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Le Mars, Iowa


swahilimonkfish

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Chapter 1

 


“You got that, Nora?”

“Busy”

“You actually busy, or just on your phone?”

“Fine… I’ll get it”

Nora’s shoulders slumped lower than their already deflated default as she pulled herself off the stool in the corner of the store to greet the customer. A stool that was originally for Betty Reynolds when she worked in the store. Before her stroke. She was never very good on her legs was Betty. Nora had since claimed the three-legged thing as her own on quiet days. Which were most days. Thank god for Betty’s stroke.

“Hi, welcome to Mattie’s Fabrics, how can I help you today?” she sing-sang to the customer while not really making much in the way of eye-contact with the customer. The worst thing about working in retail, ask anybody, is the customers. And the pay. And all of it really.

“You got any sheets of linen? I’m sewing a dress together and…”

“Color?”

“Oh… ummm… do you have egg-shell or ivory?” the customer asked. Some old woman, Nora had seen her about from time to time. She’d seen most people around from time to time. After all, the town of Le Mars, Iowa, was only so big and not a million miles away from the middle of nowhere. A few thousand faces stuck on repeat, endlessly recycled on a loop like the stock faces in a computer game. Le Mars. Where dreams go to whither and people go to die. Which sucked for someone like Nora, who was born and raised there.

“Yeah, sure. We call it beige but…”

“Oh no, not beige. What about off-white or…”

“No, you want beige. Beige is off-white. Beige is ivory and beige is egg-shell. And it’s also desert sand and ecru and cosmic latte and tuscan and unbleached silk… it’s all the same color, ma’am. Just with fancier names. A million ways to say beige. So… you good with beige? Ma’am?”

“I’ll… I’ll maybe try elsewhere” the old lady said, scuttling off out the shop. Nora rolled her eyes. There was nowhere else. This was Le Mars. There was only one fabric shop, ailing and bare, and she was working in it. You could try Sioux City but that was half an hour away by car and longer by bus. And all because this customer was too arrogant to deal with a word like beige. Nora didn’t get it. Had she not seen the color of this entire town?

“Did you scare away another customer?”

“Come on! You heard her, Paisley, she was being an ass”

“That’s Mrs. Dover. The pastor’s wife. Leads the choir. If someone was being  ass, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Mrs. Dover. If I tell your mom that you’re the reason that this place is closing down...”

“Whatever… narc” Nora spat her tongue out as she smiled, before climbing back onto her stool and staring at her phone again.

Nora wasn’t the reason that Mattie’s Fabrics was going under. The 21st Century was the reason that Mattie’s Fabrics was going under. The 21st Century with its rise of online shopping and with its steady decline of main streets and anything outside the big coastal cities. The 21st Century with its disdain for those content just to eke out a living. The 21st Century that had no time for self-made items using russet fabrics and cotton fabrics. Nora’s cynicism barely left an imprint, drowned out by the looming shadow of modernity and time.

“Anyway, how is your mom? Still down about it or…?”

“Yeah. Still down about it. Got a house full of people saying nothing. Dad quiet cuz mom’s quiet. Leanne’s quiet cuz dad’s quiet. And I’m quiet cuz... I hate it there” Nora grumbled, while typing some comment to a Facebook post that she didn’t care about. Her sister posting about sports that she didn’t watch but her fiance did so she felt she’d best keep up experiences. Her boss from her first job complaining about Hilary Clinton’s involvement in a prostitution ring. Jasmine from across the road showing pictures of her youngest’s first steps. Though, given that she’d had five kids already, surely the novelty should have worn off by now? Nora scrolled through it all, the blue and white just giving her eyes something to do rather than explicitly entertain her.

“Hey… you okay? It must be tough for you, Nor”

She walked up to her and put an arm around Nora’s shoulder in sympathy, leaning their heads against one another like they were shaped specially for that purpose. Both of them just stayed in silence for a bit. It’s not like the place was busy.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. But Paisley… thanks”

Nora smiled at Paisley kindly, and their eyes lingered against one another for another few moments.

“Hey, you’re my best friend, and also my only friend but that’s not important, and I’ll do anything for you. Including the sex” Paisley smirked, and Nora pulled away with a giggle.

“You are gross”

“I just wanna do the sex with you”

“Stop it!”

“You know I wanna have the sex with you”

“Stop calling it ‘the sex’. And also stop talking about us having sex. Both of those things”

“How about a 69?”

“That… that’s still sex”

“A 96?”

“That’s the same thing! Just a made up name for the same thing!”

“Like calling egg-white beige?”

“Exactly like calling egg-white beige!”


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Nora and Paisley had been friends since the days of Le Mars Community Middle School, and through to Le Mars Community High School. Ever since Mr Durant had that emotional breakdown that everyone still talks about and the police had to be called, and Nora had to console a crying Paisley in the corner of Miss Derby’s classroom. Or was it Mr Coffrey’s classroom back then? Either way, Paisley was a year younger and half a foot shorter, but they bonded that day, possibly over the shared trauma, and just never got around to un-bonding. Who else was there to bond with around these parts? Jasmine and her never-ending procession of children? No thank you.

So Nora was like an older sister to Paisley, and Paisley was the younger sister to Nora. The Samwys to her Frodo, the Samwell to her Job Snow. Nora even got the girl that job at her mom’s store. It was just the way of things, and nobody paid it much thought. And Paisley was useful to have around. Her parents could never complain about their daughter for anything, because everything that Nora was bad at, Paisley was worse. Like a wingwoman, but for nagging parents. It wasn’t the reason that Nora liked Paisley, but it wasn’t a bad side-effect.

They were now in their mid-20s and their friendship was the best thing about every day for Nora. In fact, the only good thing. Work was a soul-sapping exercise - she hated the busy days because they were busy and she hated the quiet days because they weren’t. Worse still, work was only a soul-sapping exercise in the short term. Her mom was having to close the store at the end of the month. It was either that or lose the house. So the store went, and so did 30 years of hard work and pride and being integral to the community. Nobody bought raw materials any more, every piece of clothing always came ready-made. Why put in the effort, when somebody else would do it for you? The residents of Le Mars weren’t fans of SE Asian sweatshops exactly, but they didn’t mind the convenience, if they were being honest. The only generation that believed in self-repair and sewing and such things had hands too arthritic to carry it out. The fad of young people taking up such hobbies as sewing and knitting only applied to the cities, where the hipsters and all their various beard oils were, a million miles away.

Neither Paisley nor Nora knew what to do after the place closed. They’d worked there since high school, sitting around and occasionally ushering someone towards the satin section. Without the place, there weren’t a whole heap of options without a hefty commute. The two biggest employers in town were Wells’ Ice Cream Manufacturing Plant, and Western Haulage. Both were mainstays of the town. Molly’s mom worked at Wells’, and both Terri and Terry had dads’ work for Western Haulage. Years ago, the town’s mayor had dubbed Le Mars “The Ice Cream Capital of the World”. It’s true, look it up. Sure, this is despite Napoli existing. And sure, there was only a single ice cream plant. But the mayor’s self-anointing was more wishful thinking than reality, and it looked good on the signs. There had been talk for years about a second factory. It was the sort of thing politicians would promise on the campaign trail near election time and then not deliver so that they could promise it again at the next election. Iowa got a lot of those.  But that only really left Wells’, dairy farm work or the trucking company.

Both girls applied for jobs at both places, sending a resume listing a thin smattering of achievements - Mattie’s Fabrics, a high school diploma, JV softball and the 4-H Club - but both girls secretly hoped for neither job. They probably would recognise half the people there - didn’t Tina go back to working at the factory after her family farm went under? - but they would be the people who didn’t make it. Who got left behind in place and time, in Le Mars, Iowa. A factory drone sounded more soul-sapping than Mattie’s Fabrics, and life as a trucker was not how they’d hoped to spend their days either. But it was what it was.

A third option was Melville. Or so the two girls liked to joke. He was in the same year at High School as Nora and had liked her ever since. Nora wasn’t the school’s queen bee or anything, but she had always been easy to fall for. Even 10 years later. She’d always attracted attention, never really seeking it but never really minding it either. Her 5’7” made her tall, but not in a particularly noticeable way. Her hair, a side-parted brown bob that was once longer, was again trendy without setting the world alight. Her figure, 150lbs spread evenly and without any underlying agenda, had curves to keep the eyes of passers-by occupied without ever being enough to seem dramatic. And her smile was friendly and warm, without flaw but without sheen. It all left her exactly as she wanted to be. Attractive, but without being the talk of the town.

Melville, on the other hand, was talk of the town. Not for his looks, mind you. Unfortunately for him, he was cursed with a face that looked hand-drawn by a toddler and a level of asymmetry that challenged the most seasoned geometrist. Nor was it for his character, an unassuming but likeable sort as most with Picasso-esque faces so often tend to be. No, the most notable fact about Melville was that time he won the state lottery, making him technically a millionaire, though $1.2 million (after taxes) was realistically enough to live no more lavishly than a schoolteacher when collected over a lifetime. But his millionaire status made him a interesting “plan B” for Nora, even if he did look like he was designed in the dark.

The bitter irony was that it was Melville and Paisley that had been friends back at school. They hung out in the emo corner, listening to Fall Out Boy and Paisley even tried dying her black once but it made her scalp itch so badly that it was never attempted nor spoked of again. Paisley wasn’t emo in personality, and she had long behind left the dark eye make-up, but Nora had known even then why Paisley wore only the blackest blacks. Because Paisley, even back then, was a chunky kid, and emo was just a place that ugly kids and chubby kids hung out. Nowadays, they just lived in Le Mars for that.


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“Someone’s got the holler tail” Nora’s dad said, not even looking up from the business section of the local paper. He only really cared for the sports pages, truth be known, but he read the whole thing so as to get his money’s worth.

“No, I don’t” Nora grumbled, grabbing a slice of toast as she walked towards the door.

“Sure sounds that way”

Nora sighed. She hated it when she was accused of being in a bad mood. How do you respond? You say ‘no’, and it sounds argumentative, proving their point. But if you say ‘yes’, then you are agreeing with their point. There was no answer to the question that wouldn’t vindicate her dad’s accusation. And, to make matters worse, he was right. She was in a foul mood.

“I have a job interview…” Nora admitted.

“Well, that’s the best bad news I’ve ever heard!” he said, finally looking up.

“...to drive trucks. Long-haul trucking. Can you imagine? Me, doing that? Smelling of diesel? Even the job at Well’s Ice Cream plant sounded better than that. Plus, Paisley got a job at Wells’, they offered it to her today. I don’t know why they would hire her and not me. No offense to Paisley…”

Her dad had been the one who had suggested applying to Western. He knew a guy, he said, which came as a shock to nobody since what middle-aged man from Le Mars, Iowa -did not know a guy at Western Haulage. Back when he was at Le Mars Community High School, several from his class ended up there. And then there was John, one of his Friday night bowling buddies, though they’d stopped hanging out of late. John hasn’t been the same since his wife had that stroke. He really should check in on him, make sure he’s doing okay. Maybe invite him round to watch football. Or go over there, and watch the game with John’s surround-sound system. Good karma, good football and surround-sound? There were worse ways of spending an evening.

“I don’t know. One look at your resume and I’d have done the same. Only one job, and at the place owned by your mom? Yeah, I’d have taken one look and thought ‘nepotism’” Her dad told her, before pushing his eyes back down. The horoscope section. The section where getting your moneys-worth out of a paper was hardest. He never believed such things. But then again, he never believed in driverless cars and apparently they were testing them now so maybe he should keep an open mind. And, as an Aquarius, he was the most open-minded star sign after all.

“Thanks dad” Nora rolled her eyes.

“Not a criticism. Just an observation. I know how these people work. How they think. And they’d look at you and see a no-hoper with a CV” he said, sipping his morning coffee. His wife glared at him. “But, of course, it’s not true and they don’t know what a wonderful woman they’re missing out on”.

“Yeah, that was too little too late dad. Anyway, I should probably be leaving. Gonna ask Paisley on interviewing tips, since I clearly suck and she’s clearly better than me” Nora grumbled.

“You don’t need any tips honey, I’m sure you’re wonderful. But make sure you’re back by 7… your uncle’s coming over for dinner” her mom added, as she applied make-up. Another meeting with the bank manager down in Sioux City. Not only did they have to take her business from her, they also needed thousands of mind-numbing meetings to do it.

“The creepy uncle? Or the really creepy uncle?”

“Don’t call them that. Your Uncle Johnny’s not too bad, as long as we’re in the room. But it’s Alan this time, so maybe get back a bit earlier than 7 so you can change into something more conservative. Anyway, I have to scoot off but I’ll catch you two later. And when’s your interview Nora?”

“Wednesday… if I go”

“Oh don’t be silly honey. It’ll be fine. If it’s not meant to be, you won’t get it. And if it is, you will. And doesn’t that girl from your year drive trucks? The one with the braces?” her mom said as she headed to the door.

“Marie-anne hasn’t worn braces in ten years. And she delivers things to people who shop online. It’s a bit different from long-distance trucking. And she was in Leanne’s year, not mine. But apart from that, you got it in one, mom!” Nora said, but her mom was already out the door.

“And you will turn up at that interview Nora. Otherwise everyone in town will think of you as the kind of woman who doesn’t turn up to interviews and you don’t want that, do you? And then nobody will hire you. Trust me, I know how these people think” her dad continued, eyes focused as he finally reached the sports section. At last, where the actual good stuff was. And it was just as well, because Nora too had left for whatever it was she had said she was planning on doing. Leaving him in peace with the best section of the paper. Sometimes, you gotta enjoy the good stuff when it hits.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-


“I’m so sorry Nora, I honestly thought they’d give you the job” Paisley said as Nora sat herself back down on her usual stool in Mattie’s Fabrics for the last time. It was the last day of trading, the closing down sale had proven to be enough of a hit that they were actually closing three days earlier than planned. Which was good? Or bad? It was hard to tell really.

“Oh no, they offered me the job. It’s mine if I want it. I’m just pissed cuz it’s… like, me, driving a truck? Why couldn’t I work with you? I’d be so good at… doing whatever it is you’re gonna do. Making ice cream?” Nora scrunched her face up, not really remembering.

“You landed a decent job in this town and you’re still being a little bitch about it? Nor, you are ridiculous at times!” Paisley threw one of the biros from behind the desk at her friend, who flinched to such an extent that she nearly toppled.

“Trucking, though?”

“Sounds bad-ass if you ask me. No cars on the road getting in your way in a truck. Plus, you’d get to travel. Sorta. Get outta this town. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Yeah. I guess” Nora’s shoulders slumped, eyes on her phone again. Jasmine was on her Facebook feed, talking about maybe trying for another kid. Wasn’t six enough? Everyone in the comments was really supportive but they all must have been thinking that.

And was it what she wanted? Driving a truck and getting outta Le Mars? It wasn’t how she’d always seen things going. She didn’t think it was beneath her, but… well, she did think it was beneath her, but didn’t want to be a bitch about it so she stuffed that thought to the back of her head. And maybe Paisley was right? Travelling sounded good. Showing the guys that she could do it just as well as they could, despite being a proud 27 year old woman and not a, old dad-bodded 45 year old man who racks up a DUI every Christmas, making him late to pick up the kids. 27 years old, meant she was young still, she was pretty sure. But was she just the lower end of middle-aged? Her parents kept hassling her over settling down with somebody - “didn’t that Melville like you? He’s not the best looking but he’d keep you right” - and if it wasn’t 27, then when was it? 28? 30? So many questions in Nora’s head, and not really the desire to answer them.

“Plus, I bet you get paid well. Ronnie from my year…”

“One of the emo ones?”

“Yeah, he had that cheap leather coat that he thought made him look cool but everyone totally made fun of him because of it… well, he drives. Not for Western Haulage, he moved outta town a few years back. But he’s got a nice house from the looks of the pictures on Facebook…”

“I know, Paiz. I know. It’s just… remember when we were growing up and we were gonna leave this place and go meet up with your cousin out in Cedar Falls and… I dunno… it was different working for my mom cuz it always felt temporary. Just a way to hang out and make money while I decide what to do. But this job, driving a truck, it’ll… I worry that it’s like I’ll be deciding ‘this is who I am now’. And that person will be someone who drives trucks and this just isn’t how I pictured things going when we talked about leaving for Cedar Rapids…”

“You are weirdly philosophical at times Nor. You think about things way too much”

Unbeknownst to Paisley, this was something that Nora was aware of. In fact, this was something that Nora thought about way too much, before starting to think about how she was thinking too much about how she was thinking too much. It wasn’t deliberate or premeditated. Her mind just took the scenic route to any conclusion, often stopping to enjoy the scenery before getting there. Or maybe she was just overthinking things when she reached that conclusion.

Paisley, Nora had long concluded, was never partial to such ruminatory detours. She never really spent much time thinking about how much time she spent thinking about things, but it is safe to say that, were she to do so, then the conclusion would be that she spent very little time thinking about such things. It wasn’t that she was dumb, it’s just that her eyes focused on the things in front of her, and her mind did the same.

Nora never thought this as a sign that Paisley was lesser or not as smart. In some ways, it seemed a virtue, to go along in the direction that life pulled her without stopping to ponder why and whether there. On the other hand, Nora was also self-aware enough to know that she was lying to herself when she thought this, and that her superior self-awareness was a reason why she did think she was better than Paisley. But everyone did that, didn’t they? Everyone thought that they were smarter than everyone. What’s the alternative? Thinking other people are right, and you are wrong? If you thought that, if you thought you were wrong, then why were you thinking it? Surely just think the thing that you think is right, instead?

“I mean… is working in QC at Wells’ what you always thought you’d be doing?” Nora retorted, now looking at pictures of an old flame with a new partner who had the same haircut that she did. They must have a type.

“So you do know what I do at Well’s?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just don’t tell anyone. I wanna come across as cool and disinterested” Nora smirked as she said it, desperately looking at her screen so she didn’t fully crack into a smile. “Anyway, at least you get to eat ice cream for a living”.

“Well… actually… QC don’t get to eat the ice cream”

Nora looked up at this.

“What the fuck? Why not?”

“It’s just testing it. I just do the visual checks on deliveries from other suppliers. No samples though. Oh my god! I just thought, you might be one of the people who makes deliveries to us? I might have to check your stock!” Paisley beamed.

“Does everything you say have to sound like an innuendo? People are gonna think you’re into me” Nora’s attention was back on her phone.

“Me checking your stock is not an innuendo. Says more about you than it does about me that your brain went there”

“No it doesn’t!”

“You’re seriously defensive every time I mention we should be gay lovers?”

“I’m not! Oh fuck… you just did what my dad does!”

“Your dad thinks we should be gay lovers?”

“No, he… always sets me up by saying I’m argumentative or defensive and if I say ‘no’ it just proves his…” Nora looked up, to see Paisley smirking at her. Nora’s cheeks were red and she realised that she actually was getting worked up this time. Maybe Nora wasn’t as self-aware as she thought. Maybe Paisley was more self-aware than she thought. But here Nora was again, arguing that she wasn’t arguing.

But this was Paisley all over. The little sister she never had. Or she would have been, if Leanne wasn’t the little sister that she did have. Paisley was not as smart or reflective, not as tall nor as pretty, not as old, not as wise. But she was loyal and funny and breezy and cute. 5ft1 and still the same amount of soft chunkiness that she’d possessed since the days of ditching math to avoid Mrs Tyler and her missing front tooth. Paisley had chipmunk cheeks and a muffintop regardless of what she chose to wear. And she had long hair that was brown like Nora. But not brown like Nora because Nora’s was chestnut and mahogany, while Paisley’s was more dead moss. But cute though, although Nora didn’t possess enough self-awareness over the extent that she felt that way.

“One good thing about working at Wells’... I get employee discount” Paisley smiled, and those chipmunk cheeks reemerged. “So you know what that means?”

“That purchases made by employees are at a price reduced by a certain fraction?”

“It means that, after this shift, we should totally get ice cream”
 

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Chapter 2

 

“So, you have your CLP come through?”

It was late May and it was warm. Clouds were blocking the sun out but keeping the heat in. Clouds of varying shades of beige. Some were off-white and some were ivory, some were egg-shell and some were desert sand, some were ecru and some were cosmic latte, some were tuscan and some were unbleached silk. And all of them looked like they were carrying water, but had no intention of releasing it onto the small town of Le Mars. Which left things as they were: warm with a thick humidity.

His name was Chesney and he was junior manager at the Western Haulage’s depot. Chesney. His name was Chesney. Like Kenny Chesney. Supposedly. His hair was long and greasy, with wirey gray woven between his natural brown hues. He looked as though he’d enjoyed his life over the years. A healthy gut, ruddy cheeks, and a smile that he was rarely without.

“Yeah, here it is” Nora handed him the paperwork.

“And regular driver’s license?”

Nora handed that over too.

“No smile?” Chesney said, looking at the photo.

“It’s a driving license. You’re not supposed to smile”

“I always smile. You point a camera at Chesney, and Chesney’s gonna smile” Chesney smiled. Despite the absence of any nearby cameras. He then returned to his spiel. “So, I’m CDL qualified, so I have to sit with you on journeys until you pass your test. You can only take your test after 14 days of possessing your CLP. The skills test will consist of three parts: the road test, the vehicle inspection test and… I always forget the other one. I don’t remember what it is, but...it's important.  All three are vital. Once you pass your tests, you can start trucking for real. So, uh, welcome to Western Haulage”.

Nora smiled back, but her heart wasn’t in it. It wouldn’t have been in it on a day of radiant sunshine. But this was Iowa. It was somehow gray and warm. The kind that makes you sweat but not get a tan. Le Mars, Iowa in a nutshell.

Nora was hugging herself despite being warm. She hadn’t helped herself with how she’d dressed. She was no fashionista, but she did have a mom who used to run a fabrics store, so she figured she knew a thing or two about clothing. However, she’d not exactly known what to wear for work. It was work, but there was no uniform. It was a job, but the company was quite casual and informal. She’d ended with a jacket that looked good without looking like she’d put in effort. Though she was regretting the extra layer in the warm conditions.

“And what will I be driving?”

Chesney’s face would have lit up at that question, had the 40 year old man not stopped smiling the entire time he had been talking to her.

“You’ll be driving Sweet Iowa herself”

Great, Nora thought. The trucks have names. And worse still. Hers was called Sweet Iowa. When getting away from Iowa was supposed to be one of the few perks of the job.

“Hey, don’t look like that. She’s great for starters. Smaller? Yes. And forgiving for the driver, but great in tough conditions. It could be worse. Mine? Old Chesney here has to do battle with big old Champs Elias and it’s been a tough old time. Had to have its gearbox replaced three times the past 5 years”

He showed Nora a photo of a large, articulated truck that, as far as she could tell, looked just like every other one she had ever seen. Underneath the picture were the words Champs Elysees, though Nora thought better of correcting his pronunciation. He seemed so smiley after all.

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“So, what was driving it like?”. They were under the bed covers together watching Heathers for about the 8th time. It was Paisley’s favourite and Nora didn’t mind. There were worse films. Like Duel, for example, which is how her nightmares had been recently.

“I dunno. Complicated, I guess. I dunno, it feels less like driving a car and more like flying a plane. On the ground. I dunno, just complicated” Nora said as she put her spoon into her mouth as she watched Heather Duke make herself puke and being mocked for it by Heather Chandler. Bulimia always looked unpleasant. Nora had known a few girls from school who’d had dalliances with eating disorders, but no one who had committed to them. Well, not that they knew of. Her high school was far too boring for that. Maybe Paisley had tried it? How do you ask a question like that though? Best not to, Nora reasoned.

“Do you have to drive stick?”

“Yeah, split shift 13 speed transmission. Like I say, complicated” Nora said, twisting her head to see Paisley putting a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “How’s yours?”

“Ice cream? Same as always: really good. Like, all ice cream is good ice cream. Apart from vanilla cuz that literally has no flavor. Hey, you wanna try some? And I’ll take some of your Peanut Butter Fudge?”

They swapped spoons to enjoy each other’s Well’s ice cream and Paisley leaned into her best friend a little closer. This had been the third time that Nora had found herself in Paisley’s bed this week, eating ice cream and watching the earlier parts of Winona’s filmography. No paycheck yet, that Well’s discount was coming in useful for the ice cream, and Netflix was sorting out the movies. Though the absence of Beetlejuice in Netflix’s back catalog was noted.

“Nor…”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks”

Nora straightened up and looked at her friend at her with confusion.

Both Nora and Paisley were in nighties. It had been a custom since they first became friends. They would huddle together and giggle mischievously. Nora realised that, as the older friend, she probably needed to comfort Paisley. After the incident at the school with Mr Durant, who wouldn’t need it? So it became a thing. A decade of nighties and Heathers and under the covers giggling. And, recently, Wells ice cream.

And somehow it felt no different, a decade later. Paisley’s parents didn’t seem to mind because, well, you know how Paisley’s parents are. And Paisley didn’t mind, there was a security and comfort to the routine of it, two things that Paisley had a huge amount of time for. And Nora didn’t mind. Nora didn’t mind one bit.

“What for?”

“Just… hanging. I dunno, I just… I had this idea that we wouldn’t hang out as much. Now we aren’t working together any more” Paisley looked up sympathetically at Nora, whose eyebrows flinched at the honesty.

“Yeah, well I was planning on hanging out with all my old trucker buddies but they cancelled on me so…” Nora flashed a smile while her heart beat a little faster.

“You won’t ditch me, will you though? Like, when you get your proper licence and go explore the wild, blue yonder and everything?”

“Paisley… you are the most important person in my life and I will never - NEVER - ditch you like that. I promise” Nora said, looking into her friend’s eyes. Not accidentally. But deliberately meeting them and refusing to let go. Hang onto them, Nora. And don’t let go.

“Oh my god, I wish we really were lesbians. You’d make such a great girlfriend. Just think of the movies we could watch together then” Paisley said sweetly.

Nora didn’t answer. She just let her eyes return to the screen. Christian Slater was there looking smug. Nora never really understood his appeal in this movie. She never understood the appeal of Christian Slater at all, really.


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Denise was sitting in her chair, looking at paperwork. Another meeting in Sioux City with the handsome man from the bank, and hopefully that would be the end of it. Unless, of course, the handsome man would invite her for coffee. No, that would be inappropriate for a married woman. Even if it was just coffee. Even if he was very handsome. And had really great hair.

His name was Chase. He looked like a Chase. Chases had hefty jaw lines and a lot of hair product in their really great hair. She figured it was just customer service, being handsome and flirtatious. Trying to reel her in or take out a loan or something. Maybe, if you do a job like that for long enough, you forget to switch it off. Maybe he just doesn’t know how not to flirt. But Chase flirting with her made her wonder if she should dust off the cobwebs and flirt back. After all, he was very handsome. And had really great hair.

It also helped, because it took her mind off things. Financial things. How-are-we-going-to-afford-to-pay-the-bills things. Things that she would find herself thinking about in the times when she shouldn’t be thinking about anything. Her mind wandered like that. The store closure had hit them hard, and Darren’s medical bills made things difficult financially. They’d sold the store building to pay off a chunk of it, but it wasn’t worth much any more, making the store closure all the more difficult. It was all difficult, honestly.

And she knew he wasn’t okay. He never said he wasn’t, but after 29 years of marriage, you don’t really need to. He was quieter these days. Always reading the newspaper or listening to the radio. But the socializing had slowly evaporated over time. Should she push him? Or was that controlling? It was hard not to be controlling with someone who would sit down in the kitchen in the morning and not get up until the evening. It’s not like he could go bowling anymore. She knew it was difficult for him since the amputation but life was always difficult. And it was tiring, walking for two all the time.

For three, if she was being honest. Because there was also her eldest: Nora. The girl was just driftwood, no drive. Honestly, for her, the store closing down was probably the best thing for her. Get her out of her comfort zone. She could have been a doctor, Nora. Always smart enough. She had Denise’s head for numbers and Darren’s ability to make things look easy. But she didn’t want to be a doctor, she didn’t want to even go to college, because she was afraid of not being the smartest in the room. The same way that when she and her friend had that chance to go down to Cedar Rapids, she turned it down. She always acts like she’s too good for Le Mars, Iowa, but that’s how she likes it. She’s afraid of being somewhere she isn’t too good. Needs to be a big fish in a small pond. So, hopefully the job at Western Haulage will help her find her confidence.

And maybe find a man. Because the clock’s ticking and young kids these days don’t appreciate such things, not like Denise’s generation did. Nora was always pretty enough. Effortlessly pretty. Not like some of them these days, always at the gym, spending a week’s wages on a shopping spree in Sioux City. No, Nora liked to pretend she paid her appearance no mind. She was vain, she’d struggle to walk past a mirror without smiling at it, but she never worked out for fear of admitting she was vain. Curvy, cute and self-consciously casual. Most men in town would be punching above their weight with Nora. But nothing ever. Never even brought a boy home. That’s the thing about kids, they think they’re so much cooler than their parents but their generation spend a lot less time chasing and being chased by boys than Denise’s.

Maybe it was that Paisley. Lovely girl. Kinda fat; but nice as pie. Problem was, as far as Denise saw it, she held Nora back. The two girls had known each other since that teacher committed suicide. Mr… no, Denise couldn’t remember the name. But days like that can have an effect on someone. Leaves scars that nobody can see but you only know are there when you rub your hand against it. And they can push people to finding comfort and solace, a safe place. Nora found that in Paisley, and Paisley found that in pie. Now, she wasn’t ever a thin child, but Denise was fairly sure that her eating must have been a defense mechanism. And from the size of her these days, she was still very defensive. She could lose 80lbs and still be less attractive than Nora. And never wearing clothes that fit. The cuts she chose were always wrong for her body shape. But the two of them don’t seem to care about any of this and maybe that’s enough.

The younger daughter, Leanne, was better. She didn’t have a crutch as a sidekick or a sidekick as a crutch. She invited boys over growing up and now she was happily married to one. It’s not perfect. No kids - yet - though Denise suspected that there may be a medical reason. She had overheard them talking about IVF but she’d never say anything like that to her mom. Sounded expensive. But, by and large, things were good for those two. They had their own place, the fiance had a good job, accounting or something boring but well-paid, out in Sioux City. Which reminded Denise, maybe she could stop by and meet up with Leanne after Chase. Unless Chase would invite her for coffee afterwards. He really did have such great hair.

Maybe a bit of make-up. Wear a nice top, something with a more formal fabric but with a flattering cut. Though fewer cuts were flattering these days. The stress of the past six months had seen Denise up to a size 16. She’d never been a size 16 on bottom. The genetic donor to Nora’s good looks and natural shape, Denise had been an attractive woman all her life. She didn’t get approached the way she used to, but she could still turn heads on boys young enough to be her son. Well, until the past year or so, where time and a bit of stress-eating had made their presence known. It wasn’t just Paisley that had found comfort in food, it seems.


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“So, I can drive?”

Nora asked, trying to hide a smug smirk.

They were in his makeshift office by the side of the yard. He was sitting in a chair that squeaked every time he leant over to pull his mug of steaming instant coffee-infused water to lips. There was good coffee near reception but the walk would make him sweaty. So he squeaked the chair and grabbed the mug again and smiled.

“You passed the tests, you got the license. Yeah, you can drive. You know, you actually drive well for a…”

“Girl?”

“...for someone who sits so low in the seat. We’ll get you started tomorrow. Come in at 6 and you’ll be making your first solo truck journey”

Chesney had been smiling all day about this. Truthfully, Chesney smiled all day about most things. It seemed just a sensible place to rest his lips, upturned at either end. But he’d been smiling through this day more than most. The new girl getting her license.

Not in a creepy way. Chesney would never over-step. He just enjoyed seeing people succeed. And yes, she was attractive. If you were into shapely hips, a narrow waist, a substantial ass and notable breasts. And if you were a little less demure than Chesney, maybe the joy wasn’t in seeing her succeed, but seeing that smile, lop-sided as if afraid to commit to a full beam, across her pretty face. But Chesney wasn’t that kinda guy. Did he steal a glace when she jumped up and down in delight, before remembering her affected disinterest, stopping and then sliding her top down? Yeah, he was only human after all. And was he glad that this young girl, one of the best looking women he’d seen in this town, had decided to work under him? Of course he was. And did he spend his days, trying to engrave all the above images in his mind for later, after his wife was asleep and he was alone with his right hand? He couldn’t deny it. But Chesney was mainly just glad that she was succeeding.

“What will I be taking?”

“We’ll start you off easy…”

“I don’t need easy, I can do…”

“Trust me, I know you can. But this is your first, and we can build from there. You remember the site in Milwaukee? It’s just taking some empty pallets over to them. Simple 7 hours each way, but if you have any trouble, just ask for Chesney on the old radio and I’ll sort you out. And well done Nora! Now you start trucking”

Chesney’s smile grew wider as the conversation continued. She feigned disinterest, but he knew otherwise. She was a natural driver. It’s not a tricky job once you get the hang of it, but for some, it can take a while. Nora, on the other hand, picked things up quickly. Maybe she was a trucker in a past life. Chesney didn’t believe in such things, but his mom believed in it adamantly. Of course, she was crazy and would have been locked up if Le Mars had a place for her, but he did sometimes wonder. Either way, he gave it six months before the new girl was talking like one of the guys. And the fact that she was picking it up so quickly, and that a pretty girl was readily complimented on doing just that, meant that she was secretly loving it. Even if she would steadfastly refuse to admit it to a soul.

And Chesney’s smile reached full wattage as she finally turned to leave. Wearing tight jeans, he could watch the rhythmic bounce of her ass. Had it always been that rounded, that filling of the material, Chesney couldn’t remember. And he would have thought that he would remember. But he didn’t complain as he smiled and took photos in his mind for later.


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“Admit it, you enjoy it!” Paisley giggled as Winona Ryder dances in the snow caused from the shavings of Edward Scissorhands’ ice carvings. The curtains were closed and the quilt was up to their chins. Nora’s one chin and Paisley’s two.

“I don’t. It’s just a job” Nora replied defensively. “What about you? Do you enjoy yours?”

“Not really, it’s kinda boring. But there are perks, I guess…” Paisley smiled as she put the spoon of ice cream into her mouth. The second creased itself into clarity as the smile appeared.

“Yeah, but I’m getting those perks too and I get to drive a truck” Nora replied, smiling back as the mocha almond fudge ice cream hit the ridges on the roof of her mouth while she slid the spoon back out.

“So you admit that you do enjoy it!”

“Yeah, whatever”

Nora slid her head to the side, resting it on her smaller friend’s. It felt comfortable there. The whole evening did. This had been the fourth night in a row. Nobody at home seemed to mind. Her mom was preoccupied with financial stuff, as she always was. Her dad was happy and content just sitting at the table and… being dad. So Nora saw no problem with spending more time with Paisley.

“Anyway, I should probably eat less of this stuff?” Nora said, still looking at her friend. They both knew Edward Scissorhands off by heart at this point, and could recite it verbatim should the unlikely circumstance call for it. One of the joys of spending so much time with Paisley.

“Dental work?”

“No, ummm… just should probably lay off the ice cream a bit”

“Why?”

It was mainly for Paisley that Nora was spending more time. Sure, it was especially nice and calming, especially with the test this week and with the house having that uneasy quiet when things aren’t okay but nobody wants to directly address the fact. And she did enjoy spending time with her best friend of ten years. But it was mainly about providing support for Paisley. To be there for her. When Nora had been asked if they would continue hanging out, Nora saw that as a cry for help and insisted on proving to Paisley that she wouldn’t stop being in each others’ company. Also, tomorrow was Nora’s first job and it was an overnight one, so spending the day under Paisley’s quilt for the four days preceding that was the smart thing to do.

“Why do you think?”

“Dental work, I just said…”

“Considering you’re so smart, you’re pretty dumb Nora. I’m… nevermind. But, I should probably save some for tomorrow” Paisley said, putting the spoon in the container and putting it to one side. “But I might not be getting ice cream next time”.

“But it’s the only reason I hang out with you. For cheap ice cream” Nora said, watching Vincent Price on the screen now.

“Don’t worry Nor, I’ll still get you discounted ice cream. One one condition. I’ll do it, but only if you take photos on your journey”

“Of Milwaukee? It’s really nothing special Paiz…”

“Please. For me”

Nora didn’t understand why. Maybe she was a bit jealous. Both girls had applied for both jobs after all. And as much as Nora was initially annoyed about not getting the Wells’ job, maybe Paisley wanted the haulage one. To get the chance to travel. Or maybe Paisley was just trying to keep the pair of them close still, even as they stopped working together, which was a cute thought.

Another option, though it was one that Nora hadn’t thought of, was that Paisley was worried about Nora. Nora feeling left out. Nora being cut out. It didn’t dawn on Nora that this was an option because that wasn’t the dynamic that Nora had in her head. Nora was the older sister, and she looked after Paisley. The idea that Paisley was worrying about Nora didn’t cross her mind.

“Fine, I’ll take photos. For you”

“Thank you! And in return, I’ll let you have the rest of my ice cream” Paisley said, grabbing the container and passing it over to Nora.

This was a change to the normal dynamic. Paisley had never not finished the food in front of her before. All this change happening in both of their lives, but this was unexpected. It couldn’t be that Paisley was, for the first time in her life, watching what she ate? Could it? Could she be thinking about the ‘d’ word? Diet, that is, not the other d’ word. Nora put her spoon into Paisley’s ice cream and eyed her best friend suspiciously. She didn’t know how she felt about all this.

But she found the cold sweetness of the Peanut Butter Chocolate certainly soothed her subconscious about the morning’s trip.
 

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