Becoming Juliet

by Paula Marinaro

  Besides, Juliet liked it in Port Harbor, with its tall ponderosa pines and craggy coastline. She had never lived in a place with all four seasons, and Juliet looked forward to having that experience. Autumn was coming on quickly. She couldn’t wait to see the vibrant color of fall leaves as they changed and fell. And close on its heels would be winter, with its crystal icicles and white drifting snow. Juliet looked forward to the solitude that it would bring. Roaring fires in the fireplace, piles of books, warm fluffy socks, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.

  So, with ardent purpose, strong resolve, and the grains of medicinal optimism still lingering on her tongue, Juliet turned her car around and headed back home.

  When Juliet turned into the driveway to the cabin, she groaned inwardly at the sight of the Dumont family’s SUV.

  Layla was sitting on the front porch of the log cabin. When she saw Juliet’s car, Layla stood up and waved like she was trying out for a spot on The Wheel of Fortune.

  “Hey there! I just stopped by to bring you the extra set of keys that I promised.” Layla’s hair was windblown, and her smile was wide as she dangled the key ring up in the air.

  When Juliet stepped onto the porch, Layla tossed the keys to her.

  “Thanks.” Juliet caught them easily in her hand.

  “Sure, no problem. I meant to get out here sooner, but between the kids’ afterschool stuff and everything else that I have to do, time just slips away. I’m probably gonna end up being a shitty landlady when it comes to checking up on things.” Layla said with a self -deprecating laugh. “How’s the house holding up? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s great. Everything is good. Thanks for stopping by with the keys.” Juliet moved towards the screen door hoping to send Layla along. The stress of the morning had left Juliet with a seething headache. Despite the fact that it was much too soon to even think about going to bed for the night, Juliet wanted to draw the shades, lie down on the bed, and put an end to this day.

  Layla gave Juliet a sympathetic look as she headed down the porch steps. “Headache?”

  “Raging.” Juliet grimaced.

  “Lie down, cool cloth, shades pulled. I get migraines, too.”

  “I haven’t had one in a while, but it’s been a stressful day.” Juliet’s own words surprised her. She knew that she had just given Layla an invitation to pry. But really, Layla did not seem the sort who needed an invite. It had been so long since Juliet had had a conversation that was not clinically driven, she thought it might be nice to have someone to talk to. And she found she wanted to talk to Layla. Juliet wanted to unburden herself from some of the horror that still gripped her, she just didn’t quite know how.

  “Is everything okay?” Layla frowned and leaned in.

  “Yeah, I think it is. I think it will be.”

  “But you’re not sure?”

  Juliet began to tug at her hair. “It’s …uh…a friend of mine. Sometimes things upset her that’s all.”

  Layla reached out and put her hand over Juliet’s. The touch was so light and fleeting it felt like the faint flutter of butterfly wings. It was just enough to interrupt that triggered response and stop Juliet from tugging her hair out.

  Layla surprised Juliet with a quick, hard hug.

  “It’s okay, honey.” Layla said. “We don’t have to talk about it. I’m a nosy little thing. You’re right, it’s none of my business. Besides, it’s got to hurt to pull on your hair like that.”

  Juliet frowned. “It’s a reflexive action. I do it when I get nervous, or agitated. Not that you agitate me!” She was quick to add, because the last thing that Juliet wanted to do was to be rude or hurt Layla’s feelings. “And I didn’t say that you were being nosy!”

  “Yea, hon, you did, in your own distressed, silent sort of way.” Layla said gently. “I hope your friend will be okay.”

  “She left her marriage.” Juliet blurted out.

  “Oh, that’s never easy.” Layla leaned in again. “Is she having second thoughts?”

  “Oh no! Absolutely no second thoughts.” Juliet squeaked out in alarm. She had never discussed Kenny. Not with anyone that wasn’t a federal agent or a shrink. She heard her voice tremble, and she knew that Layla could hear it too. Juliet felt the crazy creep back in when she whispered fervently, “He was not a man at all. He was a monster. A fiend, a beast who did unspeakable things and committed heinous acts.”

  If Layla had been alarmed at the terrifying description or the urgent tone of Juliet’s voice, she didn’t show it.

  “That’s awful. Poor girl.” Layla clucked her tongue in sympathy.

  “He hurt a lot of people.” Juliet whispered.

  “Bastard.”

  “My friend blames herself. She thinks that maybe she could have stopped him.”

  “Why would she think that?” Layla puzzled.

  “She just does.”

  “That’s a lot to carry.” Layla shook her head. Then asked, “did she love him?”

  “Once. She did once. With all her heart.” Juliet’s voice was full of sorrow. “And it shattered her when she found out who he really was, what he had done.”

  “What did she do then? What did your friend do when she found out?” Layla asked gently.

  “She ran. She told.” Juliet’s eyes went wide in her face and brightened with tears. But her chin lifted just a little.

  “Your friend is a very brave woman.” Layla’s tone was firm and sure.

  “Brave?”

  “Very.”

  “She doesn’t think she’s brave.” Juliet shook her head.

  A sudden blast of cool wind blew through the air, rattling the wind chimes, and howling through the trees.

  “What does she think she is?” Layla asked as she pulled her jacket closer around her.

  “Stupid.” Juliet shivered when a cloud passed over the sun. “She thinks she should have known. And she wonders how he found her.”

  “What do you mean, honey?” Layla reached out and held Juliet’s hand in her own.

  Juliet felt Layla’s strength in the grip of her fingers and held on for dear life.

  “She wonders how men like him find women like her. He must have known, must have seen something in her. Something that told him she’d be too dumb to see what was right in front of her nose.”

  “Well, you tell your friend, she isn’t the first and won’t be the last woman who’s gotten fooled by a man.” Layla sighed. “Love isn’t only blind, it’s deaf and dumb, too.”

  “She thinks that maybe he picked her because he thought she was a coward. That she’d be too afraid to tell.” Juliet pressed on. The misery evident in every sound, every syllable.

  Layla gave Juliet a long searching look. Then her voice rang out loud, clear, and strong enough to penetrate through the barrier of emotion that Juliet’s words had built.

  “But your friend did tell. Didn’t she?’ Layla said with vehemence. “So, in the end, he was the stupid one. He misjudged her, didn’t he? Because no matter how much your friend loved her husband, or the personal cost or consequences that telling might bring, your friend knew the right thing to do and she did it. A woman like that? She’s no dummy and certainly not a coward. I would never call her those things.”

  “What would you call her?” Juliet asked even as she held her breath.

  “A warrior.” Layla replied without hesitation. “I’d call a woman like that a goddamn warrior.”

  “So, you got something for me?” P.J. picked up the phone on the first ring.

  “Uh…hello to you, too.” Reginald Dumont replied.

  “Don’t be a pain in my ass, Reggie.”

  After a couple of days of thinking over the card incident with Juliet, P.J. had decided to do some investigating.

  “Don’t have much for you, man.” Reggie said. “Layla really didn’t have Juliet give her a lot on the lines of information when she rented the place. I looked through the stuff last night, and it looks like Layla didn’t ask Juliet for references
or prior workplaces.”

  P.J. sat outside, lit up a smoke, and looked across the stream bank to Juliet’s cabin. Lights blazed softly from the curtained windows. P.J. had noticed that Juliet never kept the house completely dark, even in the middle of the night. Recently there had been a few security motion lights installed around the parameter of the property, he assumed that had been at Juliet’s request.

  “So why did Layla let Juliet get away without providing the usual kind of reference check? It’s run of the mill stuff.” P.J. asked.

  “Who the hell knows?” Reggie grumbled in resignation. “You know Layla…she does whatever the hell she wants. And honestly, I don’t give two shits about references at this point, that cabin’s been empty for too long now as it is. The chick looks pretty harmless, so I was down with the decision to hand those keys over, no questions asked.”

  “So, did Juliet pay up front? How much green did she put down?” P.J. stomped out the butt of his cigarette, then reached into the cooler and grabbed himself a beer.

  “Yeah, first, last and a security, that’s a pretty good chunk of cash, so I don’t think she plans on skipping out any time soon, if that’s what you’re wondering. Why are you wondering by the way? You interested in your new little neighbor? Got to say, Juliet doesn’t seem your type, man.”

  “I don’t have a type.”

  “I’d say the strippers over at the Wolves Den might disagree.” Reggie rasped out a chuckle.

  P.J. growled into the phone.

  “Seriously man, I honestly don’t know much.” Reggie continued. “I only know the basics…name is Juliet Jones, and she’s from Boston, Mass. That’s according to the half assed job she did filling out the lease agreement, but no doubt she could have lied on that. Not sure why she would, but who knows.”

  “So, nothing on references, previous residence?”

  “Like I said.”

  “What’s she doing here? She working?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Really? So, you ain’t shittin’ me when you say you got nothing. How is that even possible?” P.J. scrubbed a hard hand through his hair. “Tele-gram, tele-phone, tell-a-Layla.” P.J. and Reggie had recited that old joke too many times to count. “Your woman is always down with knowing all there is to know and likes to share.”

  Now, even as P.J. was talking to Reggie and enjoying a beer out on the deck, he kept an eye on Juliet’s house. P.J. sat up in his chair in wide alert when he saw Juliet’s silhouette pass in front of the curtains to her bedroom. Then she stopped in front of the slider and opened the door. For a few moments, Juliet stood still under the star studded sky. With arms heavily laden with an unyielding contraption…a telescope… Layla set the long cylinder up on its frame then tilted it towards the stars. Juliet leaned in, put her eye to the lens and looked through it to view the constellations. She was wearing a soft flannel shirt whose neckline formed a deep v. It was short and covered the top of Juliet’s thighs. Her legs were toned and bare. When the wind breezed up in a sudden spin of fury, the gust lifted and twisted the hem of the short shirt up and around Juliet’s waist, P.J. was gratified to see that his little neighbor apparently liked expensive, lacy panties.

  Juliet let out a gasp of shock and surprise when the cool air tickled her. Then she laughed out loud as she played against the wind. Juliet giggled as she pulled and tugged down on her shirt in an effort to cover herself up. Once mission was accomplished, Juliet took one last look at the stars, and inhaled one long, deep, cleansing breath of the crisp night air, before she fled the magic of the starry night and disappeared back into the cabin.

  P.J. groaned out a growl of disappointment to see the moment end. Because watching Juliet dancing carefree under a star lit sky, half naked with the wind teasing her clothing and making her giggle? That had been like a gift. It was as if destiny and nature had conspired to give him the most naturally erotic and beautiful spectacle that he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

  And it certainly had an effect on P.J. His crotch had tightened, his mouth had gone dry, his thoughts had turned impure. An almost impossible urge surged through his body. P.J. was filled with the barely contained need to course through the land that separated Juliet and him. He wanted to fly over the stream, scale the walls to that balcony, crash through the glass door, strip her down, tie her up and claim her as his own.

  “You still there, man?” Reggie’s voice cut through the fog of P.J.’s yearning.

  “Yeah, I’m still here.” P.J. shot back, but in truth he had completely forgotten that Reggie was still on the phone. He forced himself to refocus. “I’m just wondering what’s up with Layla, and why is it that she picked this particular time to go radio silent.”

  “Serious when I tell you, I don’t know. But you’re right. Layla has for sure dummied up on this one. If she knows anything more about Juliet, then she ain’t saying.”

  “You tell Layla that it was me who was asking?”

  “Yeah, I told her.” Reggie said. “I have your back, man. I made it clear to Layla how I felt about her holding back on getting all the pertinent information on a tenant. I also told her that it was only fair that you should know who the hell it is that you’re sharing a property line with.”

  “And?”

  “Layla gave me the look. Then she clammed up like a prize oyster and muttered something about Girl Code.”

  The next day at work P.J. asked Vivian Welch about Girl Code.

  “Girl Code?” Vivian repeated as she snapped her gum and pulled an earbud out of her left ear. Viv was always late for work, full of adolescent angst, and a real pain in the ass. But she was a whizz at cleaning, and stocking shelves was apparently her thing.

  “It’s like the Holy Grail of do’s and don’ts when it comes to you and your girls. No one messes with the big G.C. It’s like the ten commandments. Except they’re not written down anywhere. They’re like… unspoken. There’s lots of them, but the big three are the Don’t Evers. Don’t Ever leave your girl drunk in a bar, Don’t Ever go after your girl’s ex. And Don’t Ever go blabbing something she told you in confidence. That right there is Girl Code.”

  P.J. took a moment to consider Layla’s invocation of Girl Code. He decided to go with the third rule of the Big Three; never blab about something told in confidence. He would love to find out just what the said in confidence thing was. Something was seriously up with Juliet Jones. P.J. could smell trouble a mile away and this woman was knee deep in it. P.J. decided it might be interesting to find out exactly what the problem was.

  It was a couple of weeks before P.J. saw Juliet again. When she spied him at the register she poised uncertainly at the entrance of the market.

  “Morning.”

  P.J. gave Juliet a dismissive nod, then went back to waiting on Judy Nelson who had three kids in diapers and was currently pregnant with twins. P.J. sold Judy diapers at cost. And P.J. also bought Judy’s husband, Finn, a drink every Saturday night at the Watering Hole. He was a good guy, Finn, one and done and then he’d go on home to his wife and kids.

  “You think Timmy could give us a ride home?” Judy adjusted the baby on her hip and winced as he grabbed a fist full of her hair. The other two stood like little soldiers on either side of their mom and grinned when P.J. handed them each a lollipop.

  “Sure. Truck down again?”

  “Nope.” Judy gave him a proud smile. “We traded the old beast in for a mini-van. Finn dropped me off here and went to Old Town to pick it up.”

  “Well, glad to hear it.” P.J. said it and meant it. He was glad that the Nelsons were replacing the rust bucket of a truck. They sure as hell were gonna need something reliable for their growing tribe. “Timmy’s out in the yard breaking up boxes. You can go right through to the back exit and tell him I said to give you a ride home. He has the keys to the van with him.”

  “You’re a doll. P.J. McCabe.” Judy Nelson smiled at him and when she turned around, her protruding belly hit Juliet ‘s own very flat hips
.

  “And to think that I’m only in my fifth month.” Judy apologized with a tired smile. Then she took her expansive baby bump, her three tow headed littles, and headed for the door.

  “So, what do you think about the golden boy bailing on the Pats?” P.J. wasn’t sure how to approach a conversation with Juliet, but he figured he would go with something safe. Since there was really not much to say about the weather, he decided to go with the sports angle.

  “I’m sorry?” She questioned cautiously.

  He lifted his chin towards the top of her head. “The hat. You’re wearing a New England Patriots cap. Figured you were a fan.”

  “Oh.” Juliet reached up and touched the bill of her hat as if just remembering it was there. “To be honest, I happened to be driving through Massachusetts, and I bought this at a convenience store to keep the sun off my eyes.”

  P.J. raised an eyebrow at her.

  “What?” She asked.

  “When I asked Reggie about you, he said you had lived in Boston.”

  Now it was Juliet’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Why did you ask Reggie about me?”

  “You know, just curious in a who’s the new neighbor kind of way.”

  “I guess that’s reasonable.” Juliet frowned and began to tug at a small piece of hair. “What did he tell you?”

  “Not much. Just that you put down Boston as a former address.”

  “Yes, yes I did put down Boston.” Juliet said and left it at that.

  “You have a lot of tattoos.” Juliet decided to steer the conversation away from herself and back to him. And really, having no tattoos herself, but definitely having a few parts of her body she would like to have covered, Juliet was honestly interested in all the ink that P.J. was sporting.

  “Uh-huh.” He nodded and waited. P.J. had gotten his first tattoo when he was fourteen years old. He had noticed early on that the ink was like a chick magnet. Those bad boys had gotten him laid more often than any cheesy pick up line would have done.