by Chase, Diane
“Paul, it’s Juliette Prescott.” She bit her lower lip and eyed the soft ocean waves sparkling under a brilliant blue sky.
“How are you?” His briskness surprised her. Maybe she misread his personality.
“Good. Do you have a minute?”
“Not really. It’s been a bad day. What can I do for you?”
Juliette straightened. “It’s a little silly, but I just wondered if you had ideas for finding the woman who helped me.”
“Oh. Can’t really think of anything, but I’ll keep you in my prayers. Hold on.” The excited voices of several men sounded in the background until Paul returned to the line. “Juliette, I’m sorry. I need to go. The boat nearly sank, and some folks are here inspecting her. I’ll call you if I think of something about the woman.”
“Sure, I’m sorry. Go. Thanks for your prayers.”
Juliette U-turned on the mostly deserted highway. On the way home, the traffic picked up. She thought about Paul and his boat catastrophe. As she neared Galveston, her own problems pressed in more. What was she going to do without the woman? Would the pastor over at the church be available today? Harry would leave for Los Angeles tomorrow or Friday. She needed help to reach him.
From the boulevard, she turned on 19th Street and drove toward the house. In front, Lexi and Lauren were climbing into the backseat of a SUV. Rather than pull in the driveway, she parked behind the vehicle and scurried to the driver’s door.
A blonde wearing big sunglasses rolled down the window. “You must be Juliette. I’m Mel Wycliffe, Lauren’s aunt.”
“Nice to meet you.” Juliette looked at the preteens. “Where are you guys off to this morning?”
“Didn’t Lexi tell you?” Mel replied for them. “The girls are staying with us until Sunday.”
Juliette swallowed her surprise. “Oh, have a great time. Guess I’ll see you when you get back,” she said to Lexi who frowned at her.
“I’m coming back, too.” Lauren leaned over the seat.
Mel looked at the blond head next to hers. “We didn’t discuss that, did we?”
“Yes, we did. You said okay. Remember?”
Mel looked exasperated and raised her brows at Juliette. “She’s suppose to be staying with us.”
“It’s fine if they’re here,” Juliette said, genuinely glad for the company. “If her mother doesn’t mind.”
“She doesn’t.” Lauren didn’t look up this time from the cell phone she and Lexi were ogling. “Can we leave yet, Aunt Mel? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, well nice to meet you, Juliette. Looks like the dynamic duo will return on Sunday. Anyway, my husband’s waiting on us for lunch. He and the boys, three and ten—”
“Aunt Mel, let’s go!” both girls chimed in back, half giggling.
Juliette waved as they drove off and strolled back inside the gate. For all the times she and Harry talked about a family, more and more she actually longed to have one.
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Juliette met for a half-hour with Pastor Jason at Lighthouse Community Church. Afterward, as she pulled out of the parking lot, she glanced at the white cross on the front lawn.
“It costs a lot,” he’d said.
That wasn’t all. She should pray, be patient, and look for opportunities to witness. However, nothing changed the bottom line, the source of her discontent: she and Harry were unequally yoked.
The phrase pounded her brain all the way home. Skipper danced in the driveway when she arrived. Juliette scooped her up and strolled to the front porch. Her cell phone rang in her purse, and thinking it might be Harry, she settled into a wicker chair.
It turned out to be Trina from the Bible study.
“Hey, Juliette. My seminar was cancelled this afternoon, and I wondered if you’re free for lunch.”
“That sounds great. Did you want to meet somewhere, or I could pick you up?”
“I’ll come by your place. We could walk to the Strand. You’re close enough, right? Say about noon?”
“Perfect.” Juliette’s anger subsided as they talked a little longer. At least she wouldn’t be alone today.
When she headed through the front door, Connie hobbled downstairs dressed in sweats and a dingy white t-shirt. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and her short hair was greasy and uncombed.
Juliette smiled. “Kind of quiet with the girls gone.” She put her purse on the foyer table and followed Connie to the kitchen.
“Yeah.” The woman smelled foul even from a few feet away.
“So, how are the book edits coming?” Juliette asked from the dining room doorway.
Connie shrugged at the refrigerator and didn’t turn around. “You know deadlines.”
Juliette sighed. “I do. Terrible. Hey, I was thinking with Lexi gone, you might want to go—”
Connie was gulping a bottled water and held up her hand. “Not possible.” She shuffled to the doorway.
Juliette stepped aside. “Okay, I understand.”
“Thanks,” Connie said and disappeared around the corner to go upstairs.
What’s wrong with her? No wonder her kid has an attitude.
Juliette managed to get some work in before she had to take a shower. A little before twelve, Trina arrived. They toured the house, except Connie’s room, and strolled to a trendy restaurant a couple of blocks away.
“This is such a nice treat.” Trina barely looked at the menu before she waved the waitress to their table. “You have no idea the drudgery that is my life.” A pretty girl, probably late twenties with chin-length blond hair, she smiled. “Are you ready to order? I recommend the red snapper unless you have something else in mind.”
“That’s fine.” Juliette closed the unread menu.
Trina placed their orders and asked for a margarita, no salt, ASAP. “Sure you don’t want one?”
“No, thanks,” Juliette said to the waitress.
“I’m celebrating the rare freedom of an afternoon off. Although, I guess you’re not exactly on vacation down here yourself.”
“Right, but I can’t imagine how demanding medical school must be.” Juliette looked around at the lunch crowd, a mix of tourists and business people.
“Everything okay?” Trina asked, following her gaze.
“Oh, sorry, yes. Actually, you know what? No, but I’ll live. Let me get your take on this.” She told Trina about the pastor’s advice and wanting to meet with her and Harry. “What do you think about us being unequally yoked. Have you ever heard that term?”
Trina scrunched her nose. “Ya think?”
Juliette stiffened at the girl’s rude tone. “Oh.”
Trina’s face softened a little. “I’d follow whatever Jason advises. He really tries to keep it real, Juliette. And you’re new to the faith. I’m glad you sought his council.” She sipped the green drink.
“New is right. I have no idea how to manage my life anymore. Ever since my hand was healed, my life’s turned upside down.” Juliette registered the surprise on Trina’s face and instantly regretted the slip of words that turned so many people against her.
“What do you mean your hand was healed?” Trina tilted her head and wore an expression similar to the nurse’s at the emergency room.
“I was in an accident out on Bluewater Highway a few weeks ago when that bad storm blew in.” The promise to God to never forget flashed in her brain. “I opened the door, and the wind slammed it shut on my hand, sliced my fingers off. A tiny, African-American lady shows up out of nowhere.” Juliette folded her hands in her lap when Trina looked at them. “She said a prayer and…I can’t explain it, Trina. They were healed.”
Their fanciful meal arrived. Juliette waited to see if Trina prayed, but she sipped her margarita. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
Irritation pricked Juliette’s nerves. “That’s right. I just gave it.”
“No, about your hand.” Trina smiled.
“That’s what I mean.” Juliette held her gaze n
ot returning the smile.
Trina flinched and scraped the salsa off her fish. “It could be any number of things. You might have been knocked unconscious during the impact, had a dream or hallucination from the trauma.”
Juliette rested her arms on the table suddenly losing her appetite. “Or it’s as I told you. There was blood everywhere. All over the car, my clothes, a towel.”
“I wouldn’t be telling everyone that part if I were you.” She separated spears of asparagus and didn’t look up.
“What? About the blood?” Juliette leaned in trying to catch her gaze, but Trina’s interest went from the food to four women settling in at the adjacent table.
She finally looked back. “Don’t take this wrong. It’s just a little far-fetched. How can I say this? God just doesn’t do things like that.” She sat back. “There are other more plausible explanations. Insisting that kind of fantasy is true won’t do much to win your fiancé to Christ.” She grimaced and barred her teeth. “My goodness, girl. He’ll run the other way.”
“But it is the truth. I believe he can understand.”
Trina shook her head. “What reasonable person possibly could? Think about it. Would you?”
The young woman was almost a doctor and already a Christian. Juliette felt outdone on both counts. She picked at the red snapper while Trina recounted cases of hysteria straight out of the medical texts.
Another half hour. She could suffer through anything for that length of time. Sooner or later the worst meal of her life would end and maybe the Bible study, too.
****
After lunch, she was lying down on the library sofa, half asleep. She missed Harry’s call, but listened to his apology on her voicemail. He mentioned calling from the Los Angeles Airport, complained of a terrible sinus infection, but was heading to Galveston after he landed at Houston’s Hobby Airport about four o’clock.
He’d be in about six if traffic stacked up like it usually did. She snuggled Skipper at her side and sighed, giving up on resting the weariness in her mind. She needed to get some work done and hoped to go to church tomorrow. And why shouldn’t she, as far as church went.
The house was too quiet with the girls gone and Connie sequestered in her room ninety percent of the time. Juliette got a bottled water and leashed up the dog. When a wall of heat and the beaming sun greeted them at the front door, she considered staying inside. With Skipper straining the leash, she noticed the Golightlys on their front porch. They waved and rather than wave in return, she headed that way.
All through the years, she passed the Dutch-blue Victorian home like it was invisible. Out of habit, even this summer, she overlooked its subtly patriotic garden with the remnants of a live oak shading white impatiens and red caladiums on one side and a white crepe myrtle, red roses, and blue salvia gracing a garden on the other.
The porch, smaller than theirs but cozy, had a bench with a red-and-white striped cushion, a small, iron table and three chairs with navy-blue cushions.
Peggy smiled and stood up. “Good afternoon, you two.”
Juliette stayed at the base of the steps. Was the couple really as open to the late-blooming friendship as they seemed? If so, they hadn’t intruded on her privacy.
“Do you have time for lemonade?” She hopped up and pulled a chair out before Juliette answered.
“I’m fine,” Juliette said, lifting her water bottle.” She sat in the chair and settled Skipper at her feet.
A quiet man with an intense gaze, Asher smiled. “Hot, isn’t it? Suppose to set some record today.”
“Oh, yeah? It feels like it,” Juliette said, already feeling the dampness in her sundress.
“Did you tell your mama and daddy about church last Sunday?” Peggy asked.
“More or less.” It seemed in bad form to share that disappointment.
Yesterday her mother called with a question from the florist. On the speakerphone with her father listening, Juliette told them about attending church with the neighbors they ignored for three decades. Tripping over her words, she finally spit out that she accepted Christ as her Savior.
“What does that mean to you?” her father had asked brusquely. He sometimes put her on the spot with philosophical issues.
“Er, hum, I’ll let you know,” she responded, genuinely stumped.
“Of everyone, I really want Harry onboard, so to speak.” She brushed back her hair that needed a good washing.
Asher cleared his throat. “It’s up to God to draw a man, young lady.”
Juliette searched his weathered face and bright blue eyes. “I want him to know what we know.”
“Then pray for him,” Asher said, his gruff voice somewhat amusing. “Testify and leave the rest to God.”
Should she address him as Asher or Mr. Golightly? “I told him about the way God filled my heart. He doesn’t seem interested in that or what happened at Christmas Bay, which is really another story.”
“What happened at Christmas Bay?” the Golightlys said in unison.
Encouraged by their interest, she began by reminding them of the sudden storm that day. Succinctly as possible, she detailed the healing of her hand.
Peggy’s eyes glistened with tears. “Oh, Juliette, honey, what a marvelous touch of God. Why didn’t you tell us when we got together?”
Juliette’s heart surged with joy. “You mean you believe me?”
Asher folded his hand over his wife’s resting on the table. “We believe with God all things are possible.” His eyes blazed, and his lips pursed into a thin line. “The day is coming when He will heal every disease, young lady.” The air seemed charged like it had the day of the accident when the woman prayed in the car. “And that day’s coming soon.”
“You mean the second coming of Christ?” Was Asher suggesting that hope was true? As a Christian, should she also believe it?
“Don’t get him started, honey,” Peggy said lightly. “You’ll be here all afternoon.”
Asher chuckled. “Something she needs to know nevertheless, right, Peg?”
“Hum, I’ll be interested to learn more about that.” Juliette waited a few polite minutes and sipped her water. “We need some exercise before I get back to work. Thanks for the break.”
The couple called out warm regards as she led the dog away from the house. She waved one last time before continuing down the sidewalk. At the corner, she curbed Skipper and eyed the Victorian homes much like her family’s. The sun baked her face and bare arms, but the thought of being penned up in the library working while Harry made his way to Galveston seemed worse.
Skipper tugged down the block, and Juliette followed. Asher’s words occupied her thoughts. Jesus coming again? Despite the blistering sun, she shivered and followed the dog’s lead to the next patch of grass.
Lately, every old thing in her life looked fresh. Born again, Pastor Jason told her after the service and this morning when they talked in his office. The two-story, historic homes looked different, the flowers in their gardens different, even the dog with her nose to the ground, different.
Only it wasn’t. She was. Salty tears pricked the rims of her eyes. What a waste not knowing the Golightlys all these years, and sadly, that was just a thimble-full of her regret.
****
The evening with Harry lasted until his cold medicine took effect. He took every bit of energy he had left to explain what a wonderful guy Brad Barrington was and how neither of them trusted Keith Graham. He started to talk about his financial obligations as a husband and doing whatever he had to short-term when his red-rimmed eyes became heavy and he headed without prompting to the master bedroom. Alone.
Long after, Juliette simmered about that kind of business destroying the dignity of women everywhere. They’d had this discussion many times before unrelated to the present circumstances, so she knew where he stood.
The law is the law. What about the drunk who kills a family in a car accident or anyone else who needs representation? Only, during those philosophica
l discussions, whether alone or with friends, they weren’t so divided in their values.
She knew where he stood on the idea of being the primary breadwinner. They agreed all along to have a family. Somehow her career fit in there, vague as the plan was to apply her doctorate to an occupation. Her grandmother’s inheritance that paid for most of her education would dry up before long.
Sitting alone in the seating alcove of the dining room and looking through the windows onto 19th Street, Juliette’s stomach tightened into a knot. She’d never really thought of herself as dependent on Harry. They just belonged together, and he had the greater earning potential, although she’d never even thought of it exactly in those terms.
They were just Harry and Juliette. Their relationship and financial arrangement didn’t have a lot of forethought. It just was. Or had been.
Chapter Eleven
Sunday morning, Harry announced he was leaving for Houston to rest up and do some work. They said goodbye in the driveway and Juliette went on to church. Afterward, she dropped a request in the prayer box for his salvation. Maybe someone who knew about these things had the words she didn’t.
She walked with the chattering congregation out to the parking lot. She might as well have stayed home. All during the service she thought how to reach her fiancé.
What if Paul Quinn explained what happened that day? He believed her and saw the blood. Calling him with such a request seemed awkward. As she slid across the hot seat, she realized there was someone closer to home. Lexi. She and Lauren should be back later today.
Juliette drove home with fresh hope. There was the prayer request, and with some coaching, the girl might be more forthcoming than she previously was around her mother.
She was surprised Connie’s car wasn’t in the driveway. No matter what her roommate said about being so busy, they should get out for dinner or a movie. Juliette strolled to the backdoor with an eye on the thunderclouds and stepped into the laundry room.