See the end for author's notes.
Chapter 1. No More
Night was drawing near, and so were the closing hours for the public library. Nora checked her watch for the fourth time in the last two and a half minutes. It was nearly time to leave, 'Which means leaving a temporary sanctuary and not getting to pretend that this summer isn't going to happen.' Nora looked back down at the same page in her book that she had been on for nearly her for about ten minutes now, trying to shake the urge to check her watch once more. Instead, she replayed the conversation between her mother and her once more:
"It's going to be a longer trip—an island excursion, and then I'll spend several days on land and I think I ought to pack that one sundress with the blue flowers? What do you think—Nora?" When her Mom got excited, her train of thought was a little ambling, but then, Nora did the same thing too.
"Huh? Oh—uh. Right. Blue sundress. Totally, Mom." She hadn't been able to stop fiddling with the fringe on the couch pillows. Her mother noticed.
"Sweetie. It's only for a couple of months. This trip will be good for both of us, I think! You don't even have to leave the state."
Nora had wanted to tell her mother that going to Florida with Grammy and Pops was way better than spending the months with him—but then so was most things. At least, in her opinion. Which would most certainly not go over well with Sugie at all. For an instant, Nora thought of telling her mother exactly what she thought of her having to stay with her Uncle while her mother went on a vacation in the tropics.
But she had looked over at her mom—her red secretary glasses perched on her nose, sitting cross-legged on the worn rug with her laptop and information papers spread out around her in a circle. With her hair pulled up in a messy bun, because boyfriend #2 had liked ladies with long hair. And she was clutching a mug with thin fingers, her boney shoulders drawn up and her eyes tired.
Boyfriend #5 had liked thin chicks.
"This'll be good for you too Mom." Nora had managed a tight smile, and her mother's beam released some of the tightness in Nora's stomach.
That tightness had returned full force, though.
At first, she could blame it on finals and ignore the impeding approach of her summer time. Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could blame her nerves on now, unless she wanted to pretend to be overly stressed about the close times for her local library.
Back to the present, Nora notices the middle-aged librarian sparing her a glance, as if to ask, 'Are you leaving soon?' It never made sense to Nora why a public library would close earlier on a Friday but, then again, she didn't make the rules. Now isn't that the truth? She sighed loudly as she dog-eared her book and put it away into her backpack. She stood, bending this way and that in order to crack her back. Once satisfied, she saluted the librarian at the check-out desk.
"See you when I see you, Ms. Joanna," she called as she walked out.
"Walk safely," Ms. Joanna softly responded, locking the door as soon as Nora closed it behind her.
Welp, she thought, better head home and— the sound of a painfully familiar engine interrupted her thoughts and she turned slowly, mortified. No. Way.
Around the corner, somehow, came a massive van that seemed in danger of either dropping its bumper, blowing the gasket or both. The caustic colors seemed to glare in the setting sun, its horrid green and tacky orange a blot on the street. As if its sheer size wasn't enough, the loud paintjob only made it worse. People were giving it looks, and not the kind they saved for ogling the few Cadillac's in Coolsville.
As her mom put it, it was a mystery that machine even ran.
After a laborious attempt in which the vehicle was only asked to stop, there was the sound of the window being rolled down—actually by the physical action of turning a handle, because the newest thing in the Mystery Machine was maybe its driver, certainly not its crank-down window function.
"Norry! Hi kiddo!" said her Uncle Shaggy, either oblivious or uncaring to the looks.
Nora almost thought about schooling her features and hide how mortified she was. Almost. Though, let's face it, that would be mission impossible and her surname was nothing close to 'Bond.' Her eyes still as wide as saucers, Nora blurted out, "What are you doing here?" She cleared her throat and corrected herself, though she made no move to approach the vehicle, "I mean, mom was going to drop me off. After I packed. Later. Remember, Uncle Shaggy?"
"Like, don't worry kiddo." Shaggy shot her a warm smile, finally putting the van in park on the side of the road.
"Senility hasn't hit your old Uncle yet. Sugie's plane left a few hours ago, Norry. I thought she told you? C'mon and climb in—ooh, Scooby-Doo!" His tone turned corrective, if fondly exasperated. "Hang on buddy, you'll see her in a second."
Mom left already? It hurt. Bad, actually. But it was a lot easier to focus on her other emotions. So she rolled her eyes in annoyance. Yeah, maybe if had a phone I could have gotten a ca-wait, what?
"What?" She managed, feeling a little numb. Nora felt her throat go dry. "S-Scooby? You mean your dog? He's in there?"
Shaggy turned back to look at her. "Huh? Of course, you know old Scoob goes everywhere with me. Hop in kiddo, we're burning daylight." He teased. "Scoob's in the back, you get shotgun."
Nora was glued to her spot on the concrete. She crossed to the other side of the street if a dog on a leash was walking towards her. No way would she ride with one at her back trapped inside a death-trap known as her Uncle's van. Let alone one as big as Scooby-Doo, who seemed as clueless as he did large.
"I-I'm good to walk," she answered, swaying a little. "You know us kids these days. Always inside, never away from a screen longer than thirteen minutes a day..." she chuckled nervously.
Shaggy arched an eyebrow, giving her a strange look. Sure, it had been a while since they'd seen their baby niece, but she wasn't a baby anymore. 'Cept when she kinda talked like that, he sort of found himself wondering if he was imaging things, but her tone sounded...familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.
"It's like seven miles to my place, kiddo. C'mon, I made ya macaroni and cheese for dinner." He patted the side of the van encouragingly.
Nora fought a cringe each time Shaggy uttered the words 'like; and 'ya.' She did not, however, fight her cringing in the least when he called her that stupid name he had been calling her since before she could walk. "Great," she huffed under her breath, but had the decency to keep her next string of rant to herself. It's not like I wanted to see my house or room or anything that is important to me that I won't see for the next couple of months. You know, like my mother.
Letting anger mask her hurt, Nora pulled on the rusty passenger door as hard as she could to open it. She tossed in her knapsack and then heaved all four feet and eleven inches up, literally, onto the old leather upholstery. She could hear the choking of the air conditioner, and the engine as it chugged away with no small amount of complaining. She half expected the door to come right off and drop onto the ground—but the hinges, though unhealthy looking, seemed just as stubborn about holding as she did about even entering the piece of junk in the first place.
She had to admit though; the vans seats had miraculously found their way to the point where they were aged from use, but worn and soft almost to something resembling comfort.
"Aw, kiddo, I'm sorry. I know this isn't the big send off you wanted to give your mom, but don't worry. You'll see her soon enough." Shaggy gave her a sympathetic look, but it was covered as Scooby-Doo's head came swinging over the backseat, his giant black nose snuffling toward her skinny shoulder. There was a loud banging noise from the back of the bench, Scooby's thick tail was smashing against the side of the van he was so excited—and Nora wanted none of it.
Nora gasped and threw herself backwards—and almost out the open door, if not for Shaggy grabbing her arm before she fell out and broke her neck. She squirmed as her Uncle pulled her upright. "You said he would stay back there, didn't you?" Nora grimaced as she felt a wet nose poke her shoulder a second time, blowing hot doggy breath at her. She swallowed an instinctive gag.
"Ri Rora!" The Great Dane swung his head around, getting a friendly scratch from his human before he moved back closer to the smaller human, a big goofy grin on his face and his ears pricked.
"Huh? Like, he is kiddo." Shaggy said, pulling her back in place and waiting for her to close the door.
She swallowed hard, doing her best not to whine as she turned and used all her might to close the heavy door. She got it on the second try, also with a second save by her Uncle.
Once it was closed, Nora sat as close to the door as she could. Though that didn't stop Scooby from keeping close to her.
She did her best to ignore him. And by ignore him; she was engaging in a lot of internal screaming to keep from actually screaming.
Shaggy shoved the gear, the van ambling out onto the street with a combination of noises that old vehicles seem to make, but once it did the ride was surprisingly smoother than one would expect.
"You okay, Norry?" She was all pressed against the door like a little mouse. He couldn't imagine why, his driving wasn't that bad. His racing days were over.
Scooby nosed her shoulder gently, giving a little puppy whimper, hoping for pets. Where was the little girl that had ran headfirst into him because she was so excited she'd missed Dooby? (Scooby plus Doo to a little child apparently totaled into Dooby.) Where was the little girl with a missing tooth that had rode him around-he was Hi-Ho Silver, she was The Lone Ranger!
...Lone Ranger was right. She didn't seem to want anything to do with him.
It turns out that seven miles can feel like seventy in the right situations. Nora just tried to focus on keeping her breathing even. Her heart was not pounding, no way were her knuckles were white and she definitely wasn't digging her nails into her seat. Nora didn't look over at her Uncle when he asked his question because it would be mighty hard to ignore the existence of the Great Dane to her left if he was taking up her entire view.
"Kiddo?" Shaggy prompted, making Nora give a little half blink.
Keeping her eyes forward, Nora answered in a strained tone, "Yeah. Just tired."
Boy, did she sound it.
Shaggy heard her exhaustion. Scooby-Doo heard something else.
"Almost home, Norry." He said, hoping to soothe.
He was so focused on his driving he didn't notice that big head slowly withdraw from where it was resting. Scooby flopped across the back bench and moped quietly, wondering what he'd done wrong. Stretching his long body out, the gangly hound stayed where he was for the remainder of the trip, mulling things over in his mind.
After a moment, Nora dared to peek over her shoulder to see Scooby had given up on trying to get her attention. She exhaled a long breath before looking forward once more. Her shoulders were still tense but a little less so now.
As the van rocked back and forth over the curb and into the driveway, Nora squeaked and had to grab onto the handle above her in order not to fly down onto the floor.
"Sorry, kiddo. Here we are." Shaggy hit the brakes. "Think I better get Fred to take a look at the breaks again, eh Scoob?" said the beatnik conversationally as he slammed the van into something that resembled park.
"Reah."
"What's eatin' you, Scooby-Doo?"
But his dog just shrugged a little, itching his shoulder as a way of distraction.
Nora unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door, hopping down to the pavement onto her two feet. She ran up the walk to the front door of her and her mother's home. On the welcome mat she found a large-ish duffle bag and a suitcase packed and waiting for her. Along with a note that read:
Dear Nora and Shaggy:
Sorry you missed me, my flight was bumped up several hours than expected! Oh well! Nora, behave for your Uncle and Shaggy, don't let her give you too much steam!
~Love and Kisses, Mom and Sister
Nora sighed, folding the note into her pocket. She hauled the duffle bag over her shoulder and used her free arm to pick up her suitcase, then all but waddled her way back to the van, though at a purposefully slower pace.
Shaggy had gotten out, and was waiting for her with the back doors of the aged van wide open.
"Usually I drive the jeep if the gang's not coming along. But that thing can't hold enough, and it's never been the same since Scoob and I went down south."
"Rhosts!" Was Scooby's explanation.
"Ghosts and mud." Shaggy conceded, taking her heavy suitcase and putting it in the back.
Nora snorted, handing over her luggage. "I'm sure the ghosts are to blame for not keeping up on your automobile maintenance," she said a little meanly.
"Nah, but they sure did a number on the carburetor." Her Uncle said amicably, setting the duffle bag alongside the suitcase before closing the back doors and heading back toward the driver's seat.
"Ready to go?"
Noticing Nora seemed a lot calmer this time during the ride, Shaggy hit the radio.
"Turn it to whatever you want, Norry." He offered, letting his elbow dangle out the window as the van choked up a hill with a few distant clanks. This didn't seem to bother Shaggy or Scooby in the least.
Some country song was coming in and out through the speakers with much static in between notes. Not sure if it was due to the station or due to the state of the van and radio itself, Nora scrunched her and hit several buttons until settling on something that was a remix cover of something else. She shrugged. It was a tolerable choice. And minimal static.
Shaggy chuckled and apologized for the radio.
"Radio's fine, kiddo. We had it tuned in to Arizona though; I think the van's lookin' for a station that's a couple states away." He said, wondering why it felt like he was talking to an empty passenger seat.
"Uh, so, how's school kiddo?" He prompted quietly.
"It's over," she answered, less than pleasantly but honestly. "Finished my last exam today."
"That's good kiddo!" He tried, but the conversation just sort of...died? He was a little relieved when they turned on his street, and he instantly felt bad as the van came to a rocky standstill in the driveway of the old, yawning sideways Victorian. Wasn't Nora's fault she hadn't gotten to say good bye to her mom, with only a note and two packed bags to go room with her Uncles who she hadn't seen in almost two years.
He'd be a little sour too, come to think of it!
"C'mon Norry, we'll bring your stuff in, you can head up to the attic. We got ya all set up there, figured there'd be plenty of room, nice view too."
Nora opened her mouth to make some sarcastic comment about being put up into the attic when she thought it over. The attic meant the entire top level to herself and possibly some privacy. That was much welcomed. Her stomach made a grumbling gurgle and she had the grace to blush.
"Can I at unpack after dinner?" She asked.
"Course you can!" Shaggy smiled, giving the duffle bag to Scooby. The Great Dane took it cheerfully, having come to his own conclusions. Shaggy was so excited to have their niece here, and he was too. Nora would come around, the dog was sure.
In the meantime, the best he could do was be there for her.
Nora didn't much like the idea of the dog's slobber all over the straps to her bag but at least she didn't have to carry it up the stairs. And mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," to her Uncle as she slid out of the van and slipped on her knapsack. She followed them inside, several paces behind Scooby.
Getting her stuff up the stairs wasn't the issue—all of them fitting up the little stairway was. Still, they managed to make it work, Shaggy coming down first and leaving Scooby to drop the duffle bag at the foot of the little twin mattress.
"I just gotta warm up the grub, kiddo, okay?"
The dog finished, and swung his head over to Nora, lifting his head hopefully. His big brown eyes watched her, head tilting as his tail gave a pleasant wag.
Nora kept her eyes trained the dog as she nodded and answered Shaggy, "Okay." She looked at Scooby as if challenging him: "Do. NOT. Jump. On me."
Scooby stared at her. Usually it was the other way around, but he decided to let that go.
"Ro'kay, Rora." The dog said instead, sitting back on his rump to itch at his shoulder in juuust the right spot. His collar tinkled lightly as he did so, ears flip-flopping.
Dog he might be, at least he could listen and take a hint once in a while.
Nora walked quickly by him as he scratched himself.
She hopped down the pull-down ladder and down the stairs to the second floor. She left the swing down ladder hanging down from the ceiling for two reasons. One, she was going back up later anyway. And two, if it went all the way up, she would have to have Shaggy grab the pull string to let the stairs descended. She only admitted the first reason to herself, and decided to pause at the closest door to the attic. (Oh, and not to mention to dog still upstairs sniffing about in her things. Probably shouldn't lock into upstairs either. Though, he had short fur, maybe the he could stand the heat better than his long-furred cousins?)
She remembered this house pretty well, and she wondered why she wasn't in the guest bedroom this time. Turning the bronze knob, she pushed at the heavy wooden door. She forgot, in old houses like this the doors would swell in the summer heat. It opened rather soundlessly despite its weight, and she fumbled for the light switch on reflex.
Well. That explained a lot.
The rest of the house looked presentable, but it was obvious that over the years the guest bedroom had fallen to the lowly position of 'storage space.' She eyed the stacked cardboard boxes, overfilling with thick worn books. Written on almost all the boxes was: 'Velma's' in her Uncle's scrawling, messy handwriting in worn sharpie. Nora picked up a book off the top at random, unsurprised it was a mystery, but rather surprised to see how old it was, and that it was about a plantation. Other books were about seemingly random topics, peppers, a book on cat worship—weird—and history books on New Orleans. She replaced the book gently as possible, her attention caught by the dying sunlight glinting on glass.
Sitting beside those was something ever more interesting. At least, she had never seen a huge stand up mirror like that. That was odd, this mirror had never been here before. And considering how close it was sitting to the door, Nora suspected it was on its way out, maybe with the books to Velma's. This one wasn't labeled to any in particular, but Nora poked around the back and read that it belonged to a Colonel Jackson T. Pettigrew. Like the books, the mirror was dust free entirely, but the contents behind them sat in a moderately organized fashion. What was Uncle Shaggy doing with a mirror that had something like this on the back? She glanced around the room for answers, a small frown on her lips. A thin layer of dust coated a picture frame with an all-girl band—with fangs, Uncle Shaggy what on earth—and some quilts that boasted they were from Oakhaven's Finest. Nora's nose scrunched as she chalked it up to one of his many dumb, probably-fake-as-all-get out cases, and she quickly abandoned the mirror and the contents of the once-livable bedroom.
Just another sign of those silly ghost-hunts proving more important than the family he left in Coolsville.
Her stomach grumbled more as the scent of dinner wafted its way from the oven. If nothing else, she missed her Uncle's cooking, she would give him that. But the recent inspection of that bedroom had left her feeling a little sour. She walked down the hall and down the stairs that lead to the living room. She turned left once on the first floor and went straight to the kitchen. She had forgotten that her Uncle kept his house so...managed. Clean, save for maybe a bit of dusting, and not cluttered or anything.
Upon entering the kitchen, Nora found that Shaggy had the food out and ready to go as fast as the old stove could work it, and in the meantime he got out plates and silverware, humming to himself as Scooby came barreling around the corner from the living room.
"Roy boy, roy boy!"
"I made double, Scoob old pal! For once, we might have some leftovers." He giggled, "We'll let the niece of honor help herself first. Go ahead, kiddo."
Not having to be told twice, Nora sat down at the table and piled the food high on her plate and began eating before her Uncle even started to fight Scooby for the serving spoon. She loved food and it could be difficult to get her attention when she was trying to savor the flavors of an especially delicious meal. Though when she broke away from her food to down some milk, she saw Scooby sitting across from her at the table. She froze and swallowed hard, which hurt a little because she definitely could have chewed that last mouthful a little more thoroughly.
"What is he doing at the table?"
Dogs were supposed to eat from bowls on the floors in the back corner of the kitchen, right?
"What's what doing at the—" Shaggy's mouth caught up with his eyes, his gaze following the point of his niece's fork to his best friend who was chowing away at the table. She was in his spot but he wasn't about to make waves when there was mac and cheese to eat, and hopefully ice cream for dessert.
"Oh—Scoob? Well, where's he supposed to eat, Norry?" Shaggy chuckled a little, going back to his meal.
If teenagers were known to be rational people then Nora probably would have been able to step back and tell herself to calm down; that this really wasn't worth at that much fussing. But as it were, fourteen year olds were not particularly rational. In fact, they could be terribly irrational. Nora grew furious. The grip on her fork tightened as she tried to stop herself from glaring but only just.
"He's. A dog. Dogs eat from bowls on the floor."
Well, that got Scooby's attention. He lifted his head a bit, collar jingling, and went 'Rog? Where?' curiously as Shaggy blinked a little at her retort. He even lowered his fork, something in her tone catching him off guard.
"Scooby's never done that, kiddo, you know that." He tried joking, giving her a little smile.
"Ri am?" came Scooby's clueless answer as he lapped down his milk. Their baby niece was here less than three hours and she was speaking in riddles-odd!
Still watching her, noting how tense her shoulders were, Shaggy pressed, "Norry, hold on a sec. What's wrong with Scoob sittin' at the table, dog or not?"
It was probably her fear of dogs, her sadness after feeling she'd been left behind and a bit of confusion that prevented her from corralling her temper into something manageable. Instead, Nora dropped her fork on her plate. "Nothing. I'm not hungry. Can I be excused?" She asked as she got up from her seat anyway.
Shaggy almost commented on the fact there was hardly a dent in the mound of cheesy goodness congealing on her plate. He thought better of it, for whatever reason.
"Ro dessert?" Came Scooby's incredulous question.
"Like yeah!" Shaggy piped up. "I made peach cobbler—your favorite!"
At least, it had been when she was little.
Shaggy was just starting to get the inkling; things were no longer like they had been when Nora was little.
Avoiding looking at Scooby any more than she had to, Nora shook her head. "No thank you," she said, her tone still tense, "I grew out of that. I don't like that anymore." And with that, she turned and walked out of the room and headed for the stairs.
"Like..." But she was already gone, and he finished with a soft, "Okay."
When she was out of sight, his boney shoulders dropped a little.
A keen eye noticed this, and Scooby gave him a worried look, complete with worried whine.
"It's okay Scoob-o. Let's eat up, yeah?"
Scooby did not fail to observe that even as his human said this, Shaggy's fork did little more than push the remaining noodles around in their cheesy sauce.
Nora kept herself from stomping her feet up the stairs, but only just. Shutting the door to the attic firmly behind her, she let her shoulders sag, climbing the last of the steps to her temporary room.
This is going to be such a long summer, she thought to herself moodily as she began to pace. I didn't want to come here! I get why mom wanted to go find a potential husband but why do I have to suffer? She had asked her mother—multiple times—if she could had gone down to Florida to live with her grandparents but the answer had been no. I would have so preferred to go live with Grammy and Pops for the season than with the beatnik and his dumb dog...
Nora gave a small yelp as she stumbled over her suitcase. Making an annoyed sound, she switched on her bedside light. Nora wanted to just curl up and drop onto the bed that wasn't hers when something caught her eye. An old, brown stuffed dog toy was waiting for her on the bed on top of her pillow. Nora froze.
My…old stuffy... Nora picked up the toy, Uncle Shaggy must have...I didn't see it when we were up her before…..her heart dropped and she whined.
There goes an old saying that Shaggy lived by. Things always get worse before they get better.
And things were hardly close to better. Which meant when the phone starting ringing, he shouldn't have been so surprised that it was work bad news.
"Like-really? The whole wall? Ceiling now too, huh? ...Yeah, yeah. No, I understand."
Scooby-Doo, who was just starting to pick up the dishes, cocked an ear curiously. Shaggy liked his job at the restaurant, downright loved it in fact. Much better than that temporary gig they worked at the airport. It was rare to see him look so gloomy while talking to his manager. Scooby abandoned his washing in favor of walking over to Shaggy, nails clicking gently on the old wood floor.
"It's no problem, boss, like really! The restaurant comes first—if she needs a break like, we do too." Shaggy sounded so earnest, but Scooby couldn't help but wonder if his owner was trying to convince the person on the phone or himself. Lying his head on his paws, Scooby waited quietly, his lopsided ears pricked.
"Okay. Yeah...see ya in October then. Bye."
"Raggy?"
"Zoinks, this is just great. When it rains it pours, old pal." Shaggy made it all of four steps before he collapsed back into his chair at the table, he stuck an elbow on the surface. Letting his forehead rest in a palm, he rubbed at his stubby goatee tiredly, like he always did when he was nervous and thinking.
"What's rhong?" came the worried mutter from his best friend. Glancing down at the giant hound now standing by his left knee, he laid his free hand on that head and rubbed without really thinking about it. Scooby leaned right into the touch, but big brown eyes bored up at Shaggy with intensity so firm it would unnerve a person who wasn't so used to it.
"The asbestos in the restaurant—it wasn't just in a side wall like we thought. It was in the whole ceiling buddy. What I thought was going to be a couple weeks vacation just turned into several months vacation. And they like, can't pay me of course, 'cause I ain't working."
"Roh." Whimpered the big dog sympathetically. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch of his owner and let him simply pet him a moment before Shaggy's hand fell away, and Scooby opened his eyes.
'S'not Mr. Kellen's fault, or nothin'. But jinkies we need the money, Scoob."
He and Scooby both turned to look at the stairs they had least seen their guest go up.
"…and we just got another mouth to feed."
It took her several false-starts and practiced apologies before Nora worked up the courage to tip-toe back down stairs. She peeked her head around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. She couldn't see him from this angle but she heard the soft clattering of dishes and running water coming from the kitchen. She sighed softly.
He doesn't want to see me after acting like a piss-baby, she thought to herself, beginning to turn on her toes to escape back upstairs. No, you at least owe him this. And the sooner, the better. If he yells, you deserve it, Nora Elaine.
Nora took a deep breath before walking into the kitchen doorway and still waited a few seconds before making her presence known by clearing her throat. Tugging on her hair, there she stood, all four something feet of her with no shoes and a frazzled braid in her fingers.
"H-hey, Uncle Shaggy?" With each syllable, her tugs became a touch harder.
Shaggy turned his head, throwing a quick glance over his left shoulder as he pushed the hot water off and shook his hands a few times. His lips stretched into that familiar lopsided smile.
"What's up kiddo?" He asked as he grabbed a towel. Was it her imagination, or did that smile take a minute to reach his eyes? Was he tired? Of her, probably. And then of course, just as Nora expected the worst, her Uncle turned around and from left field went sympathetically,
"Want something else to eat, huh? Can't sleep on an empty stomach, you know."
I think it would have been easier if he just yelled at me... she thought miserably. The peach cobbler was in the center of the table, just waiting for someone to sample it. Nora made a note of it and was probably already planning on sneaking a piece—or three—in the middle of the night when Shaggy and Scooby were long asleep.
"I, no, thank you," she declined, politely this time. "I just...never thanked you for dinner. It was good," she said, her tone much smaller than the daring one she used at the table less than forty-five minutes ago. The mumble of her voice just made the gangly man's expression more affectionate and worried, complete with a little head tilt Scooby would be proud of.
Shaggy was quiet and still for all of three seconds before his face split into a bigger grin.
"Well you're welcome kiddo! I'm glad ya liked it, the recipes from your grandma after all." He said, stepping over his buddy who was stretched out happily on the rug in front of the fridge. As he passed, Scoob's tail thumped halfheartedly, since he was almost asleep.
Oh, it definitely would be better if he yelled at me. Now, it wasn't that Nora was used to yelling. Sugie was a great mom, especially considering their rough start. Having had Nora when she was the tender age of seventeen and with no support from Nora's "father," things had been tight, but never bad, really. Sugie was good with Nora, even if she did struggle sometimes and she was tired more than she was rested. This isn't to suggest that neither daughter nor mother were without her faults. But they stuck close. And Nora knew when she overstepped her boundaries and needed to be reprimanded. And her mother was not shy about taking a tone right back at her. So why isn't Uncle Shaggy mad?
When he stepped toward her, Nora stepped back. She tried to smile but she probably looked bashful at best, "Um, yeah. I remember last time she visited she made it. It's one of my favorites."
"Gee, that musta been a few years ago. They haven't been up in a while if I can recall correctly." The beatnik mused as he headed into the hallway to turn off the porch light and lock the door before he forgot.
"Like, jinkies! That reminds me, any requests for tomorrow's dinner Norry?" He asked warmly as he headed back to rescue the silverware that had been lurking at the bottom of the now drained sink.
"I, erm...no. I eat pretty much anything," she said. She watched, trying to ignore the Great Dane sprawled on the floor in the kitchen. He was behaving, so that was something, she supposed.
Shaggy smiled at the comment about her eating anything, but didn't say a word to broach that subject, old ghosts. For once the kind he was alright with—but nevertheless, still ghosts he'd avoid. She'd talk to him when he was ready. Norry sure sounded and looked sorry enough, there was no need to rub salt in the wound. She was a good kid.
"You sure?" Shaggy pressed in such a casual way it hardly seemed pressing at all. How did he do that?
"I dunno. If you don't mind, we can eat at your restaurant?" She suggested lamely.
"Oh—uh, we kinda can't eat at the restaurant right now, I'm sorry Norry. The whole joints been closed down for a bit for asbestos." He was gonna be straight with her, but she was a kid and this was her summer, and she didn't need to spend it worrying or nothing.
"Oh...wait, since when? What does that mean for your job?" It was automatic, the way Nora started to think about what hours she could squeeze in at the barn and asking if she could work more. There had been times when she helped her mother with some bills, sliding a few bucks here and there into her purse when she could. She figured out Sugie's passwords and accounts online and sometimes paid small portions of bills when she could. She couldn't do much but it was nice to know she could help in small ways. The barn paid her little, but it was under-the-table and it was still something.
"Like it means until October I just haveta pick up another job. I knew I was gonna be off for about two weeks—so I've got plenty of time to start sniffing around, right Scoob?"
"Right!" said Scooby as he scratched at his shoulder.
As goofy as he was, he eyed her lovingly but firmly and put his hands on his hips. "And don't you worry about a thing, Norry, okay? This is your summer—you should have fun!"
"I-" Nora mentally knocked herself down to a piece of peach cobbler, no end-crusts and water instead of milk. "—okay," she said with a tight smile.
"Good." said her Uncle with a satisfied nod and a grin of his own. He finished dropping utensils into the dryer and wiped his hands on a towel.
Nora bit her lip. While he had his back turned, Nora darted forward and wrapped her arms around her Uncle tightly. He blinked, arms held out uselessly as they held a plate that had been ready for the cabinet, but there she stood, her tiny body pressed against his for a flash. She only hugged him for a second or two before letting go and dashing out of the kitchen, across the living room and up the stairs (and nearly tripping over Scooby and the hall rug in the process.)
She called a hasty, "G'night!" as she ran all the up to her room and didn't stop for him to respond.
In an instant, she was gone.
Shaggy stood there stunned for several moments this time, blinking out over the front lawn through the little kitchen window.
By the time he had regained his senses, he heard the little attic door slip shut with a soft clang up on the second floor.
"Huh." He said, leaning out the kitchen door to smile warmly down at Scooby, who wagged his tail hopefully, starting to get the picture himself.
"Well whaddya know."
Nora let out a squeak as she sat, curled up in her borrowed bed in the attic. Her face was pressed into the little dog stuffy that she was currently holding onto tightly. That was so lame! She chided herself, That's the kind of stupid, cheesy stuff that's from after-school specials re-runs from the nineties! Nora flushed red from her embarrassment. She wanted to kick herself but she wasn't that great at being physically affectionate with people that weren't her mother. Still, I think he needed it...and maybe me, too...
Once she finally finished getting worked up about hugging her Uncle, she flopped back on her bed, toy still held close. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It wasn't terribly late. And she really wanted a piece of peach cobbler. But no way was she going to go back downstairs and confront her Uncle. He might want a real hug this time. Nora might have understood where she was wrong at dinner but that didn't mean she wanted her Uncle thinking she was up for a hug-fest.
"I guess I can kill time putting away my clothes," she muttered to herself. After seeing the state of the rest of the house, Nora was prepared to use the shirt she was currently wearing as a dust rag. That's when she first realized that all the surfaces in her attic room were clear of dust and dirt.
"He...cleaned up here. Everything. There isn't even any dust," she observed, running fingertips over the smooth, clean wood of the dresser. It was unexpected but no less appreciated.
And hauled her duffle bag onto her bed and unzipped it to begin.
It was just after midnight when Nora tip-toed her way downstairs yet again that night. Crickets were chirping, making hopeful passes in the night that punctured the soft night sky outside. A cool breeze entered the hallway and the old kitchen. Her Uncle was snoring away when she passed his room, the door open a crack. Noting that she could also hear Scooby snoring, she closed the door leading into Shaggy's room as silently as she could manage. If Scooby came up to her in the dark, she would not be able to stop the scream, or the throwing of any plates and/or furniture.
Her mother and her lived in a track—it was no city life, but it was much less rural than the old homestead that leaned lazily on Shaggy's property. Nora had forgotten what it was like here, especially at night. To her skittish Uncle and his cowardly mutt, maybe nighttime bothered them. but not her, and certainly not here. Not that she'd ever admit that openly. But she had forgotten how charming the cozy kitchen was when only the light above the stove was on. The room was bathed in a warm amber and the room was easy to navigate. Especially with the moon so close to being full outside, peeking shyly through the window to cast four boxes of light that spread over the table and the old linoleum. Nora was glad her Uncle didn't enforce socks—Boyfriend #4 had tried to do it once, and after she faked a fall down the wooden stairs of her house, her mom had put an end to that real fast. Uninhibited by slippery fabric on even slippier floors, her rendezvous to the kitchen went entirely smoothly, and for that she was grateful.
Upon entering the kitchen, Nora could see the dessert was still on the table by virtue of the light over the stove. She also realized that there was another dish. A plate was on the table with a rather large piece of the cobbler and a note. Bringing it to the light from a better look, she found, in Shaggy's writing,
For the girl who eats everything-just like me!'
Complete with a crudely little drawn heart. Nora groaned, folding the paper up and slipping it into her pocket. When she went to pour some water, hoping to avoid the noise of the tap, she discovered a tall glass of milk, complete with swirly straw. It was too full to be considered a left over, and it was most certainly for her. Taking her more than modest meal up to her room, Nora ate every bit of her peach cobbler.
And she enjoyed her slice of humble pie, too.
Honey: She heaved a sigh and wiped her eye….lots of love and tears has gone into this already. Mostly tears. And some laughter. And angry wine drinking.
Charlie: The odd thing about this story is, is that we've written a good chunk of what happens around, oh, say chapter 4 or 5 or so. Which is great for chapters 4 and 5. Not so great for the other 3 that come before it, who were beginning to feel left out. Now we got that ball rolling! Feedback is never required, but always appreciated.