It was another beautiful day without a trace of rain.
The perfect day to replace the door on number 9, Norman thought.
He heard a yawn behind him, and tentative footfalls. Ah! His houseguest. His extended houseguest, that is. The sweet, lovely young Mary Samuels. Norman Bates turned around with a childlike smile on his face and greeted the girl.
"Hi, Mary," he said cheerfully. "Sleep well?"
Mary yawned again and stretched. She had her purse slung over one shoulder and was dressed to go out.
"Yeah," she answered sleepily. "Oh, it's so nice having a day off! How many days have I worked straight through? That damn place is gonna kill me."
The smile froze on Norman's face. Mary didn't seem to realize she had said anything wrong…
Because she hadn't. It was a joke. It was just a joke.
Just a joke. The diner didn't kill people.
And neither did he, anymore.
So he smiled again.
"Want some breakfast?" he asked. "Something to drink?"
"Sure, that would be good," she said. She didn't sit down, but she agreed to it. So Norman began puttering around the kitchen, trying to decide something they could both enjoy.
"Sleep well?" he asked again. "It was cold in here last night, don't you think?"
"No, it was alright," she replied. "I wasn't cold at all."
He nodded.
"You know, Mary..." he said hesitantly, "I'm, maybe, a month or two from having the hotel fixed up enough to open it back up."
He didn't realize he was about to tell her this until it was already said. But now he had told her. It was out in the open. He blushed a little. She always made him feel sheepish. But it was a nice feeling. A really lovely feeling.
"No kidding? You're that close, huh?" Mary asked. She reached across the table and grabbed the carton of milk.
"Oh, let me get you a glass, Mary!" Norman began to stand up, but Mary waved him away.
"I'm fine. That's so exciting, Norman, I can't believe you're almost done. It'll be just like old times, won't it?"
Norman froze, and his eyes seemed to burn through the girl as she realized what she had said.
Mary cringed. She had done it again. Of course, she had meant to say it. She had meant to say exactly that, in exactly that way. It was what her mother would have said.
"You're going to need to be subtle about it, darling," Lila had said in a scolding way. A way that suggested that subtlety was beyond her daughter's meager intelligence. "You're his friend. You're looking out for him. When he snaps… and he will snap, darling. And when he does, you'll be blameless and innocent as fallen snow."
Subtlety. An off-handed remark. Something said by millions of people every day- but the look on his face. Oh, god, how close that look came to breaking her resolve. She could have cried. She could have just cried, he looked so pathetic for a moment.
It was deathly silent, except for the over-boiling teapot on the stove. Tea. Mary's tea. Something she had insisted upon when they'd gone grocery shopping. She just loved tea.
Norman had had the same look on his face then. Little things. All these little things that roll off the tongue so easily.
Well, she should have said something now, to break the tension, to fix the situation, to do something-
"Well, not... not just like old times," Norman finally managed to say, trying to make a joke out of it. Oh god.
She said nothing.
Norman got back to business almost immediately, to his credit. He got the teapot off the burner, pulled out Mary's favorite mug (it had been his mother's favorite too, which was, of course, just a coincidence) and began making her tea. Mary kept a close eye on him.
Norman resumed talking as he handed her her cup.
"But, listen, Mary, what I was thinking was... I'm gonna need someone to help me manage the motel when I open back up."
Oh… oh no.
Norman spoke quickly. "It would be very easy work, much easier than the diner. No dishes to break. You'd just have to sit behind a desk. You could watch television all day. It would be a short commute! And… well. You know, we're, we don't get very much business. Especially now, now that..."
Now that you ran Toomey off on a rail. And killed him. At least that's what the papers are going to say.
Mary had to say something. She spoke as kindly as she could, but her voice cracked and it all sounded feeble.
"Oh, Norman, I don't know. I mean… I don't mind the diner. Really. Anyway, you should find someone who… who knows what they're doing."
Norman laughed a little.
"Oh, shoot, I could teach you everything you need to know in a single afternoon. Of course, I couldn't pay you much at the beginning-"
Thank GOD, an out.
"But of course your room and board would be covered."
Mary hemmed and hawed for a moment, pretending to really consider it.
"Gee, Norman... that's really nice of you. I don't want to hurt your feelings but, I guess… the pay is really what I'm thinking of. I still owe Scott half of last month's rent and the phone bill. And... And I'd like to save up for my own place one day, you know?"
That old disappointed, hurt puppy look.
"Oh, sure, sure. Sure, that would be nice, wouldn't it? Maybe get a nice place in town."
"Yeah. I mean, I, I can't..." she trailed off.
I can't stay here forever. One way or another, I'll have to go soon.
"No, no, I understand, Mary. You're young, you want to... and of course, you've got the right to live your own life."
She nodded, smiling weakly.
So do you. God, so do you. I should go. I should just go right now. Pack my suitcase. Oh, god, Norman, stop LOOKING at me like that-
"Well, listen… I'd… I'd be willing to take a pay cut to make it worth your while. How… how much do you make at the diner? I'll match it. And, of course, the free room and board," he repeated needlessly.
He wasn't ready to give up, clearly. He wanted her to stay with him. He wanted her to be with him, because he wanted to be with her.
Mary turned her back to him-
"Never turn your back on him, Mary!" Lila had cried. "No matter what you have to do, no matter how well you think you're getting along with him! Don't ever do that, or you're taking your life in your hands."
-And brought out the loaf of bread to make toast. Norman was making this so hard. It irritated the hell out of her.
What do you think it's gonna be, Norman? She thought angrily. I'll marry you? Mr. and Mrs. Norman Bates, running the motel together? Sitting on our rocking chairs? Scaring the hell out of everybody for miles around? Mr. Toomey was an asshole but he had a point. This motel is good for one thing and one thing only: Fucking and taking drugs. And you sure put a stop to that in a hurry. Who in their right mind would ever come here now? You say you're going to take a pay cut? Out of what pay, Norman?
She should have said something. She should have alluded to his insanity. Her mother would be screaming at her, this instant, to take the opportunity.
"Look at the paper, Mary! Texas man convicted in the murder of 16 year old Nancy Crane! I bet he used a knife, don't you? Guys like that always use a knife. Killers. Psychos.
She was silent for too long, and she could hear him sighing behind her.
"Well, will you at least think about it?" Norman was asking. Not asking. Pleading.
"Sure," she sighed. "Sure, Norman. But no promises."
This seemed to satisfy him, and she was relieved. But she quickly realized that she had to get out for awhile, get back to her mother for some focus and direction.
Everything was getting so hard.
"Anyway, I'm going out," she said, getting up. She changed her mind about the toast.
"W-won't you even have any breakfast?" Norman asked.
"No, I'll get something in town," Mary sighed, glancing behind her at the abandoned teacup.
Norman was hastily standing up to walk her to the door.
Oh, god, Norman, just let me go already. If I have to look at you any longer, I'M going to lose MY mind.