A Cup of Normal Read Free Page A

demand to know why he was so interested in my work. Intimidating people is something I do well. Of course, I’d probably attract the attention of my other neighbors and end up with an entire block of statues.
    The idea had merit, but eventually the police would investigate.
    The snakes rose, angry and hissing. If trouble came, I would handle it.
    And if Jason came, I would handle him too.
    I cranked up the heat in the house and curled up in my electric blanket, determined to lose myself to the peace of my memories, but all I could think of were the smiles of heroes I should have turned to stone.
    I wasn’t surprised to hear a knock at the door a few hours later. I paced into the living room and peeked through the peephole, expecting to see Jenny there, with the wad of bills in her hand.
    Instead I saw Jason standing in the rain, one hand shoved in the pocket of his denim jacket, the other holding a bottle of wine. Even wet, he looked good.
    “Go away.”
    “Ms. Gorgriou, it will just take a minute. I have a proposition that may interest you.”
    Silence.
    “I’m not leaving until you let me in.”
    Fine, I thought. I can take care of you easily enough. You’d make a nice addition to the backyard.
    “Please come in, Jason.” I slipped my dark glasses on and unlocked the door.
    Better talk fast, hero.
    Jason came in and held out the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. “I brought this to celebrate,” he said.
    “Oh?”
    “You see, Ms. Gorgriou — may I call you Dusi? Jenny mentioned that was your first name.”
    Jenny has a big mouth. I smiled sweetly. “Certainly.”
    “Dusi, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
    Countdown to concrete, I thought.
    Five. . .
    “I am a field representative for a group based out of San Francisco.”
    Four . . .
    “Your statues caught my eye. They are so amazingly real, almost too good to be true.”
    Three . . .
    “So I had to investigate.” He smiled. “I’m glad you let me in the other day.”
    Two . . . I fingered the edge of my sunglasses and lowered my gaze from his forehead to eyebrows.
    “I am authorized to pay you four times your current asking price for your statues, provided you let us display them exclusively through our galleries.”
    One never hit. I blinked, quickly looked back at his forehead. “Galleries?”
    “In San Francisco. I’m vacationing. I already sent the snake statue down to the gallery director. He loved it!” He laughed, a rich, warm sound that sent shivers across my skin.
    “He thinks you’re the discovery of the century and I couldn’t agree with him more.”
    Discovery. I rolled the word in my mind and decided it was a much nicer way to say monster.
    “How long would you represent my work?” I asked, thinking of the long touristless, and cashless, winter. “Is there a contract?”
    He fished inside his jacket and handed me an envelope. “Five years, a substantial advance and renewal options.”
    No more wondering if I could eat from month to month. I licked my lips and pulled out the papers. I took my time reading every word. It was a deal, after all, and deals and heroes don’t mix. But for once, this deal seemed wholly in my favor.
    “Where do I sign?”
    He gave me his pen, watched as I signed with large flowing letters. I used my full name, Medusa Gorgriou.
    I smiled. “Now what?”
    “Celebration.”
    Late afternoon slid into night. We emptied the wine bottle and I learned about his job, which he loved, his life in San Francisco, which he loved to hate, and the woman who divorced him seven years ago. “I miss her,” he sighed, “but I knew it was only a matter of time. She and I are too different.”
    He looked at me, trying to catch my eyes through my glasses. “Do you always wear those?”
    “No.” It was my turn to smile.
    “You are beautiful, Dusi.”
    I laughed. “Meet my sisters and you would change your mind.” I tilted my glass and caught the last drop of red wine on the tip of my tongue.
    “I’ve