Deja vu All Over Again

by Larry Brill

  As they continued to talk, Nate had less to offer. He didn’t need to compete with Festerhaven to be the most charming boy at the table. Festerhaven moved closer to Nicolette, confident enough to touch her shoulder now. Festerhaven didn’t deserve Julie. Julie certainly didn’t deserve to be hurt by this scuzbucket. His own experience with marital wife-foolery told him that if the dude was a cheater now, he wasn’t going to stop after he married Julie. So in a sense, he was doing her a favor in a backhanded, sleazy way that he hoped to God and the squirrel on the mantle overhead that she would forgive him for if she ever found out.

  The women excused themselves. Then Festerhaven waved a cocktail napkin in front of Nate’s nose. It had a phone number scribbled on it. “Twenty bucks, my man. Pay up.”

  “It’s too bad you’re engaged to Julie.” Nate pulled out his wallet. “You two hit it off. You don’t meet someone like her often enough. She’s special, don’t you think?” Nate let that sit for three beats. “Okay. So pine tar moment.”

  “Pine tar?”

  “Softball. We’re teammates, right? Once you’ve swapped pine tar with a guy, you’ve got his back forever. I’m going to give you my advice. I think you can do better.”

  “Better than what, her?”

  “Better than Julie.” Nate played his hand. It was a bluff but it was all he had. “No knock on Julie, but she’s no Nicolette.” He nodded at the far wall of the bar. “Nicolette is more your style. I like her a lot.” He laid out his palms, balancing the best Julie had to offer on one hand, versus hooking up with Miss Right on the other. Julie was smart enough and was certainly pretty enough.

  He told Festerhaven it was easy to see Nicolette was most everything Festerhaven had described to Nate as the qualities of the perfect woman. She was enough on steroids. “But more than anything, she’s definitely warm for your form.” Then he rushed to get in the kill shot. “Okay. Here she comes. To have someone like her after you says a lot about the man you are. I’m in awe, actually,” Nate hissed. “You’re a stud, no doubt. I’m saying remember that, as soon as you marry Julie, you take on her whole family as well. Overnight you’re no longer the dawg-about-town who can attract a woman so hot as Nicolette. No, overnight you become Grandpa Russ. Grandpa.”

  Until then, Festerhaven merely stared off with amused tolerance, but he was sure Festerhaven cringed when he planted that seed, the image of a dismal future as Grandpa Russ.

  “Think about it.”

  Nate could see the wheels turning, revved up further by Nicolette’s perfectly timed stroke on the back of Festerhaven’s neck as she reclaimed her seat and ordered another drink.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Jazz Night

  The jazz music helped a little. The company helped a bit more, but Julie still hadn’t shaken the blues. Mom had mixed up her medications again and spent the weekend in a stupor that Julie nursed her through. Tuesday, Tiffany said they were pressuring Joe to move out to Texas early, and she didn’t know if they could stay in California until Julie’s wedding, since Russell still refused to commit to a date. And Wednesday, speaking of dates…

  “She seems nice enough,” Carla said. “But I don’t think she’s quite right for Nate if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you, sweetie,” Larry replied. “I like her. Though I’m not sure about those online dating sites.”

  Nate’s date, Angela, was a quiet little redhead, pleasant and smart. “You know what they say about opposites attracting,” Julie offered, but when Nate had walked in with Angela, Julie immediately found herself looking for flaws in the woman and in the relationship. That surprised and bothered her because it was none of her business. She couldn’t help herself. She was happy that he had turned his attention to another woman. Sort of. Wasn’t that what she wanted for him? She thought he could do better than picking up strangers through a matchmaking site. At least she could stop worrying about Nate showing too much interest in her.

  Damn him.

  Barbara Unger and Beverly Myers moved their chairs from an adjoining table in the Renaissance Club to join them.

  “Seth and his band are pretty good,” Barbara said.

  “Not bad if you like that kind of music.” Beverly gave her review. “But this is kind of fun.”

  Nate had rallied the staff to show up and support Seth and his quartet at the club. The music started a little late for a school night, but Julie thought why not go out even if Russell begged off. He was at some social event, a fundraiser, set up by somebody connected to two of the school board members up for reelection. It didn’t sound entirely ethical, but he was good at that kind of thing. And if it helped him win enough votes to get the assistant superintendent’s job, she was all for it. He had Superintendent Fox on his side, and he felt with a little face time with the right people, he could get the job offer before Christmas. That couldn’t come soon enough. Russell had been getting testy. True, she might have had to neglect him a little lately. Mom had caught a flu bug that lingered for weeks. She and Tiffany had been spending a lot of time at home with her. Mom resisted any talk of bringing in a professional health care assistant, even part-time, who would chip away at her independence. Julie thought it was just a matter of time. She wished Russell could be more understanding, but he had a distant relationship with his own mother and was perfectly happy that she lived in another state. Julie had floated the idea that, while he was holding off setting a wedding date, and as soon as she no longer needed to spend so much time with Mother, she might move in with him. That would beat the Tuesday night and weekend visitations that had become their routine. Disappointing her again, he took it “under advisement” and suggested they could settle everything after the holidays. Another delay.

  “So what’s up with them?” Beverly said to no one in particular but watching Nate and Angela having fun in a dark corner of the room.

  After showing up a little late, when Seth and the group were well into their first set, Nate made the introductions and small talk before he took his new girlfriend to a table near the rear, where the shadows were deeper.

  “If I had a date like that, I wouldn’t want a whole lot of light either. She looks better in the dark,” Barbara said. That was unfair and Julie told her so.

  Not wanting to be left out of a good catty conversation, Beverly offered her own assessment. “Well, if nothing else, Nate’s a little old for her, don’t you think? She’s young enough to be his daughter.”

  Larry said, “Hey, I know I’m only a man, outnumbered here, too, but age shouldn’t matter to us if it doesn’t matter to the two of them. Am I right or am I right?”

  “Wrong, as always,” Carla patted his hand. “But then you are a man, and that’s the same thing.” She leaned over and kissed her husband.

  Julie wished Russell could be there to see them. Carla and Larry clearly adored each other and weren’t afraid to show it. Russell drew the line when he walked out of the house. Julie understood. It would be unprofessional to be overly affectionate at work, he had made that clear, though she wished he would drop his guard just once in a while. More often than not, it was Julie who instigated a smooch, a hug or holding hands when they were away from school. It was disappointing, but that was the way it was.

  Not Nate Evans. She watched him make goo-goo eyes with his date over in the corner. They were laughing about something, again. It looked conspiratorial, something that they obviously preferred to keep to themselves. They were certainly having a grand time. They acted like a couple comfortable with one another even though Nate said they hadn’t met before tonight. How much longer would it be before he took Angela’s hand or kissed her in view of the group? Not long. He was like that. She felt a headache coming on, a good excuse to leave early.

  Two songs later, the lovebirds rejoined the group, sitting across from Julie and Carla with their backs to the stage. She wasn’t jealous, she didn’t feel jealous, exactly, but it felt like an obvious attempt on Nate’s part to show her that he had moved on. Ange
la was his proof. Julie had rejected him and now he was rubbing her nose in it. She thought he was better than that.

  “So where did you say you met?” Beverly asked. “One of those dating sites?”

  Nate nodded and gave Angela a knowing thumbs-up.

  “Nate wrote the most romantic things. It was love at first email, practically,” she said.

  Julie steeled herself with a sip of wine. “Nate was always good at writing stuff, weren’t you? Did he tell you we went to high school together? He could write romantic things even back then.” What compelled her to say that? It slipped out before she could stop, so she rejected the temptation to advise Angela to not put too much stock in them, based on her experience.

  “Of course, that was a long time ago,” Carla cut in. “We didn’t have email back then. Everything was done by carrier pigeon. Yep, it was a long time ago,” she emphasized. Julie punched her knee under the table.

  Angela giggled. The girl actually giggled. He had put a hand on her shoulder, nudging and shushing her. Something was up. He held up his hand, freezing the conversation, and shared an odd, almost conspiratorial glance with Angela. She giggled again.

  “Do you hear that? Seth played this song for me in the band room a couple of weeks ago. He wrote it and I told him he had to play it tonight.”

  It was an interesting piece. Julie liked it. It made her feel lonely and hopeful at the same time. It was quite good.

  Nate looked at Angela and said, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he wrote that song just for you.” Then he winked at her. Ugh. Julie thought that pushed the boundaries of sappy. If she hadn’t been there to support Seth, and if she hadn’t mooched a ride with Carla and Larry, she would’ve found an excuse to go home. She went to the restroom instead.

  She was reapplying lipstick, sorting through her thoughts when Carla joined her.

  “So what is it? You’re not feeling a teensy bit jealous, are you?”

  Should she deny it? It wouldn’t work with Carla. “Maybe a little,” Julie admitted. “I’m a little annoyed. One day he says he’s in love with me, well, maybe not in so many words, and the next day he’s got another woman on his arm. It feels like that was too soon and too easy for him if he actually meant what he said. That’s the kind of thing he used to pull in high school all the time.”

  “Then get mad at him and get over it. What can you do? It’s not like you don’t have Russell.”

  They turned from watching each other, suddenly driven to check their makeup in the mirror, when a toilet flushed in the stall. They waited until they were alone again.

  That was enough time for Julie to admit what was really bugging her. Considering that James never actually, formally asked Julie to marry him—that happened after she learned she was pregnant—and Russell surprised her with the engagement ring and the words, “Here, I bought this for you; I think it’s time we made it official,” Nate’s offer to be her number-one option, the sincerity of his words, his voice and the look he gave her, was the sweetest, most eloquent and touching proposal Julie ever had. And she fell for it. He didn’t mention the offer was only good for a week.

  Nate was whispering in Angela’s ear as they returned to the table.

  She rubbed her temple and turned to Carla. “I think the headache is getting to me. Maybe it’s time we head for home.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Nate said. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

  “Not terrible, but it is a school night.”

  “Can’t you stay just a few minutes? It would be a shame to leave before we get Seth over to say hi. I know he’d really appreciate it.”

  She had to admit that was the reason for the night out. She didn’t have to wait long. They cheered louder than most of the audience when the band stopped. “On that note,” Seth said a strained laugh, “we’re going to take a short break. Thank you.” He was still a few steps from joining them at the table when he pulled up and his jaw dropped.

  Nate stood and offered his seat to Seth. “Mr. MusicMan35, let me introduce you to Miss Angel Strings.”

  “What are you doing here?” Seth asked, moving closer.

  “I came to hear you play music. That song you played, the one that goes”—she hummed a chorus line—“it’s incredible. Did you really write it for me? Nate says you did.”

  Seth sat down next to this person called Angel Strings while Nate pulled up a chair next to Julie.

  Leave it to Carla to take command. “Okay, kids, what’s going on here?”

  Seth looked at his lap, so Angela explained that Nate had written her notes on the dating site pretending to be Seth because Seth was too shy to write them. Wasn’t that romantic? “Whenever I suggested we meet for coffee, he wouldn’t, and I thought that was pretty weird because he kept writing me and I’d get this awesome email that was like reading a perfect piece of music. Finally, I wrote him back and told him to stop teasing me or go away, and that’s when Seth confessed. He explained it all, that Nate had written those letters for him because he couldn’t find the right words.”

  Nate said, “So naturally—and Carla, you’ll appreciate this—being the busybody I am, once the cat was out of the bag, I jumped back into the middle of it and arranged for Angela to be here tonight. But we didn’t tell Seth.”

  All eyes turned to Seth. Julie expected to find him squirming. That’s how she would feel if she had been set up and it was revealed in such a humiliating way in public. But he was too busy watching Angela to notice.

  “And how’s that working out?” Larry asked.

  Angela smiled at the group. “It’s early yet, but so far so good.”

  Seth beamed. He was glad she came, and yes, he was kind of, sort of, definitely thinking about her when he wrote that song. Nate said so—you could believe it.

  She followed Seth back to the stage, and he moved a small table to the front for her so they could watch each other during the quartet’s second set.

  “Aw. They’re so cute,” Beverly said.

  “Nate, you make a good busybody,” Carla said. “I couldn’t have stuck my nose in their business any better.”

  “I’ve had a lot of practice lately.”

  That was mysterious both in the way he mumbled it and the way he dropped his chin and propped it in his palm on the table. She leaned forward and did the same.

  “Good job, Evans,” she whispered. Annoyed with herself, she stewed over her jealous reaction to what had been going on. How could she have let this turn into something so juvenile? Maybe it was Nate dragging her kicking and screaming back to their high school days. She was a teenager again, whapped by a jealous impulse simply because one of the cute boys she sort of liked was paying more attention to some other girl. Maybe she liked him more than she wanted to admit? Good Lord, that thought and the way it expressed itself sounded juvenile. Still, it wasn’t as if she had jumped to the conclusion all on her own that Angela was Nate’s date. He pushed her there.

  Damn him.

  “It’s funny. And sweet. So this whole thing was a blind date you set up for Seth,” Barbara said. “You had us all thinking she was your date.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Why didn’t you say something right away?” Julie asked.

  He bit his lower lip and shrugged in a quick manner that could as easily have been a flinch. “Didn’t occur to me, I guess. I wanted to get the two of them together, to surprise him, and I didn’t think about how it would look. That’s all.”

  Damn it. Nate was going out of his way to do something nice for their friend, and she made the gesture all about her. Her excuse of a headache was beginning to feel real.

  “Besides, as neat as she is, Angela’s not my type. Not even close.”

  Nobody said anything, leaving it up to Julie to ask, “So, Nate. Who exactly is your type?”

  Instead of answering right away, he stood up and started clapping as Seth and the band took the stage. She heard him say, “My type?” And while the rest of t
he table’s attention was on the musicians, he was looking at her. He tucked his chin against his shoulder and raised his eyebrows in a way that left no doubt he was making fun of her for asking the obvious.

  You, better than anybody, Jules Cooper-Finch, know perfectly well. He didn’t say it aloud, but the message was clear.

  She looked back at him with as innocent a face as she could muster. She wasn’t going to look away this time, though she knew she should, because it was the answer she wanted.

  Damn him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jackpot

  The phone was ringing when Julie stepped out of the shower. Naked and dripping, she grabbed a towel and went to the bedroom to check the caller ID, afraid that whoever it was this early had an emergency. She pouted at the phone. Carla could wait until Julie dressed. Fifteen minutes later, she stood at the kitchen counter checking messages on the phone with one hand while pouring her first coffee of the day with the other.

  The phone vibrated in her hand to the bossa nova tune Julie had assigned to Carla’s calls.

  “I told you. It’s an omen.”

  No hello. No what are you up to? Not even a casual hey, it’s me. No, when Julie answered the phone, Carla launched into her omen theory.

  “What’s an omen?”

  “The numbers never lie,” Carla said. “Did you buy your lottery ticket yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well?”

  “I haven’t checked yet. So tell me.” Anxiousness crept up on her.

  “Are you still playing the birthdays, yours and Nate’s?”

  “That was the point, wasn’t it?” Yes, all through the weeks since Carla came up with her omen theory, and Julie planned to keep playing them until somebody won the jackpot.

  “Jackpot,” Carla said.

  Julie tossed the coffee from her cup into the sink though she was still several feet away and missed badly. She could clean up the mess later. Better yet, she could hire someone to clean it up for her. Carla wouldn’t joke about something like this. Well, she might, but not like this.