The next day…
It's truly amazing what utter terror can do to a girl. I had lain awake all night, dreading my meeting with Logan. I had no clue as to what he wanted, and frankly I didn't care. The news of Bradley's death just a few weeks earlier had nearly caused me to pack up and leave. I scanned the newspapers and internet daily out of fear that I would miss some clue as to what would happen to me.
I couldn't tell Joanne of my fears, because she had no idea who I was. Two years living in the same house and she hardly knew me. Oh she knew I had no family, but she didn't know why. It also didn't take her long to realize I didn't technically belong in the States. Whenever she and the girls traveled to Canada to visit her ex husband Andy's mother, I stayed behind. If they went on vacation out of country, I also stayed home. I knew I could leave the country easily enough, but returning…that would be another experience entirely.
No. I was on my own. My alarm went off at six thirty and I stared blankly at my untouched bed. I walked into my attached bath and started my morning routine, trying to relax. If I was in real trouble, it wouldn't be Logan coming here. It would be Creed, so I should be grateful.
After my shower I slipped into a yellow pencil skirt and pulled white sweater over my head. I would wait for my hair to dry, so I headed upstairs from my basement bedroom to prepare breakfast. Just as I finished brewing a fresh pot of coffee Joanne came down the stairs still in her pajamas, her long brown hair piled on top of her head.
"Mmm, coffee coffee coffee!" she exclaimed excitedly, pouring herself a cup. "Thanks Nora."
"No problem Jo," I answered. I plastered a fake smile onto my face as I started breakfast.
"Oh my God, aren't you dying? It's already eighty degrees out," she exclaimed. She was referring to my sweater, already clinging to my body in the morning heat. I rolled my eyes.
"It's not too bad…honest," I replied.
Lie.
"Anyway, I like the heat," I added with a shrug.
Lie.
Jo raised her eyebrows. "Sweetie, I know you're self conscience, but I promise you it is not nearly as bad as you think it is." Yes it was. It was hideous and everyone who saw it, knew it. I had to look had it when I showered or dressed, but I ignored it whenever humanly possible.
"Thanks, Jo…but I'm fine. If it gets too hot, I'll change," I lied.
Jo sighed and replied, "No you won't. I have never once seen you wear a t-shirt and I highly doubt I ever will." I smiled and nodded. "But I've seen that scar, Nora, and I've seen worse…whatever happened…it's over. You can't keep living in the past." She had crossed the line and was getting to close to the P word. I quickly changed the subject.
"So what's the plan for today?" In reality, I knew the plan. It was the same every second Saturday of the month.
She sighed once more before finally giving in to the end of our previous conversation. "The usual. The girls and I will head out around ten. We'll get to Winnipeg around six. And we'll come back Tuesday night same time," she explained between sips from her coffee mug. "You sure you won't join us this time. Alice would be thrilled to finally meet you." I stayed silent as I smiled down at the eggs sizzling in the pan. I didn't have to say anything, the invitation was tradition at this point, and she knew I wouldn't go with. Though I must admit, it would have been nice.
"How much longer til breakfast? Should I drag the little angels out of bed?" she laughed.
"Nah, I'll just set the table and I'll get them," I answered. "Oh and here's today's paper, Twins won."
"Oh fantastic! That Mauer sure is a looker, isn't he?" I looked over at her smile as I finished placing the silverware.
"Jo! He's a few years older than me, you cradle robber," I teased.
"Oh shut up! I'm not even thirty yet," she cried, a feigned look of upset on her face. It was true. She had had Lydia when she was only sixteen, so she was rather young compared to the other mothers in the neighborhood. "Hey I'll put the food out, while you get the girls."
I began heading upstairs when I heard a sigh. "Nora, what's wrong?" Jo asked seriously.
Shit, I thought. How does she know everything?
"What're you talking about?" I asked innocently, reentering the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open and Jo was staring at me pointedly.
"Three pies, Nora?" she asked in a concerned manner. "Did you sleep at all?" I sighed and shook my head.
"Sorry, Jo," I answered softly.
"It's fine, just tell me what's wrong," she said, walking over to me. She knew me well. The more upset or stressed I was, the more I baked. Two weeks ago, after reading about Bradley's death, I made two pans of brownies, three batches of chocolate chip cookies, one cherry pie, and two strawberry rhubarb pies. Hey, we all have our coping mechanisms, right?