My Nora Read Free

the gravel.
    “What is it, man? Come on, get the hell out of here!”
    “Tell me when you’re going to install the dish.”
    “Why? What’s it to you?”
    “Information is valuable. I may be able to use it to my advantage.”
    “In exchange for what?”
    “None of your business.” He jutted his chin toward the parking lot, a nod to the woman who was then hitching her giant pleather purse onto her bony shoulder.
    Chad blew out a breath and scratched his head. “Uh, I dunno. Might be able to get Patricia to come watch the shop and bring the baby with her. You know how awkward that shit is, though.”
    Matt closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Not my problem. I know the divorce isn’t final yet, but she does own half the shop so you’re going to have to deal with her. When are you going to install the dish?”
    “God, why am I even friends with you? You’re a jackass.”
    “Because I used to keep people from kicking your ass in high school.”
    The old woman slammed her car door and then paused to examine the buttons on her key fob.
    “Oh yeah … ”
    “The dish?”
    “I’ll do it tonight, I guess. Hope it doesn’t get dark before I have a chance to get out there.” The woman found the correct button and the car let out an anemic “beep!” as the doors locked.
    “Good. I’ll hold you to it.” Matt pushed the door open and was just about to step through it when Chad called after him, “Hey! Is she cute?”
    Matt shook his head, and as the door closed behind him he responded, “Not even a little bit. And way too smart for you, bud.”
    *
    Matt typically beat his sister home from work, and that day was no exception. He worked for the local fishery hauling in nets filled with flounder, trout, herring, and spot croakers from the Chowan River. He went to work before dawn, but was usually off for the day by two or so, which gave him plenty of daylight hours to ride his motorcycle and do maintenance on his thirty-year-old ranch house. The job was grueling and physically demanding, but Matt liked that he didn’t have to think too much while doing it. He did enough thinking at home, usually while showering the stink of fish off himself. That’s why his father had liked it, too.
    He parked his truck next to the deck, leaving his lonely bike unaccompanied under the carport for the time being. Not that his sister Karen’s little coupe was much company, pathetic excuse for a vehicle it was. It wasn’t much heavier than a paperweight because it didn’t have an air conditioner, but it fit Karen’s meager budget and got excellent gas mileage. That car was the only thing Karen really had to pay for. Matt didn’t have to heart to make her chip in on household bills just yet, although he had recently drawn the line and given up on paying her exorbitant data charges on her cell phone. What the hell was she downloading all day, anyway?
    Matt at age thirty-four had essentially been a single parent for the past ten years. His parents had died in a nighttime car accident on Highway 32 caused by a deer crossing the road. The driver of the truck approaching from the other direction said they didn’t have any good options. They could either hit the deer and lose control of the vehicle; swerve into oncoming traffic; or steer onto the narrow shoulder to the right of their lane. His dad chose the shoulder, but the jerk of the steering wheel made the tires lose traction on the rain-slick road and caused the car to fishtail toward the deep ditch. His dad hit the brakes to preempt their impact with the approaching guardrail, but the car not only drove into it, but over it. Fortunately, Karen, ten at the time, had been at summer camp and not in the car.
    Their aunts and grandparents offered to take Karen in and the young man, living in a trailer near the fishery at the time, honestly considered letting them take her. Back then, Matt thought he was too young to be a parent, and