Page 39 of Nora Goes Off Script
I grab my phone and Kate stops me. “Wait. Let’s rehearse before you go off half-cocked.”
“I’m just texting Weezie,” I say. But my heart is beating so fast that I can’t type. “You do it.” I hand her my phone and dictate: “Hey, Weezie! Hope you’re good! Thanks for the cash, but that was way too much. I was only charging him for the first seven days, so I’ll have the rest dropped back to you. Please send address? Thanks!”
Kate shows me the text to review. “That’s way too many exclamation points. I look like a maniac.” She deletes one, then two, and finally we think we’ve struck the right mood and she sends.
Immediately typing bubbles appear.Oh, wow. I must have misunderstood his text. Okay, thanks! I’m shacked up at his place for I don’t know how long.Next text is his address, a penthouse on Sixty-Fifth Street.
“Well done. She’s matched you in exclamation points. Now we need to get your shit together.” Kate urges me toward the shower and goes out to inspect the tea house. She returns with two empty wineglasses and all of his bedding. I come downstairs towel drying my hair and find her fondling his sheets.
“So what did you want me to do with these? Any chance I can keep them?”
“Take them directly to your car.”
One time in high school my boyfriend dumped me andmy best friend Ellen and I ate ice cream until we were sick. I made out with this guy freshman year in college, and when he never called me, my roommate and I got drunk. As I look at Kate now, I can’t think of any self-destructive pastime that will make me feel better. I’m aware that I am going to need all of my reserves to get through this.
“What are you going to tell the kids?”
“They know.” As I say it, I realize that it’s true. They haven’t mentioned his name in days. They’re careful around me, overly thoughtful. Wasn’t I the one who was supposed to be protecting them from another broken heart? “Maybe they just assumed. It’s Ben all over again.”
•••
On Wednesday morningI drop the kids at school, force myself to run, and then somehow find myself in the car headed south on I-95 toward the city. My intention is benign; I need to return the money that does not belong to me. And in returning that money, I will set off a chain of events wherein Weezie as his proxy will have to inform him that the money has been returned, triggering the memory of me in Leo’s mind. He will have no choice but to stop what he is doing and call me. Nora, he’ll say, I miss you so much, and your returning this money shows me just what a good and true person you are. I’ll be on the next flight...
Oh, also, I’ve gone completely insane. My second reason for delivering this money is that I definitely need a change of scenery. And by “change of scenery” I mean I need to see where he lives. Somehow this will help, I tell myself, comingto see his city life so that I can release him to it. Yes, this is a great idea.
I get off the FDR on Sixty-Third Street and head west. I find a parking garage on Sixty-Fifth and Lexington Avenue and decide to stop there so I can enter his neighborhood on foot. As I walk west the streets become less congested, though it always feels like it’s garbage day in Manhattan. I cross Park Avenue and look both ways, up and down the median. They’ve planted tulips in red and yellow, and I stop to take a photo.
Women pass me in heels I could never stand in. I look down at my peasant top, jeans, and sandals and think,When did I turn into Carole King?His apartment is between Madison and Fifth Avenues. The town houses that line both sides of the street are exquisite brick and limestone buildings, and I have a momentary feeling that I am trespassing. His is a prewar doorman building in the middle of the block. I loiter and wonder not for the first time how I got here.
I’m walking into the building through the narrow, gilded door and the doorman stands to greet me. “May I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes, I have something for Leo. Vance.” I indicate the envelope but don’t offer it to him. I realize that I’m not ready to leave. “Is Weezie here?”
“I believe so. May I have your name?”
“Nora. Nora Hamilton.” He dials and I am full of regret. I don’t have anything to say to Weezie, and there’s no reason for her to know I drove ninety minutes to see Leo’s apartment.
“She says to go right up. Just pressPHin the elevator on the left.”
I’m grateful it’s not one of those elevators where the doorman has to ride with you to operate the thing. I pressPHand take advantage of the mirrored wall and long ride to check my teeth and my overall bearing. Teeth are fine, but I’ve lost weight in just three days, and I look really tired.
The door opens into a small foyer with a marble table and an umbrella stand. There’s only one door to knock on and it’s already open. “Nora! This is so fun! What are you doing here?” Weezie is in her pajamas and has a bagel in her hand. “Come in. Come in.”
“I’m really sorry to drop in like this, but I had an appointment in the city so I thought I’d drop off the money in person.” Everything is marble and cream. Couches and chairs are arranged so that conversations won’t last more than twenty minutes. There is no place to get cozy. I scan the space for a personal photograph. This place belongs to no one.
“What kind of appointment?” she’s asking me.
“Hair,” I say too quickly and now she’s looking at mine, which has certainly not just stepped out of the salon. “I mean I’m going to an appointment. Gotta do something about this hair, right?”
“I think you look great. Kinda Carole King.” Oh my God. “It must feel so good to have your house back to yourself, especially after a surprise houseguest.” Weezie rolls her eyes and motions me into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” I say, because I want to see his coffee mugs. Shehands me a white mug that’s straight out of a hotel restaurant. “This place is really stark. Does Leo spend a lot of time here?”
“Ha. He hates it too. Naomi’s decorator did the whole thing while they were in Saint Bart’s in January. He said ‘surprise me!’ and she really did. Naomi loved it but Leo kept saying he didn’t know where to sit. Still doesn’t.”
“I don’t understand,” is all I can say.
“He just didn’t grow up like this; he likes things a little more homey.”
