Jolene came into the living room and shook Nick’s hand. “I’m Jolene, Julie’s sister. Also not named for royalty.”
“Named for the song, right?”
Jolene sighed loudly. “That’s me.”
Julie decided it was time to make a getaway, and said goodnight to her family. Once she and Nick were in his car, she looked for a topic of conversation that wasn’t related to kids and siblings. Then she gave up. It was what they had in common, after all.
“Patty is doing well, I hope?”
“She is. We parked her in bed and she’s forbidden to get up for any reason but using the bathroom. She’s getting all her meals in bed, and we’re changing Jameson and bringing him to her. She thinks we’re going a little too overboard, but we don’t think so.”
“American women in general think they need to be superwomen after giving birth. It isn’t like that in most of the world. In some cultures, women are forbidden to leave the house for a month. It sounds regressive, but that kind of rule kept new moms from doing heavy work and their newborns safe from other people’s germs. And in a lot of places, female relatives take care of all household duties for weeks. Here, we kick you out of the hospital in a day or two, and then you might go back to work in six weeks. Sometimes less, for jobs that don’t have benefits. I’ve known waitresses to return in a week, which is crazy.” She paused. “I’m doing it again. I can’t stop talking about birth and babies and women’s issues. Sorry.”
“No, it’s good that you’re passionate about what you’re doing. But it’s strange that you started out with art history and then jumped to nursing. Pretty big switch.”
“Oh, I love art, too. But to be honest, when I embarked on that road I was a different person.” She thought about Derek, and the plans they had for a traditional family life. She had anticipated a life more like her sister’s had been. They were going to have several children and she wouldn’t work outside the home after the first one was born, or at least not until the youngest was past early childhood. She remembered Derek assuring her she didn’t need to worry about money, and she remembered her perfect trust in him. Much like Jolene had in Ken. She shuddered, thinking just how close she had come to tying herself to a man who couldn’t be trusted.
“Different how?” Nick headed out of town and toward Springfield and nightlife beyond The Clipper.
“Not sure talking about past relationships is really a better topic than going on and on about babies,” she said lightly. “But I was engaged to a man who loved the idea of having a cultured wife who would stay home and have a lot of babies. Kind of like Jolene. The engagement ended and I had to be practical. I’m lucky that I had another passion to turn to besides art.”
“Nursing will pay the bills,” he agreed. “You’re lucky, though. I don’t have any particular passion for what I’m doing. But I’m pretty good at it and it pays well. I can expect to have a pretty decent career as a software engineer.”
“I’ll be fine once I’m done with nursing school. I’m going for the advanced degree, too. So money shouldn’t be a big issue for me eventually. I just have to get through the next few years, and I’m freaking exhausted all the time.”
“From school?”
“From everything. The classes are demanding. Sometimes I’m up all night for a birth. I have clinicals. And then on top of that, there’s living with four children. The two oldest are pretty easy but the youngest one demands a lot of care and attention, and pretty soon there’s going to be another one.”
“Is your brother-in-law helpful? Brad tries, but he works killer hours. He’s just not around very much.”
“I don’t want to get into my sister’s private life, but she’s pretty much on her own right now, which is part of why I moved in. The other reason being that I’m broke and will be for several years. I still have to borrow for tuition, but my living expenses for now are almost nothing.”
“Sucks. I have so much college debt. It’s unreal. Even with decent pay, it would take forever to pay it all off if I were on the hook for an apartment and utilities. I feel lucky that Brad and Patty are letting me bunk in their basement for a year or two. It’s not bad. I have my own bathroom, and I got a microwave and coffeemaker and stuff to go down there, and it’s fairly private, but I don’t want to stay there forever.”
She noted Nick was a good driver, not speeding or showing off, but not driving like a grandma, either. She appreciated that in a man. Derek had driven like he owned the roads and everyone else on them was there expressly to prevent him from driving as fast as he wanted from Point A to Point B. Nick drove a sporty stick shift, and his sleek car seemed like an extension of his body as he shifted from one gear to another. Julie had no idea how to drive such a car. She drove a tiny used economy car.
“A basement space sounds great. I live in a former den with a futon, desk and dresser. And the little ones walk in whenever they want to. Tori is 4. She slips into bed with me several mornings a week, just wanting company. It’s sweet, but I’m so freaking exhausted sometimes.” She realized her coffee was wearing off, and the fatigue was coming back with a vengeance. “So. Freaking. Exhausted. It’s just going to get worse when No. 5 arrives in a few months.”
“Yikes. I can’t even imagine. Even if Patty and Brad have a third, I’ll likely be gone by then. I don’t want to put my life on hold for too long. And living with family feels like life on hold, doesn’t it?”
“A little. I went from student life to what almost feels like single mom life, without having a single baby.”
“Is Jolene single? I thought she was married to a software engineer?”
Julie bit her lip. “Actually, they’re separated. I’ve not wanted to talk about it.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. That’s a tough situation.”
“It really is. Nobody is going to hire her in her present condition, and even if they did, she’s been out of the job market for a while now. I don’t see her getting a job that pays enough to cover daycare, let alone living expenses. So yeah, not a great situation. Her soon-to-be ex is still covering the bills, but she feels vulnerable.”
“If her ex is a software engineer, he should apply at Fairview Manufacturing,” Nick said as he found an empty space behind the bar and parked. She could hear the music clearly even from the parking lot. “The pay is pretty decent and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have an opening pretty soon.”
Julie’s stomach dropped and she felt a terrible weight drop onto her shoulders. “I have a really awful suspicion that you already work with her husband. His name is Ken.”
“Holy shit,” Nick said. “I don’t know if I should say anything else.” They sat in the dark lot behind the bar, facing each other. “But I feel really bad for your sister. I don’t know if his job is going to last much longer. I think she’s right to feel vulnerable.”
It was all suddenly too much for Julie. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep for days, and her worries about her sister came to the fore. First the tears started falling, and then her shoulders began heaving with quiet sobs she tried unsuccessfully to hold back. Nick took her hand.
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. Your sister and her kids seem so nice.”
“If only I’d started out with nursing, I’d be done by now, and I’d have enough money that I could help her out. But no, I had to get a stupid degree in art history instead. I feel so useless.”
“You aren’t useless. You bailed me out. You’re helping your sister in every way you can. But you can’t be expected to fix everything for everybody.”
Julie used the back of the hem of her long T-shirt to mop carefully around her eyes, knowing the heavy makeup she’d applied was probably ruined. Much like the date.
“I’m a really fun date, aren’t I?” she said.
“We don’t have to go dancing. I don’t think you’re in the mood for it. I could take you home if you wanted, or we could just talk.”
“I feel so emba
rrassed. I can’t walk in right now like this. Jolene would know something was wrong, and I hate lying. Are you sure you don’t mind if we just talk for a bit? About anything.”
“I know you want to change the subject, and I will, but first of all, who the hell leaves a pregnant wife and four kids?”
Julie sniffled. The date was already ruined — she couldn’t make it any worse. Besides, it was a big relief to finally talk to someone about it.
“They wanted a big family, and they’ve had a kid every two years since they got married, almost like clockwork. They planned this baby, but he didn’t know she was pregnant until right after he moved out. It happened that fast. Try for a baby one week, leave the next week. When she told him she was pregnant, she thought he’d come to his senses, but he hasn’t. And as far as we can tell, there isn’t another woman, and he doesn’t seem to be gay, and he won’t talk to her at all. We frankly have no freaking clue what the hell is going on with that guy.”
“Well, I kinda have a suspicion, if you want to hear it.” And then he did the hair move, so Julie knew he felt uncomfortable about something.
“Are you serious?”
“My college roommate was addicted to opiods. It’s crossed my mind that Ken might be.”
“Why would you think that?” She felt a strange mix of dread and excitement. An addiction would be awful, but it would also offer answers.
“I didn’t know my freshman roommate before the start of school. We were matched up by computer. He seemed cool at first, but I started noticing sometimes he’d seem confused. Like he’d finish off leftover pizza but later he’d look in the fridge and wonder where his pizza went. He’d fall asleep in the middle of talking to you. And he got to where he’d only go to class once in a while. His parents finally pulled him out of school and pushed him into rehab. I don’t know how he’s doing. We didn’t stay in touch.”
“And what are you seeing in Ken, exactly?”
“Kind of similar stuff. He’s missing deadlines. He’s forgetting stuff. You can have a conversation with him one day, and everything seems good, but then you try to refer to what you talked about later, and it’s like he thinks it’s the first time you’re talking about it. I’m working on a lot of the same projects and honestly, I’ve been doing like 90 percent of stuff, and he just lets me handle more and more of it.”
“He was in a car accident a year ago. I know he was on some heavy painkillers for that,” Julie said. “It makes me wonder.” She grasped both Nick’s hands.
“You won’t say anything to anyone, will you? You can’t imagine how catastrophic it would be for Jolene if her husband lost his job.”
“I’m not going to say anything. It’s not like I have proof. But honestly, I’ve heard a few people speculate that he might be drinking. Only I’d know if he were drinking. I’d smell it, as closely as I’m working with him. It isn’t alcohol.”
“Maybe he knows it’s just a matter of time before all hell breaks loose, and that’s why he separated. Maybe he’s trying to spare his family some of the fallout. Until a few months ago, I’d have sworn my sister’s marriage was totally fine.”
“Maybe? I don’t know, but I truly hope for the best.” He pulled Julie to him and at first she thought he was going to try to kiss her, which was the last thing she wanted right now. Instead, he pulled her into a hug, and his hand gently stroked the hair at the nape of her neck. They just quietly held each other, and she felt just a little of the weight lift from her heart.
“I’d have been a lousy ‘80s boyfriend,” he finally said. “I like your hair simple and down. I can barely get my fingers through your hair tonight,” he joked.
“I usually just put it in a ponytail or up in some kind of messy bun. More practical with the schedule I keep. This was the first time I’ve done my hair for a night of fun in … ages. Or it was supposed to be a night of fun, anyway.”
“Not that I’ve been a lot of fun. ‘Hey, let’s go out! I’ll tell you why I think your sister’s husband is on drugs!’” Not my smoothest move.”
“It’s almost a relief, honestly, just to have a clue. I’m going to find the right moment and talk to Jolene. Maybe she can call his doctor.”
“So, here we are at the bar. Do you want to go in and dance, or do you want to sit in the car, or do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Pretty sure I don’t look very presentable after crying like that.”
“If you kinda wipe around your eyes you’ll be fine,” he said. “Everybody in there is probably drunk, anyway. They’re not going to notice.”
“Do you want to dance?” she asked.
“Honestly, I just thought you’d want to dance, because we kinda had a moment dancing with the kids together.”
“Let’s skip the dancing, then, unless you’ve got a baby in the back seat you need me to get to sleep.”
“Deal,” he said. “OK, I’m gonna change the subject. Let’s talk about … art. You’re an expert in it, right?”
“Well, I’m not sure I’m an expert. I love it, though.”
“Who is your favorite artist?
“I would have to say Vermeer.”
“Vermeer. And why him?”
Julie pulled out her phone and did an image search for her favorite painting. “This is my favorite painting of all time. It’s called ‘Het Melkmeisje’ or ‘The Milkmaid,’” she said.
“I think I mentioned I’m named for my Dutch grandmother. So I’ve always been kinda interested in Dutch culture. And I love this painting. It was done during the Dutch golden age. Rembrandt was another one from that time. Vermeer was just a little older than him. A lot of painters were working on religious scenes or portraits of rich people, but Vermeer did a lot of domestic scenes, and he did them better than anyone, in my opinion. You know this maid didn’t pay a commission to have her portrait done. Of course, he did some rich people and religious scenes and some landscapes, too, but I love that so many of his paintings were of ordinary people doing things like reading books or writing letters. And a lot of them were in the same room, using the same props. He must have just posed people using the furniture and tablecloths and knick-knacks he had around the house. And then there’s this lady, just pouring some milk over bread. Probably trying to use up some stale bread. The Dutch have a reputation as terrible cheapskates,” she said.
“If they ate milk mixed with stale bread, it’s no wonder you never see Dutch restaurants,” he said.
“Well, it would be mostly potatoes and sausage if there were.”
“I’m down for that,” he said. “I know a really terrible little restaurant that serves nothing but greasy, starchy stuff to a disreputable-looking clientele. You want to get something like that?”
“You talking about Vinnie’s?”
“That’s the place,” he said.
“Ha, my mother always said that place should be condemned. She would never take us there.”
“Prepare to have your mind blown,” Nick said. “Finest cuisine in the state, except for literally every other restaurant there is.” They put their seat belts back on and he started the car. On the way, she did what repairs she could to her makeup, wiping off the black streaks with a tissue. When they pulled up, she opened the lighted mirror on the passenger side and groaned at the way the unflattering light showed no mercy for her red eyes and smeared makeup. She swiped on some more red lipstick. Maybe it would draw attention from her eyes, she thought.
“Don’t worry about it. You look perfect for Vinnie’s,” he said. “Trust me.”
Vinnie’s was as bad as her mother had claimed. The walls looked like they hadn’t been painted in decades and probably hadn’t been. Rips in the vinyl booths had been repaired with duct tape. It was dim, as half the overhead lights had burned out and nobody had ever bothered to replace them. But Julie was thankful for the dim lighting.
The waitress wore a dingy polyester dress and looked exactly the way a waitress working at a greasy spoon late on a Saturday night s
hould look, Julie thought. With her beehive hairdo, her look was about 20 years more retro than Julie’s.
The place offered a full line of deep-fried delicacies, breakfast all day and potatoes in just about every way they could possibly be prepared. Hash browns. Fries. Mashed potatoes. Fried potatoes.
Nick was speculating out loud about the difficult decision between going for breakfast or dinner. “I usually either get the eggs, hashed browns and sausage links with a side of pancakes or the chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, but their tenderloins are great, too. One of those that the meat is three times as wide as the bun. Sooo good,” he said.
Julie knew if she tried to order a small salad, it would probably just be a bowl of wilted iceberg lettuce with a chunk of pale tomato and some oily dressing. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When in Vinnie’s, do as Nick does. She always felt embarrassed to order anything at a restaurant but salad or something like it, imagining that people were judging her for eating something unhealthy when she obviously needed to lose 20 pounds. But it’s not like Nick was ever going to call her again after tonight, anyway. What the hell, she decided, and ordered the tenderloin.
“What sides do you want? You get two,” the lady said.
“Fries,” she said. She perused the list of sides. Macaroni and cheese. Coleslaw. Baked beans. Vegetable of the day. That was probably something like canned green beans, so no. Mashed potatoes. Well, she didn’t want to eat both fries and mashed potatoes. Or, rather, she kinda did, but she wouldn’t.
“Uh, coleslaw,” she said. Technically, that was a vegetable dish. Practically health food.
“I’ll have two over-easy eggs, two sausage links and hash browns. And a side of pancakes,” Nick said. “Make it three sausage links.”
“Do either of you want coffee?”
They both declined. Julie felt she’d had more than enough of the stuff in the last 24 hours. She went with a diet cola and Nick went with orange juice.
Julie looked around the room. There was an older man sitting at the counter, drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. There was a couple in a back booth. That was it. They probably did a lot more business in the morning, she thought. This wasn’t the type of place many couples went on a Saturday night. And that was fine with her. She wasn’t in the mood to be seen.
Perfect Fit (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 4) Page 6