises, you know, at the vegetable stand, introduced me to. Roy Stark. Let’s just wave; you don’t need to stop.”

But Nora had already braked and now Roy was striding toward the car, the dog bounding ahead of him.

“Down, Zeke,” he ordered as the dog jumped enthusiastically on the passenger door, making Liz laugh in spite of herself. “The mail carrier on my route has biscuits in the car so Zeke thinks all cars are full of Milk Bones. Sorry.” Roy pulled the dog down and made him sit. “I don’t think he scratched it,” he said to Nora over Liz’s head, then looked at Liz. “Hi, Liz! Isn’t this your car?”

“Yes,” Liz said.

“She’s teaching me to drive,” Nora explained.

“This is Roy Stark,” Liz said. “Roy, Nora
Tillot
.”

“Oh, so you’re the woman from the
Tillot
place.” Roy, with what Liz was sure was meant to be a dazzling smile, held out a hand, stretching it through the window across Liz. “Nice to meet you.” He winked at Liz. “Told you we’d run into each other,” he said. “By the way, I got your message from Georgia.”

But Nora was already saying “Nice to meet you” to him. “We’ve got this old car at the farm,” she went on, “and Liz thought if I learned how to drive, then maybe we could get it running again and I wouldn’t have to depend on other people for transportation.”

“Good idea,” Roy said. “Hey, listen, if you need help with the car, I’m a pretty good mechanic. And I’d love to see your farm.”

“Are you really?” asked Nora. “A good mechanic?”

“I’ve already asked my dad’s mechanic,” Liz said quickly, then felt ashamed. Can I actually be jealous, she wondered. “Thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome. So, I’ll leave you to your lesson. Good to see you again, Liz.” Roy winked again and stood there watching as they drove off.

“He seems interested in you,” Nora observed after a few minutes of silence.

“More in you, I think. Actually, Nora, I…”

But another squirrel ran across in front of the car, making Nora swerve, brake, and stall again.

Once more, the moment passed.

“There she is, ma’am.”

Ned McNeil, junior, who looked more like his father’s younger brother than his son, straightened up with a wrench in his hand, beaming first at Nora and then at Liz. Ned, senior, Liz’s father’s mechanic, gave something on the underneath of the
Tillots
’ old Ford sedan a quick wipe, and then stood, his grizzled face also beaming. The
Neds
had worked tirelessly all weekend and for two days before, almost camping out in the
Tillots
’ barn and at one point towing the car, which hadn’t run when the
Neds
had first tried it, to their garage on the other side of town so they could put it on the lift. Ralph had grumbled and fought at the idea, first of Nora’s driving lessons and then of having the
Neds
fix the car. “Emergencies, my foot,” he’d growled, when Nora told him that was the purpose of both projects. “Like the telephone. That woman’s a bad influence, Nora. Next thing I know, you’ll be bringing in the electric.” Ralph had refused to take an open interest in the car repairs, but Nora had caught him more than once at the kitchen window. He was there again today, she saw, perhaps because she’d told him this was the day the car would be ready. “And we’ll celebrate tonight,” she’d told him at breakfast, “if it
is
ready.”

Ralph hadn’t reacted, so she thought it wise not to tell him Liz would be staying for supper.

“You’d best take her for a spin, Miss
Tillot
, see how she runs,” said Ned, senior.

“Call me Nora, please,” Nora said for the third or fourth time. She glanced nervously at Liz. “I don’t know if I…”

“Sure, let’s!” Liz opened the driver’s side door and gestured to Nora to climb in.

“You’ll come, too?”

“Try and stop me.” Liz went around to the passenger side, stopping on the way to say to the
Neds
, “Can you guys stick around for a bit? Just to make sure she runs okay? And”—she nodded toward Nora—“to reassure Nora; she’s a little nervous.”

Ned, senior, grinned. “Sure we’ll stick around, Lizzie. But she looked like she did pretty damn well again yesterday,
practising
in your car. You’re a good teacher, I’ll bet.”

“That’s my job, Ned, that’s what I do.” With a wave, Liz slid into the Ford. She took the key from the dashboard and handed it to Nora.

Nora hesitated. “Where’s Father?”

“Still at the kitchen window. Don’t worry The
Neds’ll
handle him, if need be. Come on, Nora, you’ll do fine. And so will old
Esmerelda
, here.”

Nora inserted the key and turned it. The car coughed, bucked a little, then turned over and whirred smoothly; the
Neds
both cheered. “
Esmerelda
?” Carefully, Nora shifted into reverse.

Liz shrugged. “Maybe
Ermentrude
. I always name my cars.”

“Oh really?” Looking over her shoulder, Nora backed away from the barn. Her voice shook a little, but Liz could tell she was excited as well as nervous, and silently thanked the
Neds
again for making this bid for freedom possible.

“So what’s your car’s name?” Nora asked. “The one you’re driving now?”

“Sally. Mind the outhouse.”

Nora braked, a little too hard. “Whoops,” she said, reddening as the
Neds
, who had sprung aside, both grinned. Ned, junior, wagged a finger at her; his father grabbed his hand and pulled it down.

“It’s okay,” Nora shouted. “I deserved that! All right,” she said to Liz, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. “We’re off.”

And she drove slowly but smoothly down the driveway.
Esmerelda-Ermentrude
coughed again once or twice, but otherwise did fine.

At the main road, Nora stopped. “Now what?”

“Go on, why don’t you? Let’s go down to, oh, Greely’s Hardware. That’s only about five miles, Nora.”

Nora bit her lower lip and smoothed her hands on her skirt. “Okay. If you don’t mind taking your life in your hands.”

“I don’t mind, but I’m not worried. You’ll do fine. Just keep your eyes open and…”

“…your wits about you,” Nora finished in unison with Liz, who had claimed earlier that that was all one needed to remember once one got the hang of driving; Liz laughed and said, “Right.”

“Well. Here goes.” Nora headed slowly out onto the main road, braking as a car full of teenagers passed her, yelling, “Get a horse.”

“Costs too much to feed!” Nora yelled back.

I love you,
Liz said silently.
Lord, help me, but I love you!

***

When they got back to the farm and Nora, flushed with victory, fairly flew out of the car, Ralph broke clumsily away from the
Neds
with whom he’d obviously been standing for a while, leaning white-knuckled on his walker. “What in tarnation do you think you were doing?” he roared.

“Driving the Ford,” Nora said calmly. “Someone had to test it. It runs fine,” she said to the
Neds
, shaking their hands, ignoring Ralph, who was still sputtering. “I can’t thank you enough. Let me just get my wallet.”

“No need,” said Ned, senior. “Like we said, Liz, here, is an old friend, and I owed her father a favor. He died before I could pay up, so I figure this is it, since it was Liz who asked us to do the job.”

“It was fun,” Ned, junior, said. “Lots of fun. I love old vehicles. And,” he added, smiling broadly at Nora, “if you ever have any trouble with her, just give me, I mean us, a call. I’ll be happy to come give her a once-over now and again, too. Or go on with those driving lessons. There’s some differences between old cars and new ones. Not that you’re used to either, much, I guess,” he added sheepishly, “but you did learn on Liz’s, and…”

“You’re right,” Nora said, looking amused. “But thanks to you and your dad, and Liz, I think I’ve just about grasped most of them by now.”

“Oh, there are a few obscure differences,” Ned, junior, said.

“Come along, you young scoundrel.” Ned, senior, cuffed his son affectionately. “Miss
Tillot
has better things to do than ride all over the countryside with the likes of you.”

“She certainly does,” Ralph said belligerently, glaring at Ned, junior. “Don’t you get any ideas, young man!”

“Crusty old bastard,” Liz heard Ned, junior, exclaim under his breath as his father pulled him away.

“Come along, Father.” Nora patted Ralph’s arm. “We’ve just got cold meat loaf and salad for supper. But Liz is staying, to help us celebrate. She’s brought a yummy-looking carrot cake and some ice cream.”

Liz ignored the poisonous look Ralph gave Nora. “And as it happens,” she said, “I’ve also got a nice bottle of red wine in the car. We can really celebrate!”