Lights and Shadows (Oregon In Love)

by Bonnie Blythe

  Marc came around to the other side of the car and helped her out. As they walked up to the house, his fingertips brushed against the small of her back and she longed to lean up against him, to once again experience the feel of his arms around her. Julia chastised herself. You’re only hurting yourself thinking like this. She stood next to him, waiting on the porch after ringing the bell, nervously pleating the fabric of her jade silk dress and adjusting the fringed wrap around her shoulders.

  She chanced a glance up at Marc. His eyes seemed to burn like coal as he regarded her. She caught her breath and felt herself sway toward him...until she heard the door open and the voice of Mr. Steiner’s wife.

  “Julia! Come in. Don’t you look lovely!”

  With Marc’s hand at her elbow nudging her inside, Julia blinked in the light and finally found her voice. “Mrs. Steiner, I’d like you to meet Marc Dorin, a...friend from Oregon. Um, Marc, Mrs. Gloria Steiner.”

  “Delighted to meet you, Mr. Dorin. And while we’re sorry to see our Julia leave us, I’m beginning to understand her motivation in moving.”

  Julia felt her face flush crimson. Leave it to her boss’s wife to mortify her this way. After hearing Marc murmur something noncommital in response, she gave a travesty of a smile and plucking at his sleeve, urged him into the living room. Hopefully to more polite company.

  As it turned out, the general consensus of her friends and co-workers agreed with Mrs. Steiner’s assumption, regardless of Julia’s firm denials. To her dismay, she and Marc were soon pulled in two different directions and remained that way throughout the evening. Julia was unable to keep her attention from roaming restlessly around the room, in search of his dark figure, half-aware her actions gave lie to her denials. As the evening wore on, she realized she no longer cared what anyone thought. She just wanted to be with Marc.

  They left after midnight, Julia alternating between exhaustion and elation. Much of the exhaustion dissipated once she removed Marc from the grasp of the cloying women who’d clung to him all evening. Now she had him to herself. Not that he seems to notice, she thought glumly.

  Once they arrived back at her house, Julia went into her bedroom. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and shook a sleeping pill into her hand from a bottle prescribed by Dr. Granger. Without it, she feared she’d get little rest that night.

  ***

  The next day, during the drive to Julia’s mother’s home, Marc noticed Julia seemed edgy and that she’d taken more care with her appearance. Her outfit was almost formal, her hair perfect, and her words clipped.

  While he drove, Julia pointed out a few landmarks in a quiet voice—the high school she attended, a clothing store where she worked after school, the mall where she met with friends.

  “And that’s the church where...”

  Marc looked over at her when her voice trailed away.

  “Where you what?” he asked curiously.

  Averting her eyes in the opposite direction of the church, she said, “Where I was married.”

  Marc couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. Julia had told him all about her marriage and the tragic way it ended. He longed to reach across the seat and take her hand. The fact that he didn’t have the privilege frustrated him.

  Julia pointed to the left. “Turn here,” she said briskly.

  After threading his way through traffic from Del Mar, Marc turned down La Jolla Village Drive and soon found himself in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods he’d ever seen. Sprawling mansions, surrounded by lush, immaculate landscapes and coastal vegetation, boasted BMWs, Mercedes and Jaguars in their long, winding driveways.

  They stopped in front of a contemporary home, walled with glass and fringed with stark, dramatic shrubbery. When they got out of the car, Marc could hear the roar of the ocean in the near distance. Julia led the way up to the front door. After ringing the bell, a small, dark woman in a light blue uniform answered the door. She gave Julia a broad smile.

  “Julia! How are you? You’ve been away too long!”

  They exchanged hugs. “It's so good to see you. Rosemary, meet my friend Marc Dorin.”

  “Hello, Mr. Dorin,” she said, stepping back to allow them to enter. Rosemary led them through a cavernous foyer and into what was ostensibly a living room filled with ultra-modern decor.

  A tall, elegant woman strolled over to meet them. She was followed by a man in his forties with a ponytail, an oversized silk shirt, and a lazy slouch.

  “Mother, Gregory, this is my friend Marc Dorin. Marc, Eleanor and Gregory Chandler.”

  Eleanor gave Marc a smile as cool as her handshake. Gregory said, “Hey.” His grip was firm and his countenance, friendly.

  What a happy family reunion, Marc thought dryly. They were led to a piece of furniture Marc assumed to be a futuristic adaptation of a couch. Eleanor turned to Rosemary and ordered refreshments to be brought in. The housekeeper silently slipped from the room on her errand.

  After being seated, Eleanor turned to Julia. “How did you find the greenery at the house? I told Josephine she’d lose her job if any of those plants died.”

  “They were all very healthy.”

  “And there was a fruit bowl?”

  “Yes, thank you. That was very considerate.”

  Eleanor smiled thinly, then produced a folder and spread out several pieces of paperwork on top of the chrome and glass coffee table. “You realize you still have two months left on the lease?”

  Julia opened her purse and drew out her checkbook. “What’s the total amount due?”

  Marc was shocked at the figure her mother stated. Julia calmly wrote out the check and handed it over. Then she signed several sheets of paper where her mother indicated each signature should go.

  “I’ll have the keys sent over on Thursday,” Julia said.

  “That sounds fine. Now, can I get you two something to drink?”

  Rosemary returned with a tray of iced tea with lemon slices. Feeling obligated that Rosemary had gone to so much trouble, Marc accepted a glass. Julia sipped from a glass as well, her attention roving around the room as if looking for a way of escape.

  After a few more minutes of perfunctory conversation, Julia finally set down her glass and stood. “Well, I have some packing to do.”

  “Yes,” said Eleanor, rising from the ‘couch’. “And I have a meeting to be off to. Thanks for stopping by.” Her chilly gaze swept over Marc. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Dorin. Have a safe return trip.”

  Gregory echoed her words while they all walked to the door. Rosemary appeared and opened the door, winking at Julia as they left. Once back on the road, Marc noticed Julia sitting rigidly in her seat with a distraught expression on her face.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said.

  “What am I thinking?”

  “That my mother was unfeeling. That she obviously married Gregory for his money. And wasn’t it touching that she charged her daughter for two extra months although I won’t be living at the house? I was even required to pay for it for all the months I was in Oregon, but hey, she never was one to let family get in the way of money.”

  Julia’s angry tone surprised Marc. He didn’t know what to say. “I assumed you owned the house.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s one of the many properties she now owns in the area. I’m just another tenant.” Julia closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for me not to be harsh. Every time I see my mother and Gregory together, I’m reminded she dumped my father for some music company executive who zooms around in one of four foreign sports cars.” She swallowed. “You probably think I’m horrible to say such things. And you’d be right.”

  Marc stared straight ahead. What could he say? Julia was being no more judgmental than he'd been. He’d made quick assumptions about her based on circumstantial evidence and was quickly discovering the error of his thinking.

  “My mother,” she went on bitterly, “never did want kids. I found out late
r that I was a complete mistake and when she became pregnant with Brian two months after I was born, my dad had to talk her out of having an abortion.” Julia hugged her arms around herself as if warding off the cold. “We were one big happy family.”

  When Marc saw tears dribbling down Julia’s cheeks from under her sunglasses, he couldn’t bear the thought of her feeling so bleak. After pulling off to the side of the road, he reached for her and gathered her into his arms.

  Julia didn’t resist. He took the opportunity to revel in the softness of her hair against his cheek while she snuffled into his chest. He was disappointed when she soon pulled away, trying to dry her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I’m being so emotional. I’m always a bit peevish after visiting my mother, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Maybe it’s because she didn’t bother to go to my brother’s wedding or has been too busy to see her only grandchild. It all tends to compound, I guess.”

  Marc watched her fumble with a piece of tissue from her purse. She dabbed at her eyes. “You must think I’m a big baby,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  Longing to pull her back into his embrace, he shook his head. “I don’t think that.”

  Julia regarded him intently for a moment, her hand pausing in its movement. “Then what do you think about me?” Before he could respond, she turned away. “Sorry. That was unfair.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “That’s it?”

  Julia shrugged and nodded. “This is it.”

  Marc looked at the five large boxes stacked neatly in a pyramid at the top landing of the stairway. He found it hard to believe all her possessions could fit into those few boxes.

  “I thought you’d be hiring a moving company to have the furniture moved.”

  She waved a hand about. “Everything you see came with the house. It’s one of the reasons I rented from my mother. It is hard to find a decent place to live that’s furnished.”

  “Oh.”

  Julia gave him a puzzled expression. “I might have a reputation as a notorious shopper, but it’s almost exclusively limited to clothing, much of which I took to Oregon.”

  “I see.” Marc looked at his watch as much for reprieve as for the time. It was only ten in the morning and all she had on her agenda was packing. “Well, now that you’re, uh, packed, how do you want to spend the rest of the day?”

  “I need to get these boxes in the mail, then I hoped you wouldn’t mind driving me around to some of my old haunts. I doubt I’ll be coming back to San Diego on any kind of regular basis.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  As they headed out of the neighborhood, Marc could see why San Diego was such a popular place to live. Aesthetically, the warm kaleidoscope of sun-drenched hues bathing the Mediterranean architecture and exotic foliage captured his imagination. He was glad he brought a couple of his cameras.

  After mailing off the boxes, they lunched in a tiny restaurant near Windandsea Beach. From there, Marc drove Julia through all the places holding memories for her, content to listen to her ramblings. While she talked, however, he got an idea she had lived a pretty lonely life. She didn’t mention any best friends or exciting family adventures. Instead she spoke of places she’d worked or community events she’d attended. Marc thought she sounded more like a tour guide than a woman taking a trip down Memory Lane.

  Later, at her request, he stopped at a florist shop and waited in the car while she went inside. A few moments later, she emerged from the shop with a large bouquet of spring flowers. Her manner became subdued as she directed him to a nearby cemetery.

  When they arrived, she straightened her shoulders. “You can drop me off here.”

  “I’d rather wait for you.”

  “Marc,” she said firmly, “I need some time alone. Go take some pictures or something.”

  He regarded her, wishing he knew how to reach her. “Okay. When do you want me to come back for you?”

  Julia’s eyes scanned the distance, already distracted by her task. “In about an hour.”

  ***

  Julia waited until Marc drove out of sight before taking a step. Then slowly, she walked along the paths of the cemetery until arriving at a particular grave marker—Kevin Lee Wilcox. She stood stiffly for a moment before finding a container for the flowers. Julia placed them above the marker, then sat down on a nearby concrete bench.

  She didn’t come here often. It was too intense a reminder of her failure. Why she’d chosen to come today, she couldn’t really say. But as Julia looked down at the marker, she wished there was a way she could express her regret to her late husband. There were so many reasons to be sad. So many reasons to be sorry.

  If only she hadn’t pressured him into marriage, although he seemed to want it as much as she had at the time. If only she’d been more understanding and supportive of his struggles, perhaps he’d still be alive today. The horror of his death came back fresh in her mind. What had been his last thoughts? Had he thought of her?

  Even though I tried so hard, I still failed him.

  If only she could have his forgiveness.

  If only she could forgive herself.

  Julia knew she needed God’s forgiveness as well, knew a part of the reason she stayed so busy was to block out her past. She once hoped if she excelled in her endeavors, God would be pleased with her. But she knew only one thing pleased God.

  Faith.

  Julia realized she’d put her faith in herself in her attempt to serve Him, and she’d done so in her own strength. But how to change? How to stop striving and start trusting?

  She knew God was near, that He understood her hurts and struggles. And He loved her in spite of them. Maybe now was the time to let it all go.

  Peace is only a prayer away. Julia wondered why she'd fought God for so long. Her reasons were so pitiful, so foolish. She put her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Then she poured out all her pain, confusion, and heartbreak, all her sorrow for everything that had gone wrong, for everything she’d done wrong. Her list was long, but she began to notice with each confession, the load became lighter.

  After a trembling breath, Julia’s tears changed from sadness to thankfulness as a sweet, overwhelming peace began to invade her heart. She sat quietly for a long time as her breathing slowed, committing her future wholly into God’s hands, trusting He would give her the grace to deal with whatever came her way.

  Her thoughts drifted to Marc. If it turned out he wasn’t part of that future, she’d have to accept that as well. But, in spite of her resignation, Julia felt a tiny spark of hope flicker to life within her. Maybe...just maybe, she’d get another chance.

  In the stillness of the cemetery, Julia heard the motor of a car. Glancing at her watch, she was surprised how fast the hour had gone. Walking over once more to her husband’s grave, she stood for a moment and finally said goodbye.

  ***

  In the car, Julia appreciated that Marc seemed to respect her mood. He didn’t ask any questions or make her feel awkward in any way. Her heart felt sore from the strenuous episode in the cemetery, but the wonderful balm of peace had already commenced its healing work. She marveled at how long it had been since she felt so free. Why had she ever resisted the nudges from God in the first place?

  Relaxing against the soft leather seat, she gave Marc a sidelong glance. She wondered what he was thinking about and if his thoughts included her. As if sensing her scrutiny, he looked over at her for a second before turning his attention back to the road. His expression had been neutral, but somehow his gaze had felt like a caress—a notion that caused warmth to suffuse her body. The spark of hope she experienced earlier now fanned into a flame. Julia stared down at her hands, pressed tightly in her lap and tried to check the surge of emotion that filled her.

  That evening, their earlier plan to go out for dinner was discarded in favor of ordering food in. Julia didn’t know if she was overreacting, but she sensed a fragile, new awareness arching between she a
nd Marc.

  After a light dinner, they sat carefully apart from one another, but together on the same couch. Only a couple of lamps illuminated the area, creating a sense of intimacy. Their conversation didn’t go beyond surface subjects, but while Marc talked of the road condition of Highway 101, he looked at her in a most peculiar way. Spencer’s words about starving came to mind.

  As the evening wore on, the tension in the air around them grew almost tactile. As much as Julia wanted to reach out to him, she decided he needed to be the one to make the first move—if there was a move to be made. She bit back her disappointment when, at ten-thirty, there seemed little else to do but go to bed. After a polite goodnight, Julia went up to her room with a heavy heart. She pulled on a tank top and flannel PJ bottoms and studied her reflection in the mirror.

  Tomorrow, we’ll be on the road to Monterey, then after that...back home. Marc will return to his classes and I’ll return to...whatever.

  Julia brushed out her hair and reminded herself not to worry about the future.

  After turning out the light and crawling into bed, she had a hard time getting comfortable, especially when she heard Marc enter the guest room. How could she be comfortable when the man she loved was just a few feet away? The few feet separating them might as well been a million miles, she thought grumpily. She was probably wrong to think he had any feelings for her. Most likely, Marc was in there, snoring up a storm, dreaming of when he could be done with his favor to her brother.

  Julia closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. But her mind continued to churn. At some point, she must’ve dropped off, because when she next glanced at her clock radio, the time was two a.m. Tossing aside the blankets, she decided to kill some time getting a drink of water. Not wanting to use the upstairs bathroom, possibly disturbing Marc, she padded silently down the stairs and went into the kitchen.