Chasing Julia (Rhode Island Romance #2)

by Sophia Renny

  The scene switched to an interview with Willa. The drawing was on the table in front of her. “I was very surprised when I opened the front door,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t expecting the brothers to be so…young… They seemed very competent. Tony asked some good questions. Joe seems to like old furniture.”

  “It sounds like keeping that wall unit intact is important to you,” the faceless interviewer opined.

  “Yes. I didn’t realize until that moment just how important it would be.” Willa’s voice was shaky. “I’m not sure how they’ll be able to work around it. I’m really looking forward to seeing the designs they come up with.”

  Cut to commercial.

  “How many times did the camera zoom in on his face since the last commercial?” Hannah asked. “I got distracted.”

  “Twice.”

  Hannah poured another shot for both of them. “Bottom’s up.” They each threw one shot back and then another in quick succession.

  Julia swiped her hand across her mouth. She was beginning to feel slightly drunk. Maybe more than slightly. Her head was buzzing. Her heart felt numb. But her heart had felt numb since May. Nothing new there. She asked Hannah to pour another shot.

  The next few scenes moved at a quicker pace. Willa and her friend Collette went to Joe and Tony’s office to take a look at the designs. Julia’s hearing was a little fuzzy as she watched Willa offer the guys a tin of cookies. A voiceover obscured whatever conversation was taking place as the announcer mentioned in a jovial tone that Willa had made cookies, but that she might take them back if she didn’t like the designs the guys had come up with. Everyone sat down at a conference table. Then the screen split, showing the 3-D designs on one half and Willa and Collette’s reactions on the other.

  Hannah guffawed when Collette said “Holy Crap” on camera. “That lady’s a riot.”

  “I’ve met her,” Julia said, her voice sounding slurred to her own ears. “She and her friends are all the same. A little nosy and loud. But nice.”

  The camera was now focused on a conversation between Joe and Willa. He was promising her that he would come up with some way to keep a part of the wall unit and Willa’s happy memories of her aunt in the kitchen. A close-up of his solemn face as Willa agreed to his plans faded to an interview with Willa: “It wasn’t an easy decision. But Joe promised that he’d keep my aunt’s memory in that room. I believe him… I can tell when someone is lying to me. Joe doesn’t lie.”

  Except to himself, Julia thought, bitterness showing its ugly claws.

  She must have spoken the words out loud. Hannah flung her arm around Julia’s shoulders. “We’re halfway through. You want to keep watching?”

  Julia nodded her head before resting it on her friend’s shoulder.

  Now it was demolition day. Hannah laughed at images of the petite and plump Collette in her goggles helping Joe tear out some kitchen cabinets. And there was Willa swinging a sledgehammer at the dining room wall. She looked angry. Tony interrupted her work and asked her to come into the kitchen to see the progress Joe and Collette had made.

  Julia lifted her head from Hannah’s shoulder and perked up her ears. Something had changed between Joe and Willa since the meeting in the office. There was a new kind of tension in the air, so palpable Julia could almost feel it. Joe was explaining that he’d been able to keep the wall unit intact and asking if Willa would like to have it installed in her garage.

  “Why?” Willa asked, her voice curt. “I don’t need a cabinet in the garage.”

  “Storage?”

  “This wood is too pretty to be in a garage. You said you’d make something out of the material.”

  “Yes, I did. I just wanted to check with you first.”

  “That’s what I want. I want you to make something that will keep my aunt in this room. Like you said you would.”

  “And I will.”

  Joe’s voice was gentle and patient, but his expression was impassive. It was very clear that Willa was anxious about the cabinet, and he was trying to soothe her. But there was something else there, an underlying conversation taking place. The cameras focused on the two of them just standing there looking at each other.

  And then Tony stepped into the picture. “Well, it looks like we’ve answered that question. Let’s get out of the way now and let the crew haul this outside. Willa, do you want to help me rip out the carpet in the upstairs bedrooms?”

  “She looked pissed off about something,” Hannah commented.

  Tony’s face appeared on the screen in a confession cam interview. “Willa’s a little nervous about what Joe is planning to do with that cabinet, but we’re both confident she’ll like what he comes up with. It’s going to take a couple weeks for Joe to put something together. In the meantime, we’ve come up with some unexpected issues on the North Providence house, and he and I have decided to divvy up the work to keep both of these projects on track. So, it’ll just be me managing this project now.”

  “Huh,” Hannah said. She twisted her head towards Julia and raised one eyebrow. “Wonder what happened behind the scenes there. Did Tony tell you?”

  “He said he’d told Willa about me and warned Joe to back off. This must be around that time.”

  And Joe, to his credit, had tried hard to stay away. He’d told Julia of his struggles, how much he’d fought to rid himself of his feelings for Willa.

  So much of their conversation on that horrible day was still a blur, but Julia did remember the agony in his voice when he’d said: “This is the first time I’ve ever gone back on a promise I’ve made. The thought of hurting you has been tearing me apart.”

  “I can see how this series is going to be a big hit with the ladies,” Hannah said, tugging Julia out of her thoughts. “Tony is serious eye candy. Look at the way he’s swinging that hammer.”

  Julia returned her focus to the screen, watching as Tony nailed down some boards on a staircase and then helped his crew install drywall. The scenes were moving quickly now as the voiceover narration explained the various stages of the project and how smoothly things were coming along.

  “He’s so natural in front of the camera,” Hannah went on. “Joe was kind of stiff, but Tony looks like he’s been doing this for years.”

  “It was his idea to do the show. Joe went along with it. He’s always put Tony and Sylvie first.”

  Hannah made a noncommittal sound in response as they watched Tony and Willa strolling through an appliance store. Next they visited a furniture warehouse. As the segment continued, Julia found her eyes drawn more towards Tony than to Willa. He really was a natural, like Hannah said. He had a confident, take-charge demeanor that was balanced with a genuine, good-natured charm. He seemed to light up the screen.

  He hadn’t always been so good-natured, she thought, recalling some of the arguments she’d had with him during his teenage years. He was the only person she’d ever fought with like that—fierce, verbal battles that made her face red and her heart race out of control.

  Tony’s Uncle Nick had put a stop to Tony’s belligerence towards Julia when Tony was eighteen. Nick had been on leave from a tour of duty in Afghanistan and was staying at the Rossetti house. Julia was over at their house one afternoon preparing dinner. She heard Tony’s car pulling into the driveway; he was home from school. He strolled into the kitchen, tossed his backpack on the table and yanked open the refrigerator door. He stood there in the opening as he drank milk straight from the carton, his head thrown back, his profile smirking.

  It was clearly intentional. He knew how much this bothered her; she’d asked him too many times before to use a glass. He was a senior in high school, full of testosterone and feelings of male invincibility.

  “Tony,” she asked quietly. “Please use a glass. And close the door. You’re letting all the cold air out.”

  He took a few more gulps before closing the lid on the carton and putting it back on the top shelf of the refrigerator. His movements were slow and deliberate as he close
d the door and turned to face her. “What does it matter to you? You’re not the one paying the bills.”

  “And neither are you. It’s Joe who’s working his ass off to keep the lights on around here.”

  Something washed across his features that looked like shame. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. His mouth twisted. He took a step closer to her. “I’ve got a job. I help out where I can. When are you going to get a real job, princess? When are you going to stop playing house with us and go out into the real world?”

  She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to stand firm and to not reveal how much his words hurt. He was a few inches taller than she. She was suddenly aware, as she’d never been before, of how much his body had filled out in the last year or two. His shoulders were broader, his arms more muscular. The planes and angles of his face were more chiseled. He was becoming a man. But he was behaving like a boy.

  “I have a real job.”

  “Yeah. Working for your mom and dad. The interview process for that must have been real grueling. Why aren’t you at your job now? I’m eighteen. I can take care of Sylvie. We don’t need you here playing mother anymore.”

  She put her hands on her hips. As much as she tried to keep an even keel, she couldn’t prevent her voice from raising a couple of decibels. “You may be eighteen. But you still act like you’re twelve. And you can gripe all you want about what I’m doing here. I’m not leaving. I am your brother’s girlfriend. I have a right to be here.”

  His face reddened. His eyes narrowed in a look of resentment. “You’re just a convenience. Joe doesn’t have time to find a real girlfriend.”

  Her mouth fell open. Her heart constricted with pain. It was the most hurtful thing Tony had ever said to her. In the past, she’d been able to brush aside his antagonism, maintaining sympathy for the fact that he’d lost both of his parents in a tragic fire when he was only twelve years old. His antipathy towards her was normal and understandable. He had put up boundaries a few weeks after the funeral, making it very clear to Julia that she was not and never would be a replacement for his mother.

  And she’d respected those boundaries. She’d been able to work around the bad times with him because there had been some good times, too. Like the time when he was fourteen, and they’d all gone to Narragansett Beach, and he’d tried to teach her how to surf. He’d been very patient with her awkward attempts to stay upright on the board; there’d been a lot of teasing and laughter that day. Or the time when he was sixteen and going on his first real date. He’d asked her for advice on what to wear and how to behave like a proper gentleman. Or that hot August Saturday afternoon, just before he turned eighteen, when the two of them had been waiting for Joe while he met with a client in South Kingstown. They’d had a few hours to kill, and Tony decided to take her crabbing. They’d stopped at a local market to buy a pack of chicken wings and some twine and then drove to one of Tony’s secret fishing spots along Point Judith Pond, a place that his father had taken him and Joe to fish when they were boys.

  He’d parked the car in the shade at the end of a bumpy, unpaved, densely tree-lined road, retrieved their purchased items from the trunk along with a fishing net and a bucket and led her down an almost invisible path to the water’s edge. There hadn’t been anyone else around. The day had been hot and humid. Julia remembered that she’d been wearing a white skirt and matching tank top in cool cotton. Deciding she didn’t want to get dirty, she’d strolled out to the end of an old, wooden pier while Tony searched along the muddy shoreline for some long sticks.

  When he joined her on the pier, they worked in companionable silence, attaching lengths of twine to one end of each of the sticks he’d found, then tying a chicken wing to the other end of the twine. They set up four rigs in all, pushed the sticks into grooves between the narrow wood slats of the pier and then threw the chicken wings out into the water, watching as the bait sank to the bottom. Tony pulled in the slack on each of the lines and then kicked off his flip-flops and sat down, legs dangling off the edge of the pier. Julia removed her sandals and sat down beside him.

  “Now we wait,” he said, sounding relaxed and happy.

  She remembered that they hadn’t talked much. They’d simply enjoyed the sunshine and the cool water lapping against their feet. She remembered wishing that she could have moments like these with Joe; he was always so busy—working long, backbreaking hours to keep the family business running and his brother and sister fed and clothed.

  She remembered the twine on the stick closest to her starting to dance and Tony’s calm voice in her ear as he helped her slowly and steadily pull the string towards the pier. As the blue crab came into sight, its claws digging possessively into the chicken wing, Tony told her to keep pulling while he grabbed the net and prepared to bag their catch. He lay on his stomach next to her, arm outstretched.

  “Pull up!” he shouted.

  She gave the string a firm yank, and Tony scooped the net under the crab. He gave a buoyant whoop of laughter as he captured the crab and lifted the net. She shrieked when he brought the net too close to her. He’d toyed with her for a few seconds, pretending he was losing control of the net, and she’d scrabbled backwards on her bottom along the pier, laughing and pleading with him to stop at the same time.

  That had been a fun afternoon. Tony had been so nice to her, almost sweet.

  Now, standing in the kitchen that suddenly felt confining, she couldn’t think of a word to say to his cruel remark. She felt pinpricks of tears threatening to fall. Her mouth wobbled.

  Tony’s dark eyebrows shot up; his harsh features melted into a contrite expression. But it was too late for apologies. Nick, who must’ve been standing in the hallway and listening to their argument, came storming into the room, all six feet, five, muscle-packed inches of him. He grabbed Tony by his shirt collar and hauled him out the backdoor to the fence-enclosed yard where he’d proceeded to beat the crap out of his nephew. Nick’s movements were controlled, his expression taut and grim as he pounded his fists into Tony’s face and then across his shoulders, back and ribs when Tony hunched over in an effort to avoid the punches.

  Julia had stood on the doorstep, hands pressed to her face as she watched in shocked silence. She wasn’t used to violence. Being an only child, she’d lived a fairly sheltered life and avoided any kind of physical altercation. At the same time, she felt relieved that Nick had stepped in. Joe was so seldom home; he’d never witnessed Tony’s antagonism towards Julia. And she’d never shared it with him because she didn’t want to burden him. Joe already had too much on his plate.

  Tears streamed down her face as she watched Tony take his punishment. But when he began to groan and plead for mercy, she called out beseechingly, “Stop, Nick! Please stop. That’s enough.”

  Nick gave Tony a harsh shove to the ground, then lifted him back up again by his collar. He got in close to his nephew’s face and said calmly and coolly, “If you ever treat that sweet lady with disrespect again, you can consider this as just a dress rehearsal. Next time, I won’t pull any punches.”

  He released Tony’s collar and stalked back into the house. Tony swayed on his feet, looking ready to pass out. Blood streamed from his nose and one corner of his mouth. Julia ran towards him but halted less than a foot away as he held out a stopping hand. “Don’t,” he said in a choking voice.

  “Come into the house. I’ll put some ice on your face.”

  “No. I’ll do it myself.”

  She didn’t realize that she was still crying until Tony reached out and touched her cheek with a shaking hand. His fingers traced her damp skin. His light brown eyes glistened with his own tears. He looked absolutely shattered. “I’m sorry, Julia,” he rasped. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole to you. I promise I’ll never make you cry again.”

  And he hadn’t.

  Strangely, though, over the years, she’d sometimes found herself thinking back on those arguments and recalling how energized and animated she’d felt.
Of everyone she’d ever known in her thirty-three years, Tony was the only person who’d been able to stir such passionate depths of emotion inside of her.

  Sometimes she missed that side of her nature.

  “Jules. Jules! Are you even paying attention to this? After this commercial, they’re going to Joe’s cabinet shop to see what he’s done with that wall unit.” Hannah’s face loomed in front of Julia, tugging her out of her vodka-soaked reverie.

  “Huh?”

  “Okay. No more shots for you. You look ready to crash.”

  Julia blinked. “I’m fine. Jus’ thinking about Tony.”

  “Tony? Why?”

  “He’s never made me cry. He did once. A long time ago. But not anymore.”

  Hannah patted Julia’s hand. Her own voice was slurred. “That’s good. That’s good. No one should make you cry.”

  “Joe made me cry.”

  “Yeah, he did. But you’re gonna move on. You’re gonna find a guy worthy of your love.”

  “Joe wasn’t worthy.”

  “No… Look there he is.”

  Joe’s face loomed on the screen. He looked tired and a little grim as he explained that he was fabricating two different furniture pieces out of the kitchen wall unit. One would go in Willa’s new kitchen; the other would go in the bakery Willa was planning to open on Thayer Street.

  And then Willa was entering Joe’s cabinet shop, and he was showing her a wooden bench he’d built, and he put his hand real close to hers on the bench—their pinkies almost touched—and they looked at each other like the cameras weren’t even in the room.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Julia wailed.

  Hannah turned off the television and tossed the remote aside before dragging Julia into a fierce hug and rocking her back and forth. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with you, honey.”