Appointment at Christmas Bay

by Chase, Diane

  ****

  Monday had been a slow day at Melcher’s warehouse, and Paul, restless since the ugly scene at the Golightlys on Saturday, had been too wired to relax. He got home about four-thirty and got to work on the kitchen renovation. One of the guys at The Hook was a contractor and was refurbishing a house in Galveston. He’d turned Paul on to some cabinets in good condition, but he needed to level them, adjust the plumbing access, and anchor them to the wall.

  He leaned against the kitchen bar from the living room and surveyed the situation. What a contrast Juliette was to his life, a pretty girl with a promising career and a family with a lovely home. What could he offer her? A ramshackle beach house and returning home everyday in sweaty t-shirts.

  He rubbed his calloused hands over his face, starting to feel the fatigue of a couple of sleepless nights. He’d been careful not to attach romantic significance to the Lord’s wish for him to go out to Christmas Bay that day. But he couldn’t help feeling such a connection to Juliette.

  His phone beeped in his pocket, and he answered it expecting Casey since they’d talked about grilling burgers at Sunset Marina this week. His heart raced as he saw a text had come in from Juliette.

  paul, sorry abt the other nite juliette

  He just hadn’t been around women much. It seemed to him the cryptic message lacked substance. And so? What about the dude? Was she free or not? He walked out to the deck and sat down. Usually the afternoon sun blistered the boards this time of day, but the thick cloud cover hid the sun. In the distance, a few people strolled on the beach and lazy waves rolled to shore.

  He sat a few minutes staring and listening to the gulls and then it came to him. The next move was his. Harry was out of the picture. She’d have said something different if they stayed together. But it also meant stepping things up a notch, and maybe she didn’t feel ready. Maybe he didn’t. One thing for sure, he’d never forget her or what happened as long as they lived.

  Sweat poured down his temples and cooled with the slight ocean breeze. He held the phone a few minutes and exhaled. She was worth risking his pride. The worst she could say was no.

  ****

  Monday evening, Paul drove into Galveston a lot more nervous than when he’d seen Juliette at the Golightlys. Was he ready for this to progress? She apologized again for the interruption to the peach cobbler when he called. She also suggested they go for dessert sometime. He’d offered dinner.

  She was waiting on the porch alone when he arrived. Wearing one of those sundresses, red with little light blue and white sailboats on it, her arms looked tanned and fit and her legs shapely. Her hair was pulled back in a white sash and the tail of it fell across the front. She smiled as she climbed in the cab.

  The scent of lemons tickled his nostrils. He gulped and drove to the stop sign at Postoffice. They’d decided to go to Beachcomber Grill, a seafood place on the pier.

  “So how’s your work going?” he asked.

  She hesitated which made him worry he’d been too opinionated before. She sighed. “I’m not doing much with it since all my files are packed. I’ll need to get back to Houston for that. You know my mother’s not well.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. You mentioned that.” Houston? His heart sank at another hurdle. He hadn’t given much thought to her situation being temporary at the Golightlys. “Are you leaving soon?”

  “Tomorrow.” Her voice sounded so soft.

  “Oh, man. Well, guess it’s best to get back.” He didn’t mean a word of it.

  Paul pulled into the packed parking lot. Juliette didn’t have much to say while they stood in the crowded restaurant foyer for a table.

  They had the luck of getting a table with a view of the bay. He noticed the pinch in Juliette’s brows as she stood by her chair and gazed out the window. The sun was out of sight, but the evening sky was still luminous blue and streaked with oranges and reds. She finally sat down and rested her arms on the table, eyes still fixed on the bay. Paul wished to console her, reach his hand out to hers, but she seemed lost in her thoughts.

  “Not one thing went like I planned this summer, Paul. Years in the making, every step of the way taking it all for granted. A summer of mystery and loss. I’m not unhappy or happy. Just in shock, I guess.” She turned her head a little but not enough to look at him. “I’m no good for anyone right now. I can’t even imagine it. And yet…”

  “I understand.” His long sigh was lost in the clatter of dishes and buzz of conversation around them. If only she didn’t seem so unreachable.

  The evening went by without a lot of conversation. He was comfortable during the lulls, but Juliette seemed to avoid his gaze, even when he talked. When she did share something about herself—there’d been brief descriptions of her travels to Italy and teaching at the university—it was like she wasn’t even talking to him. He got the impression she was relating the fragments of broken dreams, not happy life experiences.

  They finished their seafood dinner, skipped dessert, and he drove her back to the Golightlys. Juliette turned to him in the truck’s cab, cocking the door open.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For everything. No need to walk me to the door.”

  “Okay, you’re welcome.”

  She sat a minute staring ahead and finally said, “You’re a good man, Paul Quinn.”

  He chuckled a little. “I don’t know about that. But the Lord’s working on me.”

  She bid him goodnight, and he waited while she strolled back down the sidewalk. Sorrow filled his heart as she disappeared through the door. There hadn’t been the slightest hint that she’d call and no open door for him to contact her. He drove off and wondered if his life might have been better if he’d never met her.

  ****

  Asher and Peggy said their goodbyes early the next morning and after a short breakfast with oatmeal and fruit, left to see a friend in the hospital in Houston. After Juliette loaded her suitcases in the car, she washed her sheets, swept and dusted her room, and scoured the bathroom, hoping to leave things as sparkling as Peggy kept them.

  She went to call her parents and let them know she was on her way and noticed an email had come in. It’d come in during the night from Dr. Neil and said:

  Juliette,

  Today, a colleague, Oscar Peruggi, mentioned he needed someone to translate and transcribe lectures. I thought of you and your changed plans. You could stay here, of course, and the work leaves time for your dissertation. Perhaps you prefer not leaving your mother at this tender time, but a change of scenery could promote your own outlook. Let me know.

  A

  Go to Florence?

  Overrun with tourists in some parts and delightfully quaint in others, it was an art scholar’s haven. At Dr. Neil’s villa, a small house really, she wouldn’t mind the same room with its single bed, a two-drawer dresser, and a writing desk that overlooked cottages and gardens tumbling down the Tuscan hillside. The bus could take her to the university job in Florence in a half hour.

  She closed her eyes and hugged the dog, already missing her. What about Mother and Daddy? Her thoughts drifted to Paul. She barely knew him. And what did they really have in common? He was fisherman who now worked in a warehouse.

  She was deciding how to answer the email when her cell phone rang. It turned out to be her father.

  “We just wanted to check on you,” he said. “Mother’s on the other line.”

  “Hey, guys. How are you feeling, Mother?” Juliette propped some pillows behind her back on the twin bed.

  “Not good. Very tired. Are you coming home soon? Louis, tell her not to ride on that motorcycle.”

  “Ma…I don’t…” She sighed and inwardly cringed at the reference to her sister’s gruesome death. “I won’t. Don’t worry.”

  “This is Juliette, Evelyn. We wanted to know how you’re doing, darling.”

  She hesitated to involve them yet but forged ahead. “Dr. Neil’s made a proposition.” She related the little she knew about the translating job.


  Her father stammered and finally laughed. “What a marvelous opportunity. When do you leave?”

  “You think I should go? My Italian’s as rusty as an old tin can.” In fact, maybe she wasn’t even qualified.

  “You’ll pick it up quickly, I’m sure,” her father said.

  “But what about the circumstances there, you know…”

  “Louis, I have a headache.” Click.

  “Mother?” Juliette’s heart sank. “Oh, no.”

  “It’s not been a good day, but the doctors tell us to remain hopeful. We’ll talk more when you get home.”

  For a few minutes, they discussed the benefits of living in Florence and hung up. Juliette headed downstairs with the computer and purse, Skipper on her heels. The house phone rang as she was combing the den for personal items. It turned out to be Peggy.

  Juliette sat down on the sofa, sadness sinking in that she’d be leaving the Golightlys, her best friends at this point.

  “Honey, we’re still at the hospital. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to any trouble getting your room fixed up. You know I’ll want to do that.”

  “I’m sure there’s plenty left to do. Listen, Peggy, I can’t thank you guys enough. Be sure and tell Asher again.”

  “Oh, honey, he’s as gloomy as a haunted house today, and it’s not our friend, Marsha. She’s doing just fine and glad for the company. You promised to keep in touch, don’t forget. Houston’s just right down the street. It barely took an hour to get to this medical center today.”

  “I may be a bit farther away than that,” Juliette said. She told Peggy about Dr. Neil’s offer and the job in Florence.

  “Italy. Oh, honey!” Peggy hesitated. “Were you thinking of seeing Paul again?”

  “Um…” Juliette floundered for the words and meanwhile coaxed Skipper to her side on the sofa. Poor little thing. Her parents preferred to keep her outside.

  “You’re not sure, is that it? Well, I understand. I remember when I met Asher, I turned him down five times and went out on the sixth.” She chuckled. “Of course, I’m not suggesting that has to be your fate with Paul. He just seemed like such a nice boy, and of course, the way you met, well, seems like you’d at least stay in touch.”

  Peggy’s words felt like a ball and chain. “We’re really different.”

  “Asher and I didn’t have much in common when we met. Of course, we were just eighteen.”

  “I’m saying Paul and I are from different worlds.”

  “Oh, I know you are. You’ve got those two degrees and working on a third. He probably didn’t go past high school, don’t you think?” Peggy’s voice sounded strong and self-assured.

  “Oh, it sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

  “Sometimes we have to look past things, see them as they are. I’m not trying to talk you into anything, honey. We love you so much, and if you were my daughter, I’d be saying the same thing. I’m just thinking about my own experience. Asher and I had been together a lot of years when I finally realized we were on a mission together, first raising the boys, then taking care of each other, and serving in the church. But you’ve got your own life. You be sure and keep in touch no matter where you end up, okay.”

  Juliette promised to do so. She decided she had what she needed and took her computer and purse to the car. There was just enough room for Skipper on the passenger seat. She closed the trunk and glanced next door at her parents’ house. Through the star jasmine vines it was hard to see the front porch from the Golightly’s driveway.

  A man stepped out on the upstairs balcony, glanced around, and waved. Tray Dalton had no idea who she was. She waved back. Funny, that she felt so little connection to the house she knew her whole life. And funny to feel more at home waving from the Golightly’s side of the fence than her own.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Paul Quinn tossed and turned all night. Finally, about six he got up and put on a pot of coffee. Usually on his days off and after work, he felt like he should putter around the house, but he decided even before he rolled out of bed he wanted to go to Christmas Bay.

  After dressing in shorts, a t-shirt, and a layer of insect repellent, he hosed the spider webs off a ten-foot johnboat in the garage and strapped it into the pick-up bed. Since the sun barely lit the earth at this hour, no cars tooled down Bluewater Highway. Within a few minutes, he turned left onto a dirt lane and rocked over the uneven sand toward the dark water.

  He parked close to the bank and gazed at the rippling water. A flock of egrets flew eastward, seagulls swooped overhead, and fish broke the surface into rings. The shallow bay never held much fishing interest for him, but he bought the little boat years ago thinking it might.

  The light vessel unloaded easily. He waded out to his knees, eased into the boat, and with the slightest touch of the paddle, propelled away from the shore. The buzz of insects, dip of the oar, and squawk of birds, all a gentle morning melody, captured the deepest part of him. In his former life, Della Rae’s roaring twin engines and his exuberant clients drowned out nature’s sounds.

  And God’s voice

  The thought slipped in among his. Yeah, he got busy and everything clamored for attention, but that all settled down. Way down.

  Paul paddled out a ways and looked around. A few guys wade-fished in the distance; otherwise the grassy shores were all his. The sunrise hid behind a blanket of gray clouds, but what a spectacular sight it must be on a clear day. He rested the oar against his leg and bowed his head.

  Last night, he’d read Jeremiah before falling asleep, and maybe it was verse 2:13 that kept him tossing all night.

  My people have committed two sins, it began. The specificity intrigued him. Two, not three or four. They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns… The grief in the passage washed over him like it did while he tried to sleep.

  Broken cisterns that cannot hold water.

  Well, he was as guilty as the next person on that. How foolish. He gazed over the bay, just one speck of wonder in a world of wonders, and yet, they were all digging their own wells, forgetting God altogether.

  The regret bore down like the rising sun and the humid air, but a cooling wind that seemed to emanate first from his heart carried it away. Then came the words in his heart.

  They were clear, more so than ever, and he knew God was calling him to serve, to bring His people back to the spring of living water.

  Paul paddled for awhile looking at the shoreline and taking in the new course his life would take. He had no idea where it would lead, and maybe even farther away from Juliette. His heart felt burdened with the mixture of grief and joy.

  ****

  Juliette spent the first few days in Houston clearing out the past. Holly Benson, the wedding planner, earned the rest of her prepaid salary by helping her return wedding gifts, cancel upcoming events, and listing the wedding dress on E-Bay, Holly’s idea. The room and adjoining study were finally wiped clean of Harry and her former dreams.

  In the meantime, Dr. Peruggi sent a portion of a lecture to translate into Italian in lieu of an interview, and it was due by morning. With the time difference, she needed to send it tonight. After it was finished.

  Her parents stayed busy and gave her enough space to reorder the room and get some work done. A knock sounded on the door and her mother came in.

  “Darling, Daddy made an egg casserole with sausage.” She wandered to the computer and hugged Juliette’s neck.

  “Thanks, Ma.” Juliette circled her mother’s tiny waist.

  “We’re meeting the Carlson’s for dinner. Would you like to come?” Her mother’s speech seemed clearer than usual.

  “Evelyn, Juliette might need to finish her translating,” Daddy said, strolling into the study. “I was thinking, darling, you know the Underwood’s son is fluent in Italian, and he’s home for the summer. Shall I give them a call?”

  Juliette sat back in the chair trying to shift gears to talk to them. �
��I better get the job on my own merit.” She couldn’t help but think it sounded like cheating. Did her father want her to get the job that bad? Maybe so. She’d let them down in so many ways this summer, perhaps.

  The pair of them strolled out again arm-in-arm. After so many years of leaning on them, they seemed to need her more than ever before. A strange sense coursed through her, and Juliette looked back at the computer trying to figure out where she’d left off.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in the study with a break for the casserole and then again for another helping of fruit. Her parents agreed Skipper could stay in the house due to the heat as long as she was confined to the bedroom. She shuffled between the bed and a chair by the window, barking at passing cats and dogs.

  Early evening, Juliette decided she’d done the best she could do and sent the translated lecture to Dr. Peruggi. If she got the job, surely the translating would become easier once she was back in the swing of things. She checked her emails to see if Shae, Dr. Neil’s daughter who was her age, had written again. She’d been so excited Juliette might be in Florence and wanted her to visit Rome where she lived with her husband and two sons.

  Dr. Neil’s villa was always teaming with students and professors. On her visits, the brightest minds in academia gathered on his patio or around the dining room table debating, expounding, competing. It’d be like that again, plus researching and writing her dissertation, maybe working in the library or at the villa, and taking time to catch up with a few people she knew there.

  But did she want to go back?

  She leashed up Skipper who went bananas at the prospect of getting out. They walked in the humid evening awhile. Later, Juliette ate a sandwich in bed, watched a movie, and by ten, fell asleep.

  When she woke early the next morning, an email from Dr. Peruggi had arrived. He commented on a few of the verb tenses, but offered the job twenty to thirty hours a week, which began early September and ended in June, longer than she expected. In the note, he suggested they arrange a phone call next week. At least, the fair salary made her more independent.