by Chase, Diane
Sunday morning, she woke at nine o’clock stiff from all the rest. It was so tempting to stay on the couch. Even dazed, she knew she’d survive the rest of the day better by attending the church service.
Still in her shorts from yesterday, Juliette wandered downstairs and onto the back patio. Fluffy clouds drifted across the brilliant blue sky, and birds chirped from the garage roof. How could such beauty co-exist with her anguish? Anyway, sad as she felt, the darkness that engulfed her so suddenly a few days ago seemed to have retreated a bit.
Inside, she put on a pot of coffee and checked her emails. One had come in from Lexi. No big news but she arrived in Brussels, liked her father’s apartment, and already met an American girl named Helen in the building. Juliette decided to reply after church when she was in a better frame of mind and could send some pictures.
Juliette felt shaky as she showered, dressed, and put on a little blush and mascara. It took all the strength she had and left none to tidy up. She abandoned the towel and make-up on the counter, left her bed unmade, and headed downstairs feeling like she’d like to curl up in bed or on the sofa.
There hadn’t been a knock on the front door that she heard. But through the thick glass, she could see the vague outlines of several people on the porch and hear their muffled voices. She stopped in the foyer and gasped when the key turned and the door swung open.
Her parents burst in and behind them two familiar figures, Sharon and George Oppenheim. The dog jumped up the legs of all four visitors.
“Oh, darling, please put her outside,” her mother said, holding her purse against her chest. Wearing a pale green, linen blouse that picked up her skin’s grayish hue and hung looser than usual on her shoulders, her mother accepted Juliette’s kiss on the cheek and made room for Daddy when he came alongside.
“The maid service is available on Sundays, you know,” she whispered to the floor, not knowing the half of it yet.
Harry’s parents hung near the entrance to the living room. With a forced smile, Sharon tugged the hem of her white blouse and clapped her gold sandal against the floor. Her husband, George, stepped across the foyer first and stiff as steel leaned in while clearing his throat.
“Good to see you, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t realize you all were coming.” Juliette scooped up the dog and deposited her on the porch, but the little thing scraped at the door as soon as it closed.
“George, what can I get you? Bottled water or a soda?” Daddy headed to the kitchen with Harry’s father quickly at his side.
“Evelyn, I’ve thought of that painting many times since we were here last,” Sharon said. She stepped to the arched entry joining the dining room and studied the large canvas, a colorful, 1930s beachscape where umbrellas and sunbathers dotted a sunlit shore. “You must get back to painting someday. I have a friend who’s plugged into shows around the state.”
Juliette’s mother shook her head and looped Sharon’s arm. “I don’t even remember painting it, dear. Let’s visit in the living room. We hoped to talk with you if that’s okay,” she said to Juliette with half a glance.
As soon as the two turned away, Juliette rolled her eyes and shuffled toward the living room. Obviously, they got wind of the break-up. Maybe now was good a time as any to un-do the wedding preparations. She sat at the game table by the front window.
Before sitting on the sectional sofa, her mother pounded the cushion and sent up a spray of dog hair. Sharon murmured and settled into the adjacent club chair. For a time, the two women discussed the pottery atop a low, built-in bookshelf and the shells heaped in a glass dish on the sofa table. Soon, the men wandered in through the library. Daddy passed out bottled water to the ladies and looking like he wished for another task, finally sat down.
With everyone ignoring her, Juliette rose to get a Diet Pepsi.
“Oh, darling, we were hoping all of us could talk,” her mother chirped.
“Yes, you mentioned that.”
“Sit down, please, Juliette.” Sharon cleared her throat. “This isn’t an easy conversation. Perhaps that’s why we’re all avoiding it.” She beamed at the others, and with sighs, they all nodded. “I talked to Harry on Thursday.”
Her mother glanced at Sharon who fluttered her eyes. “Juliette, when were you going to tell us about canceling the wedding? You know we’re suppose to meet Holly this week and poor Harry.”
Harry’s mother waved at her husband, his eyes glued to some spot on the ceiling, maybe the cobweb dangling from the fan. “George and I agree our son’s life is his own business. He’d never volunteer problems between you, of course. I had to drag it out of him, didn’t I, George? When I called last week, he just seemed so down…” She paused to sniffle. “We got to talking and…Help, someone.”
“I understand, Sharon,” Juliette said. “Harry and I discovered we’re headed different directions. Personally, I’m glad it’s this side of the wedding.” She looked from one to the other. “What exactly was the purpose of this gathering?”
Sharon eased out of the chair and hugged her waist by the side window. “I’ll say it if no one else will. Juliette, you’re making a mistake. That’s assuming you were serious about calling the wedding off. Were you?” She put one hand on her hip.
“Yes, to be blunt. Aren’t the details between Harry and me?” No eyes met hers so she shook her head.
“What if I know them?” Sharon asked.
Mother cleared her throat. “Yes, we all…Go ahead, Sharon. I think you know better what to say.”
“Thanks, Evelyn. We have your best interest at heart and our son’s. But the reasons he gave for dissolving your union seemed, well, ludicrous.”
“What would those be?” Juliette rubbed her moist palms on her dress.
“Not agreeing with his career decisions, moralizing about the law. George, can you add to that?” She gestured at her husband.
“You talked to him, Sharon. Go ahead. Spit it out.”
“Our family understands the law. I haven’t loved George’s clients in some cases, but I didn’t desert him. And we’re a Christian family in many respects. Harry suggested you’ve adopted some new, almost cultish devotion to religion. Really, Juliette. I thought you were smarter than that.” Sharon looked away at the library.
Outnumbered and stunned by the accusation, Juliette couldn’t think of a retort.
“Darling, I’m afraid Daddy and I have similar concerns.” Her mother’s voice, barely audible, trailed off with each word, and she fell back against the cushion as if they exhumed the last of her energy.
Juliette eyed her parents, but neither returned her gaze. “Mother…oh, never mind.”
Pressing his fingertips to his brow, Daddy sighed heavily. “A plethora of problems exist here, which, with all respect, Sharon, aren’t limited to the wedding. Whatever you’ve decided, Juliette, Mother and I support. However, in Harry’s conversation with his mother he mentioned you’ve changed course with your dissertation, extended it indefinitely. Is this true?”
“Indefinitely? No.” Juliette exhaled so long she felt like passing out. “But I’ve gotten permission from Dr. Cabot to explore another topic.”
“Darling, was not your intention to come here based on submitting a formal proposal at the end of August? That and tend to wedding details, a sabbatical, of sorts. I see no reason to stay if all that’s changed.” The veins on Daddy’s neck stood out like blue rivers, a match for Mother’s grayish pallor.
“Louis, the rest,” her mother murmured.
“Finances are an issue,” he answered sternly.
“Not that.” Her mother jut her chin toward the windows.
Daddy shook an index finger in the air. “Trey Dalton called a couple of weeks ago. He wanted to know if the house was available.”
With the news about one of their key summer renters, Juliette straightened against the hard back of the chair. “I thought they made other arrangements this year.”
“He did. But after Sharon ca
lled, we checked, and he’s still interested. His family arrives Thursday.”
“You’ve already made the arrangements?” It was their house, but why hadn’t they conferred with her? “What about me?”
“Is everything about you, darling?” Her mother laughed scornfully, and the others chimed in. “You’ll come home, of course. Maybe this cancelled wedding is the least of our worries.” She shook her head at Sharon.
Determined not to melt in tears, Juliette squared her shoulders and kept her voice even as she said, “Will you all please stop acting like I’m not in the room. Fine. I understand renting the house to the Daltons. But I won’t apologize for my new faith and yes, it’s impacted everything from Harry to the dissertation. I’m doing the best I can.”
“You’ve always have done the best you can.” Her mother’s singsong bordered on sarcasm.
“You’re taking issue with that? Would you rather I’d been a heroin addict?” With her fingers crooked over her wicked lips, Juliette closed her eyes sorry for the low blow.
“Perhaps a little less attention to yourself would have helped.” Mother’s tiny voice carried a sour note.
“Sharon, let’s look around the grounds,” Harry’s father said. He smoothed his hands over his khaki slacks as he rose. With his wife, he headed through the library and out the backdoor.
Juliette moved to the club chair Sharon abandoned. “What do you mean, Mother? Would have helped what?”
“You shut her out.”
Juliette leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees. “Gwyneth?”
In disbelief, she studied the portrait of her parents. Her father’s eyes fixed at some point outside the window, and her mother pushed back the cuticles on her thumbnail. It’d been weeks since they lived under the same roof. How frail they both looked now, especially Mother with her dark hair a bare cover for her scalp, her willowy frame stooped, and her face etched with lines.
Daddy’s stare finally met her eyes as if he’d been daydreaming. Not one given to a gamut of expression, his brows lifted ever so slightly and beneath a plaid, short-sleeved shirt, his chest rose and fell noticeably. “She’s not responsible, Evelyn.”
Her mother’s ear inclined, but she continued to scrape at her nails. She shook her head.
Juliette stood up. “When did you say the Daltons are coming, Daddy?”
Her father shook his head. “Sit down, darling. Mother has been...” He looked at his wife and closed his eyes. “Evelyn, you’ll owe our daughter an apology when she can hear it. We’ve been talking to the doctor lately. It seems, well, there may be some issues to discuss when you get home, Juliette. But that’s no excuse, is it, Evelyn?”
Her mother wouldn’t be apologizing. “Excuse me, Daddy. This has been difficult.” She headed for the stairway.
“Darling, please.” Her father caught up with her in the foyer.
Juliette turned around. Words to share weighed heavily on her heart, but none formed on her lips. She lowered her head and felt her father’s hand on her shoulder. He tilted her chin up.
“We love you.” He wrapped his arms around her tightly as she fell against his chest.
Numb and exhausted, she pulled away. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Mother isn’t herself lately,” he whispered.
“She shared what she believes, nevertheless.” Juliette sniffed and looked past him. Her mother’s soft steps came from the living room.
“Shall we help you pack?” her father asked. His dry hand enveloped hers.
“No.” Juliette shrugged free and took a step up the staircase.
“The maid service is coming tomorrow at nine. Tell her, Louis.”
Tomorrow at nine? Juliette gasped as she continued upstairs.
In the foyer below, her father’s quiet rebuke and her mother’s denial drifted upstairs. Well, no church today. Juliette closed her bedroom door, slipped off her sandals, and crawled into bed.
Hadn’t her beautiful sister chosen her own path? Who could have stopped her? Juliette pictured the chaos in their home and the dedication to study that helped her escape. Gwyneth hardly noticed her. What influence would she have over such a wild soul? But innocence mattered little if only she proclaimed it.
Somehow in less than twenty-four hours, she’d have to muster the strength to leave Galveston and make way for the Daltons.
Chapter Twenty-Two
By nine o’clock the next morning, Juliette had packed the car. The house looked renter-ready, or it would after the two people coming from the maid service cleared out the dust. Anyway, Juliette did her part.
Overnight, she wondered if her parents weren’t right about Galveston, and not just the finances though she knew they could use the money. The truth was she no longer had a purpose here. It was time to go. She thumped her thigh at Skipper who’d been keyed up all morning.
“Ready to hit the road, little miss?”
Tail stiff, the dog headed to the door.
“Hey, now. It’s not like the sheriff’s running us out of town.” Who was she kidding? It wasn’t far from it.
While the dog checked out the perimeter of the backyard one last time, Juliette settled at the umbrella table and called Mrs. May. The little lady answered on the first ring and listened to Juliette’s brief explanation about moving back to Houston.
“Isn’t that something. Well, just remember the Lord goes before us and after us. You call me and come visit.” Mrs. May went on with some lovely affirmations and ended with, “I love you, baby.”
No matter how busy she got, Juliette had to make time to visit.
****
Melcher’s Furniture Dynasty frowned on personal phone calls, but when Paul Quinn’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his blue jeans, he picked up the message from Mrs. May.
“There’s an emergency,” she said panting. “Call Juliette right away?”
He left the pallet of newly arrived chairs and stepped outside through the large garage doors. Juliette answered the phone sounding unfettered. Her voice sent his heart thumping.
“Just wanted to see if everything’s okay,” he said, thrilled to be talking to her.
“Uh, I think so. Well, unless you consider the end of summer came six weeks early. I’m moving back to Houston today.”
“Oh, wow.” He wasn’t sure what her original plans were, but maybe something happened.
Juliette sighed loudly. “Mrs. May called you, didn’t she.”
“Yep, and I’m glad she did.”
“Listen, Paul. What is it about you? She’s trying to get us together, you know.”
He had no idea how to answer, but her forthrightness made him smile. Had her circumstances with the Harry fellow changed, then? Not that it was his place to bring it up.
“Are you tongue-tied? I understand. Skipper,” she called out. “We need to go. But I think you should call me. Did Mrs. May tell you it’s over with Harry?”
“No.” Her tone sounded brusque, even cavalier, but she was opening the door, throwing it wide open, wasn’t she? A dozen flags flew down on the playing field in his thoughts. He had nothing to offer her. Paul mopped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt collar.
Juliette sighed again. “Well, I need to be going.”
They hung up.
Why show a blind man a mountain range or play a symphony for a deaf one? It’d almost been better when Juliette belonged to someone else.
****
Juliette pulled out of the automatic gate onto 19th Street surprised to see Golightly’s car parked in their driveway. They weren’t due back until tomorrow morning. She’d planned to call them, but it’d be terrible if they stopped by later and saw she’d moved.
She parked in front of their house and left the car running. Asher and Peggy answered the door together and furrowed their brows at the packed-out car.
“We’re leaving,” Juliette said breathless but determined not to dissolve in tears like she so easily did these days.
Pe
ggy drew her in a hug. “Oh, honey. I told Asher something was going on over there.” She stepped back and eyed Juliette head to toe. “What happened?”
“Long story. Anyway, Mother and Daddy rented the house. The family arrives Thursday, but we’re clearing out today.” She wiped her nose and looked across the street. “Might as well, I guess.”
Asher stepped out to the porch. “Back to Houston, then?”
Juliette nodded. “Thanks for everything, guys.” She looked from one to the other.
Peggy stepped next to her husband. “Juliette, honey…”
Suddenly lightheaded, Juliette sank to a nearby chair.
“Asher, go get her some orange juice.” Peggy sat down at the table, sighing.
Asher returned with the orange juice and continued to the car for Skipper. She followed him up to the porch. “Not quite what you planned, was it?”
“Honey, did you want to leave?” Peggy pushed the orange juice toward her.
If she had more energy, she’d pour her heart out. “No,” Juliette managed. She sipped a little of the juice and noticed the couple exchange glances.
“Well, I’ve got an idea for you,” Asher said. “We’ve got three empty bedrooms upstairs.”
“You’ve got your pick—a double or two twins,” Peggy added. “Of course, that other room’s full of junk.”
“I told you I’d clean it up, Peg. We’d stay out of your way if you had some work to do. That’s what you came for, wasn’t it?” Asher asked.
Juliette considered their offer. Stay in Galveston? In a strange house, as much as she loved these people. There’d be the dog, worse the dog hair. She looked at Peggy who smiled broadly.
“It’d be a treat for us,” the woman said softly.
She’d never been upstairs in the Golightly’s home and imagined what it must look like. It didn’t matter. Right now it felt more like home than the one next door or in Houston. Feeling like a vagabond, Juliette thought of what financial arrangements to make. She had little cash of her own.