Nora Goes Off Script

by Annabel Monaghan

I distinctly remember hearing Ben use the word “shed” when we walked into it, and I ignored him the way you do when you’re trying to stay married.

At the corner of arrogance and cluelessness, you find the worst kind of person.

“Have you ever felt like you’re disappearing?” he asks. “Like you’re sure one day you’re going to wake up and find that the truest parts of yourself have been replaced by someone else’s plans?” Um, I just wrote a movie about it. I believe you read the script?

How many times did I wake up next to Ben and wonder, Where did I go? His face would reflect either indifference or mild distaste, and I’d try to remember back when I was a person who deserved to be loved. I didn’t know what Ben was looking at, but it wasn’t me. I was gone.

“Are you in love with Naomi Sanchez?” Bernadette wants to know. “Bernie!” I scold her. “That’s none of our business.” Leo laughs. “She’s beautiful. But between you and me, she’s kinda mean.” “The beautiful ones always are,” says Bernadette, which makes all of us laugh.

Arthur and I sit on the couch in the sunroom, sharing a script to run the lines one more time before I make him do it by memory. He’s nervous in the way you are when you are anticipating your own failure, and he’s decided that this failure is my fault. If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother.

Characters like Fagin get to the core of what it means to be a human being—we are both light and dark.”

Newton must have been thinking of twentysomethings in long-term relationships with hard-to-secure wedding venues when he decided that objects in motion tend to stay in motion.

I think our whole marriage was about me trying to make him glad he picked me.

Leo studies the tree line again and then looks back at me. “What happened to the see-through nightgown?” “I learned my lesson,” I say with a sisterly nudge.

“This is my dad’s favorite thing to talk about—personal responsibility. If you own up to not being perfect, life gets easier.

“Great. And how are the kids?” “They’re good. I mean, their dad left and he never sees them. But otherwise they’re good.” “Do you realize you say that every single time we talk?” “I do.”

When I hang up, Leo pulls me in tight. “So there’s no chance he’s going to follow through and show up?” “I would drop dead of shock if he knocked on the door. Let me put it this way: Ben always does what he wants to do. If he wants something, he buys it. If he wants to leave, he goes. If he wanted to see the kids, he would have been here months ago.” “Just do me a favor. Let me answer the door if he ever knocks,” Leo says.

By the time Mickey and Kate left, they were making fishing plans for August. August. So now Mickey’s a little in love with Leo too. They sit on the porch, and I cook and try not to eavesdrop until Kate calls and tells me to send him home. Leo wants to know about barbecuing ribs. Leo wants to know about solar panels. Mickey wants to know who in Hollywood Leo’s seen naked.

“Well, this is new,” I say. “It is,” he says and takes my sweaty hand. “I mean, it’s a nice change from my old loop.” “I mean, you’re the first person I’ve ever been in love with,” he says. Just like that. It’s a Wednesday, I think, but I’m not even sure. In a meadow dotted with trees, covered in sweat with birds chirping around us, Leo Vance is in love with me. In that second, my life is like the tea house—I can see all the way through to the other side where there’s an entirely different reality.

When I’ve cried myself out, she says, “Okay. You’ve got to bear with me. This is really uncharted territory. I’ve never seen you cry before. Like even last time when your actual husband left.”

I laugh. “Yes, I did know this. Listen, when you come back, I’ll walk you through roasting a chicken.” Leo’s quiet for a second. “No, thanks. I just want you to roast me a chicken. I don’t ever want to eat another chicken that wasn’t roasted by you.” My desire to put on an apron and roast this man a chicken is profound. I don’t even own an apron. I just want him to be close enough to me that I can hand him a plate with chicken on it.

❤️

“So Leo texted me in the middle of the night. They had to hire a new director so he can’t come till Friday.” “I got the same text,” says Arthur to his eggs. “See,” says Bernadette. “This is why I need a cell phone. It’s not fair that Leo texts you guys and not me. I’m totally left out of this family.” That last word gives me pause.

The basic truth of parenting fills my heart: If your kids are okay, you don’t really have any problems. I will relish this feeling.

Leo: It mattered and you turned it into one of your bullshit stories. I’m surprised you didn’t give yourself a cupcake shop Me: Leo you’re the one who left Leo: I was coming back A thousand replies run through my mind: Have you been in traffic for seven months? Were you incarcerated? Sidetracked? Sleepy? Goofy? Before I’ve chosen one, he texts: Leo: Forget it. I’m glad you’re happy. Go back to sleep.

Martin is now at my side, protective. “Best-looking date I’ve ever brought to one of these things—am I right, Leo?” “Careful,” he says. “She’ll break your heart.” And suddenly I understand rage. I understand setting fires and smashing in people’s faces with iron knuckles.

“You’re all so handsome,” I hear myself saying as we shake hands. William laughs. “Well, thank you. Luke and I are just handsome as a hobby. Only Leo makes a living at it.” Luke and Jenn laugh, so I do too. These are some of the easiest people I’ve ever met. They’re grounded and open, like the best parts of Leo. And they don’t think Leo can handle hospice.

“And now I’ve got to go find him and punch his lights out,” my dad kids. They’re smiling at each other and I can feel Leo looking my way. I don’t dare look at him in case he can still read my mind. My parents are the happy ending of the romance movie. My parents are what we could have been if he’d just come back.

He pulls away but doesn’t let go of my hand. “So I want to leave today and then come back. Like, here.” “Okay,” I say. Okay! I mean. “Like, I want you to know I’m coming back. And if you think I’m not coming back, then I want you to say, ‘Hey, asshole, how come it seems like you’re not coming back?’ Like a normal woman.”

“Tell him,” says Bernadette. “We’re getting married,” says Leo. “For real?” asks Arthur. I hold up my hand and show him the wedding ring. He hugs Leo, then me, and I notice everyone’s crying. “Now go do your morning things. I’ve got to kiss your mom good-bye.”

And second, that the best things come back. Sometimes it’s right after the commercial, sometimes it takes longer. But time and sunshine bring growth, and life unfolds just the way it’s supposed to.