by Cate Beauman
“A few, I guess.”
“Was—was she a good person?”
“Honey, you know she was. What’s going on?”
“I don’t want you to sugarcoat who my mother was. Didn’t she have some issues at some point?”
“Okay. Right around the time Chase was born, she started hanging out with the wrong crowd. She ran away a couple times and gave your Gram and Gramps quite a hard time. One day, she ran off and didn’t come back. For a long time they thought she was dead, but then she came home with you.”
Julie’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “I was four.”
“That’s right. I remember being excited that Chase would have a friend when we came to visit.”
“What was she like with me?”
“She loved you to pieces. Your mother may have left a troubled young woman, but keep in mind she’d been young—only seventeen or eighteen. But when she came back, she seemed to have blossomed. She doted on you—worked hard for you.”
Her eyes filled as she drowned in guilt. Mom had loved her so much. She’d cleaned houses and put herself through community college and landed herself a secure, full-time job at the local daycare. They’d never had much money, but Mom always made sure she had what she needed. But even as Julie remembered her mother’s selflessness, she thought of the woman at the store and the dreams she couldn’t explain. “So you never saw me when I was a baby?”
“I sure didn’t.”
“Mom never sent Gram and Gramps pictures?”
“I don’t think so. They were surprised when your mother came home with you.”
“What—what was I like when we got here?”
“Quiet. I remember Gram being concerned because you were so quiet, but then you and Chase started playing regularly and you came right out of your shell. We could hardly separate you two after that.”
She didn’t want to think about Chase. This was enough to deal with. “What about my father?”
“I never met him. I don’t know anything about him. Honey, are you sure everything’s all right?”
She picked up her birth certificate, reading her mother’s name and information. But her father’s information was blank. “Everything’s good. I was just curious. Now that Nana’s gone there’s no one to ask.”
“You should come for a visit. Clayton and I would love to have you. You can come stay with us for as long as you like whenever you want.”
She’d gone to Seattle once and stayed with the Riders for Chase’s Senior Prom. Their home had been so pretty, and they were so welcoming. She smiled. “That’s very sweet.”
“I mean it, honey. Nana’s gone now, but I’m still here—just a quick plane ride away.”
But nothing was the same anymore. Bonnie and Clayton wouldn’t be coming back here anytime soon. Nana had passed, and she and Chase weren’t friends. “Thank you. I should go.”
“Keep in touch, Jules.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye, honey.”
She hung up, still studying her birth certificate. This right here was all the proof she needed. She was Miranda’s daughter, and Gram and Gramps’ granddaughter.
She looked outside and realized it was snowing again. She went to her room, changed into yoga pants and a top, pulled on a sweatshirt, and grabbed the box from the closet Chase had brought over last week. “Junk,” she whispered as she stared at the strip of pictures of the two of them from a time in their life that no longer existed. She brought it with her downstairs, grabbed her jacket, and went outside, putting the box on the curb with the rest of the trash for tomorrow’s pickup. Grabbing her shovel, she cleared the sidewalks and steps, aware that she only had a few minutes before the next group came.
Chapter Thirteen
Chase muscled the new double-sink countertop into place in the upstairs bathroom and wiped at his forehead with his arm. “Damn,” he steamed out, flexing his cramped hands, slightly out of breath. He had a hell of a time getting the slab of granite up the stairs without dinging the freshly painted walls. The bastard was heavy and awkward and the stairwell narrow: a bad combination.
Ready to deal with the plumbing and fixtures and get this bathroom finished up once and for all, he crouched down, sticking his head beneath the sink into the cupboard as his cell phone started to ring. He looked at the readout and frowned when his mother’s number popped up. He had half expected Ethan to be on the other end. Since he’d gotten back from Tatiana’s Thursday-night event, Ethan had gone easy on the reports and other paperwork he often sent his way. Luckily the corporate clients he and Collin regularly accompanied overseas were handling most of their business in the states during the holiday season so executives could stay home with their families, which gave him the wiggle room he needed right now. But that could change at any moment. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Is everything okay?” He and his parents typically touched base every couple weeks. They’d just talked on Friday while he waited for his plane.
“I’m fine.”
“Dad?”
“He’s good too. But I’m worried about Jules.”
His frown returned. “Mom—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she interrupted. “Julie’s not a subject for conversation where you’re concerned, but she’s going to be today. I’m very concerned.”
“All right.”
“I just got off the phone with her. She sounded really upset. She was asking all sorts of questions about her mother and her childhood.”
He gained his feet, resting his butt against the new granite. “What do you mean?”
“She wanted to know about Miranda’s teenage years and what she herself was like when they moved from Florida to Bakersfield. She was asking about baby pictures too.”
He shoved his hand in his pocket, knowing exactly what was going on—the woman from the grocery store.
“I wonder if she might not be looking for her father again.”
“No—” He lost his train of thought as Mom’s words sunk in. “Jules was looking for her father?”
Mom sighed. “Yes, Chase. She searched for him a long time ago—the year you two had your falling out, I’m pretty sure.”
“Mom—”
“She’s all alone now. Nana’s gone, and there’s no one left to keep an eye on our sweet little Jules.”
He wanted to roll his eyes. Julie was a grown woman, but his mother was right. Julie was alone. Her entire family was deceased.
“I hope you two can finally put your differences aside and work on being friends again.”
He winced, knowing his mother would give him hell if she had any idea that things were worse between them now than they’d ever been. And it was his fault. “Mom—”
“You two were so close, and for a little while, so much in love. Once upon a time, I thought Julie was going to be my daughter-in-law.” She sighed wistfully.
He did roll his eyes this time. “Jesus, Mom—”
“Nana never gave up hoping that you two would find your way back to each other,” Mom steamed right along. “I’m quite certain that’s why she left you the house.”
His brow creased again. “What are you talking about?”
“Sweetie, she left you that place with ulterior motives, along with all of the repairs.”
Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I know you’ve always had a soft spot for Jules, but come on.”
“Honey, your father’s a plumber and an electrician. He also taught you how to use every one of those tools in our garage. Do you really think he wouldn’t have handled half of the issues you’re dealing with now if Nana would have let him?”
He opened his mouth to tell her how ludicrous that sounded, then closed it.
“Nana left them for you.”
He mulled over his mother’s rationale and narrowed his eyes when it made perfect sense—the little old house in need of some major fixing up. Him having to take a few weeks off of work to come back to Bake
rsfield where his old flame still happened to live next door. “Well, son of a bitch.”
“Nana was always certain you and Julie were meant to be. I imagine this was her last attempt at throwing the two of you together, since you’re both too stubborn to do it yourselves.”
“Huh,” was all he could say.
“Nana was very clever.”
“I guess that’s one word for it.”
“My suggestion would be to not mess it up.”
Groaning, he closed his eyes. “Mom, Julie and I aren’t fated or whatever you want to call it. We grew up together and dated in high school. That’s all.”
“Invite her home for Christmas.”
With an incredulous huff, he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did she not just hear what he said?
“I know you can’t make it, but it breaks my heart to think of such a sweet woman at home by herself, especially on her favorite holiday. She took such good care of Nana. It was a comfort having her close when I couldn’t be there.”
He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “I’ll see what I can do.” The sound of scraping caught his attention, and he walked into his room, looking down at the sidewalk. “She’s outside right now. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. I love you, Chase.”
“I love you too.” He shoved his phone away and hurried downstairs. Julie was almost finished. If he wanted to catch her, he needed to make it quick. He grabbed his sweatshirt hanging from the sawhorse as he headed out the door and snatched up the shovel he kept handy. “Hey.”
She paused and looked his way. “Hi.”
“How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
He studied her when her eyes darted in his direction again, noting her pale cheeks and the dark under eye circles. Julie definitely wasn’t fine. “Jules—”
“I need to get ready for my next class.” She took her shovel with her around the side of the house, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, left him staring after her.
Clenching his jaw, he steamed out a frustrated breath. She wasn’t going to let him apologize. She’d said her goodbye, and now he was supposed to go away. But he had no intentions of walking out of her life again—not until they could part on some sort of amicable terms. Apparently Nana had thought they were soul mates, but he would settle for a truce. They’d been everything to each other once upon a time and at odds for too long. That needed to end.
He grabbed the ice melt and sprinkled the mixture on her steps and walkway, pausing when he spotted the box he’d given her among her trash at the curb. The stuffed dog he sent her one long-ago Valentine’s Day was among the garbage. “Damn it.”
Sighing, he turned away. He certainly had a mess to clean up. “Might as well start now,” he muttered as he walked back into the house. Grabbing his phone, he searched the yellow pages for Julie’s number, realizing it was the same the Kellers had always had. He considered calling the OM Studio line, but assumed Julie would have Leila take a message, so he dialed her house phone, hoping she would pick up before her next set of students came. Her voicemail kicked on instead.
“This is Jules. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”
“Jules, it’s Chase. Can you stop by after your last class tonight? I was hoping we could grab dinner or I could make something.” He didn’t know what, but he would worry about that later. “We need to talk.” He hung up and shoved his phone away, hoping that tonight they could start over again.
~~~~
Julie stepped from the shower and grabbed her towel, wrapping herself up tight. She moved to the mirror and ran a brush through her wet hair, staring at the bottle of Neutrogena next to her sink, debating whether one night without moisturizer was really that big of a deal. Reluctantly, she twisted off the cap and rubbed lotion on her face, then the rest of her body, reminding herself that she would thank herself later when her skin was soft and silky smooth. But tonight, she cared little about her beauty routine or much of anything else.
The day had been endless, the classes she typically loved to teach painfully long. It was seven o’clock, and all she wanted was her bed. With what little energy she could muster, she walked into her bedroom, stared at the comforter she’d carelessly tossed into place this morning, and walked back out. She couldn’t lie down yet. If she did, she would start thinking, and she didn’t want to do that anymore.
Wandering to the living room, she turned on the Christmas tree lights and noticed the red flash on her phone, alerting her to a message. It was tempting to ignore it, but what if Leila or Mindy had called?
Sighing, she grabbed the receiver and retrieved her messages, listening to two hang-ups before Chase’s voice filled her ear. Shaking her head, she huffed out a breath. Did he really think he needed to identify himself? Did he not realize she knew it was him before he uttered his second syllable? She frowned as he continued. Could she stop by? Then she gaped. Did she want to grab dinner? They needed to talk?
“You’ve got some nerve.” She erased the message and slammed down the phone. She didn’t want to chat over a meal and pretend everything was okay the way they had just days ago. She didn’t want to stare into his serious gray eyes and wait for one of his slow smiles. What she wanted was for Chase to pack up his stuff, stick the damn For Sale sign in his yard, and go away.
He’d made himself perfectly clear Saturday morning, and she had done the same. For ten years, she’d lived her life without him; she would continue doing the same. But even as she thought this, she rubbed at the sharp ache in her chest, knowing that once he left this time, their paths would never cross again. Why did that break her heart? Why did she still care? He’d been horrible, yet she missed him already.
At wit’s end with herself, she tossed her hands in the air and walked to the collection of Christmas movies she kept on hand. She reached for How The Grinch Stole Christmas, her favorite, but her heart kicked up its beat and her hand trembled when she heard the quick echo of children’s laughter in her head. Instead she chose A Charlie Brown Christmas, popped it in the Blu-ray player, and sat on the couch, caring little that she still wore just her towel.
She grabbed Gram’s afghan off the back cushion, curled up in the comfort of her grandmother’s long-ago gift, and fell asleep—a mercifully dreamless sleep—before Charlie’s story could begin.
Chapter Fourteen
Chase waited until four fifteen before he walked next door. He’d put in a full day adding the finishing touches to the upstairs bathroom, and it looked great. His old room and Nana’s sewing space were all that remained on his list of to-dos, and then the house would be ready for sale. But that was for tomorrow. This afternoon, he and Julie were going to settle things once and for all.
She did massage therapy on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which meant she typically knocked off fairly early—usually around four thirty or five. He was going to be there waiting for her to finish up, because they were going to have a conversation.
Julie blew him off last night, which she had every right to do. Just because he initiated another truce didn’t mean she had to accept his attempts. But if she thought he was going to shrug his shoulders and walk away this time, she was in for a surprise.
He’d almost stopped over when she didn’t show. By seven thirty, he’d grown impatient and increasingly nervous, waiting for her knock on his door. At seven forty, he’d peeked out Nana’s old sewing room window when he noticed the cheery glow from Julie’s Christmas tree. Beyond the twinkle of white lights and evergreen branches, she lay curled up on her couch asleep while Charlie Brown and his gang filled her small TV screen. And he’d officially joined his mother’s “I’m worried about Jules” campaign.
Julie was a ball of energy. She never turned in before ten. She’d changed some over the last decade, but there was no way she’d dropped her night-owl tendencies. Mom was right: Julie was rattled. Jules had assured him that the woman who looked so much like her at the grocery store made some sort of mistake, but clearly
she thought there was more to it than that. His instincts screamed that something was up—probably a con artist, and he was going to see what he could do to help Jules out, whether she liked the idea or not.
He opened the door to OM Studio, wiped his boots on the mat, and closed the cold outside before he took off his jacket and hung it on an available peg. He smiled at Leila talking on the phone at her desk when she held up her finger, signaling one minute.
“Thank you for calling, Mrs. Mickle. I hope you’re feeling better soon. Yes. I’ll put you down for next week. Okay. Bye.” She set the phone back in its cradle and crossed her arms on her desk, giving Chase her attention. “Hi.”
“Hi. Is Jules available?”
“No. She’s in with a client.”
“Do you know when she’ll have a minute?”
“She’s pretty booked today,” she said without bothering to look at the book in front of her.
He measured the woman sitting in her chair, the picture of calm, her eyes a little cool, realizing she was playing the block for Julie. He would just have to go around her. “It’s four fifteen.”
She glanced at her watch. “Yes, it is.”
“She’s usually finishing up around now.”
“She has a late appointment.”
He took a step closer, glancing at the scheduling book, noting that canceled had been written on the last slot for the day. “It looks like she’s free after all.” He pointed to Leila’s handwriting.
Leila shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“But the last appointment’s not coming.”
“We might get a walk-in. Jules likes to stay focused in between clients. I could tell her you stopped by—”
“I’ll take the appointment.”
“What?”
He struggled with a smile as she stared at him, wide-eyed. Didn’t see that one coming, huh? Clearly Leila didn’t understand that he’d spent the last several years maneuvering people to get the information or results he wanted. “I said I’ll take the last appointment.”