The Siren
“Come here, Kinky Easton.” She beckoned. “Amateur. You know you should always do an equipment check before you play.”
Today Nora wore jeans and a white blouse. With her hair down and loose about her shoulders, Zach was drawn to her despite himself. She reached for his hand and he felt a current go through him when her fingers touched his wrist.
“So what do you think?” he asked, trying to ignore the pleasant sensation of his hand in hers. “Some sort of wire cutters? Or can you pick the lock?”
“I can pick it. But I don’t have to.”
Nora reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her keys. She flipped through a couple of them, stuck one in the lock and turned it. The cuffs popped open and fell off his wrist.
“Wonderful,” he breathed. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She stuffed the keys back in her pocket and picked up the cuffs. “These are police issue cuffs. The key on them should have worked.”
“It didn’t. Both Mary and I tried.”
“Your prankster was really trying to cause trouble then. Handcuffs are mostly standardized in America and Canada. He wanted one or both of you to get stuck.”
“You know your stuff, don’t you?” he asked, impressed despite himself.
“I strive for authenticity in my work.”
“So that’s why you keep a handcuff key with you?”
She smiled slyly.
“Gotta be prepared. We guttersnipes are always ending up in trouble with the coppers.”
“You know, I should apologize for being so rude about you. The work is going rather well.”
The tiredness temporarily disappeared from her eyes.
“Thanks, Zach. I appreciate that.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We aren’t even close to the finish line.”
“I know. That’s why I came here. This is a good place for praying and meditating.”
“Praying? Really?”
“I grew up in the Catholic Church, believe it or not. Cradle Catholic, they call us. I was probably born in a pew. Knowing my father I was probably conceived in one, as well. I don’t attend Mass much these days, but I do get homesick now and then.”
“They must stand in line to hear your confessions.”
Nora released a hollow, joyless laugh.
“No,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t go to confession anymore.”
“So what brings you here then if you’re no longer practicing? Faith or just nostalgia?”
“Maybe it’s nostalgia for my faith.” She shrugged and laughed again. “I still believe. I do. My life has been too blessed not to believe. Faith just isn’t as easy as it used to be. Not since I left Søren anyway.”
“Was it easier with him?”
Nora nodded. “It’s easy to believe in God when you wake up every morning knowing you are completely and unconditionally loved. Søren gave me that.”
“But still you left him. Why?”
“There are only two reasons why you leave someone you’re still in love with—either it’s the right thing to do, or it’s the only thing to do.”
“Which was it?”
Nora exhaled slowly. “The right thing. I think. You?”
Zach turned his head and saw an icon of the Virgin Mary holding the infant Jesus in her arms.
“The only thing. I think. Suffice it to say Grace and I never should have been together to start with.”
“Sounds like me and Søren. We definitely shouldn’t have been together.”
“Why?” Maybe if he could find out why Nora left the man she loved so deeply, he could begin to understand why Grace had pulled away from him.
“He had—” Nora paused and seemed to search for the right word “—other obligations.”
“Is he married?”
She raised her hand and touched her neck. He followed her eyes. She gazed at a small iron Jesus impaled on his cross.
“Something like that.” She shook herself from her reverie and met Zach’s eyes again. “Come on. Let’s get back to the house. You can look over my new chapters.” Nora gave Zach her hand and he let her pull him up. But she didn’t stop with up. She pulled him straight to her.
Face-to-face, their bodies were only separated by a hairbreadth. Nora looked down and back up again.
“Oh, dear. No room for the Holy Ghost.”
“You are incorrigible, Ms. Sutherlin.” Zach’s smile died as he noticed the dark circles under Nora’s eyes. “You look exhausted. Are you not sleeping?”
“I’m fine. But last night I kept waking up every hour and going in to check on Wes. You know, I got an IUD so I would never have to do the ‘is junior still breathing?’ thing. This is very unfair.”
“IUD—you are a bad Catholic, aren’t you?”
“The birth control is the least of my worries if I ever have to answer to the pope,” she said, taking a step back. “I do as Martin Luther instructed—I sin boldly.”
He followed her down the steps and along the rows of pews to a side entrance he hadn’t seen when he came in. Inside the door was a foyer where Nora had left her coat.
“Do they make the sinners use the side door?” he asked.
“We’d all have to use the side door then. ‘All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.’ Romans 3:23.”