Nora by Constance C. Greene Page A

I’m going to go sit in the living room and think awhile, see what happens.”
    After a brief conference, Baba and Patsy joined me. We gave Baba Daddy’s big chair on account of her broken wrist and also because she was the oldest. The three of us sat there in the dark.
    â€œIf I brought somebody like Casey Fullum home to meet Daddy,” Patsy said, out of the blue, “well, I can see how Daddy might freak out.” Casey Fullum had greasy black hair slanted over his forehead and completely covering one eye, and a horrendous complexion. He wore black denim from head to toe and scruffy pointy-toed boots and smoked pot for breakfast. He was fifteen and still in the eighth grade.
    Patsy and I got to giggling, thinking of various people we’d bring home to Daddy that would blow his mind.
    â€œPlease, girls,” Baba said. “Quiet. Concentrate. We are thinking of your mother.” Baba’s voice came slow and dreamy in the dark. “We are sending her loving thoughts, telling her we miss her and hope she is at peace. Concentrate on that.”
    â€œThis is sort of like a seance,” Patsy said.
    â€œPatsy, I beg you, quiet,” Baba said.
    We all fell silent, thinking our own thoughts. Instead of thinking of Mother, I’m ashamed to say, I thought of bringing Chuck Whipple home to meet Daddy. He would be very polite and respectful. He would shake Daddy’s hand and maybe even call him “sir.” Although maybe they don’t call people “sir” in Iowa. They sure don’t in Connecticut. Chuck would most likely blush, but otherwise he’d be cool. And Daddy would like him as much as I did.
    Presently, we heard the garage door opening. It was Daddy. We stayed where we were.
    â€œAnybody home?” Daddy called.
    â€œWe’re in here, Sam,” Baba said.
    â€œWell.” Daddy stood in the doorway and looked in at us sitting there in the dark.
    â€œI thought I paid the electric bill, but I can see I was mistaken,” he said. “What gives?”
    â€œWe just like sitting in the dark,” I said.
    â€œSam, sit down, relax for a minute,” Baba said. “You must be tired after your long day.”
    â€œI am, somewhat,” Daddy said.
    Baba reached over and turned on the light. Patsy and I blinked.
    â€œSam,” Baba said, “Nora has something to tell you. I wish you’d listen and keep an open mind.”
    â€œMrs. Ames called and said she has to go to San Francisco tomorrow and then to Hong Kong, so your trip will have to be postponed,” I said, trying not to smile.
    Daddy scowled and said, “Is she calling back?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
    The telephone rang.
    â€œI’ll get it in the kitchen,” Daddy said. “Maybe that’s Wynne.”
    â€œIt’s either Roberta or The Tooth,” I said. And either way, I thought, it’s bound to be bad news.

Twenty
    Instead, it turned out to be Dee Dulin. She was bringing Mother’s portrait back on Friday, if that suited us. Her show was over and the gallery wanted everything out by the weekend.
    â€œI asked her to stay for dinner,” Daddy said. “Maybe you could call Glorious Grub and order one of their casseroles, Baba. That chicken thing is pretty good, as I recall. Now Nora, was there something else you wanted to tell me?”
    I decided not to tell Daddy about seeing Mother’s ghost. And hoped Patsy or Baba wouldn’t tell him. For now, anyway. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
    Maybe he never would be.
    â€œMrs. Ames called and said she had to go to San Francisco,” I said.
    He nodded. “You told me. And then she’s going on to Hong Kong. So our trip will have to be postponed. Does that make you happy?”
    I was so surprised at his question, I blurted, “Did you ask her to marry you yet?”
    â€œThat’s hardly an answer to my question,