I’m so happy, Josie tells her, clasping Nora’s wrists as though she truly means it, in spite of everything. In spite of her husband dying so suddenly, more than a decade ago. Her only son leaving, never to return. Pills she has to take, daily, lined up on her window sill, a cocktail of drugs she will never stop needing that keep her confined to the house, keep her from becoming fixated on abnormal things, keep her life small and solitary and contained. And yet she is overflowing, it seems,with this moment, this joy that is not even hers, beaming at Nora as if she’s her own daughter, as if this is her own wonderful news, and Nora swallows all the feeling this stirs up in her as she says me too, Josie. Me too.
_
Well, Freya says, back in the kitchen. I suppose it’s an excuse to wear a giant hat.
Josie is taking down three glasses from a shelf, and Nora is putting the now-clean mushrooms into a Tupperware. You do rock a hat, Nora says.
Don’t butter me up, Freya says, and when Josie looks confused, Nora explains that her feminist free spirit might as well be dead, now she’s engaged. Freya snorts, but when Josie still looks nonplussed, she says,marriage, Josephine! It’s just not for me.
Something burns, briefly, in Nora’s stomach; at how her mother can say this to Josie, of all people. But Josie doesn’t react, as if she’s barely noticed. Nora often wonders if this is how they’ve remained such good friends; Freya, able to say what she wants, unfiltered, and Josie, so often oblivious, letting it slide.
So did he get down on one knee, Josie asks Nora, handing her a water glass.
No, Nora says. We were outside, by the river. On our lunch break.
Howlovely. Jon proposed to me outside, did I ever tell you that? Up a hill, somewhere.
More burning, then, a twist in her gut. Nora puts down her glass and turns around, pulls out knives and forks just as Freya opens the oven door, steam expelling in a cloud. Hot tray slid outwards, hiding her face. But the moment passes.Josie is talking about garden birds, now. Nora’s news has been acknowledged and left behind, just like anything else in Josie’s world, and rather than disappointing, this feels like a relief. Because it’s no big deal, like Freya might make it out to be. People get married all the time; it requires no justification to herself, or to her mother, or to old friends she’s not seen in years.
I put out the Niger seed, Josie is saying, and would you believe it, the goldfinch came back. All five of them. D’you know they’re called a charm, when they’re in a group?
Really, Nora says, though Josie’s told her this countless times.
I’ve not seen the bullfinch for a while, though. And I do worry about him. When it’s been this long.
Nora hears this, and doesn’t respond as she lays down three sets of cutlery at the table.
Oh, I won’t be staying, pet, Josie says, but Freya demands that she join them, come on. But I already had my soup, at six, Josie says, as though that settles it.
Wait, Nora says, catching sight of the tray on the side. I thought you were joking about the turkey dinosaurs?
Why would I joke about such a delicacy? Freya says, dislodging a stegosaurus with her spatula.
Aren’t you a vegan, these days?
I am! And as part of a varied diet of self-care and plant-based intentions, they’re a once-in-a-blue-moon treat. Plus tonight is the Wolf Moon, which counts. I might even add the mushrooms to the side salad.
The mushrooms that could end up blinding us?
I thought they’d add a certain beige thrill, yes.
I think, Josie says, with a sip of her water, that’s my cue to leave.
Freya says suit yourself; waves her off. Nora waits, then follows her without a word. Through the hallway, then porch,saying her name in the driveway. Nora! Josie says, turning from her own front door. You’ll catch your death!
It’s okay, Nora says. I just wanted to …
The moon hangs above them, shining behind the branches of the birch on their shared lawn. Josie watches her, the orb reflected in her eyes.
It’s great that Robin’s proposed, Nora tells her. Obviously.
Really lovely, Josie agrees, and Nora nods, says yes, but she’d really like her not to say anything to Bren, yet, until she can tell him herself, although she does not say this last part, because it is a stupid, unexplainable thing to want to say; and also because it’s a lie, seeing as she’d had the chance to tell Bren, just recently, over email, and she hadn’t.
Josie, though, is still watching her. The rain has stopped, now, the night fresh and cold. Frost due on the ground by morning.
Do you think, Nora says, instead, her heart slow. Do you think Freya will be okay with it, once it’s all – sunk in?
Josie’s cottage door stands half open, her hand on the frame; wedding ring agleam on her left knuckle, as she studies Nora’s face.
