Becoming Juliet

by Paula Marinaro

  “I know. I know that you would never purposefully hurt me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I mean that you not letting the past go, that will hurt me.” Then she paused and added. “That will hurt us.”

  “Us?” P.J. arched his brow in question. “Is there gonna be an us, Juliet?”

  Juliet didn’t answer right away, instead she stared out the window to where the last of the sunlight faded from the horizon. The end of the day had finally come. The bruised sky had turned a deep violet and streaks of pale pink painted the horizon. The dying embers of the fire cast Juliet’s skin in a honeyed glow. P.J. could see the delicate rise and fall of Juliet’s chest as she breathed. When she looked at him, her expression was unreadable, and P.J. felt something catch in his throat as he wondered what her answer would be.

  “I think there already is.” A shy smile finally appeared. “I think there already is an us.”

  “You can trust me, Juliet.” P.J. kept his voice even and steady. But inside he was fist pumping the air.

  He held his breath as she moved towards him. Then, Juliet took P.J.’s hand and led him to the bedroom. But before they crossed the threshold, he stopped her.

  His expression serious, his voice a low growl when he said, “Last night, that just sort of happened. But this? Now? There is no going back from what happens next. This makes you mine.”

  After a marathon love-making session, they lay spent and tumbled side by side like the survivors of a shipwreck. When P.J. gathered his strength to move, he pulled Juliet back into his arms. She nuzzled against his chest.

  Then she stiffened in shock beside him. “Oh my god. I left the stew in the crockpot. It’s gonna burn down the house!”

  “It has an off timer on it” P.J. answered drowsily.

  “But I should clean up! And my car! Layla said she thought you had it towed to the junk yard! You wouldn’t …”

  “Go to sleep, Juliet.” He whispered and kissed the top of her head. “We can start arguing again in the morning. But for now, just feel how strong my arms are around you. Feel how safe you are with me and rest.”

  At his words, Juliet could do nothing more than give in. And for the first time in a very, very long time she slept deeply. She dreamed of being hidden in a lion’s lair, tucked safely by his side while he shook his mighty mane and roared his mighty roar at anyone or anything that dared get too close to her.

  Hours later, P.J. stoked the embers of the fire, lit a joint, and sat back on the couch. Deep in thought, he added log after log to the hearth until he felt the heat rise in the room to an oppressive intensity. Suddenly it all became too much for him. The blood red flames, the loud crackling sound of dying wood, the suffocating heat, the spinning wheels of his own thoughts. P.J. stepped outside into the cold, wet night. The clouds that had covered the sky for days had finally begun to clear. A handful of stars twinkled triumphantly in the sky; their lights were brilliant and clear now that the clouds that had covered them had disappeared.

  What a goddamn day, really you couldn’t make this shit up. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around how Juliet had managed to get herself stuck like that. When he was fooling around with her car today, P.J. had been able to rescue a few things from the wreckage. Juliet’s purse must have gone flying when she stepped into the mud because her things were scattered everywhere. P.J. had found a pair of sunglasses, a tube of lip gloss, a small hairbrush, keys, and a candy bar. He had also been able to retrieve Juliet’s wallet, although it was more of a small, quilted, cotton case than anything else. P.J.’s mother had one just like it and he thought they were ridiculous. In P.J.’s opinion, a wallet should be made out of something sturdy, like cowhide. As if to illustrate his point, the cotton material had soaked up all that heavy rainfall like a sponge. When P.J. retrieved the flowery cotton case from the ground, it was heavy in his hands.

  P.J. had given Juliet back her purse, and the other items he had found. But when she asked about her wallet, he told her he hadn’t found it. Anyone would be worried about losing something that was so important, and Juliet was no exception. P.J. knew that lying to her had been a dick move. To make matters worse, he had also told Juliet that he would go back and look first thing in the morning. When she sweetly smiled her gratitude, P.J. had felt like the worst kind of bastard and her guileless appreciation had given him a serious kick to the nuts. But still, P.J. had held on to that lie.

  Now, he was back in from the cold and the wallet lay in front of him on the coffee table, like a serpent ready to strike.

  Because he had the strong feeling that what he was about to do could change everything, P.J. gave his next action some careful consideration. He reflected on the last few months that he had spent with Juliet. He frowned when he thought about how that haunted look still flashed in Juliet’s eyes sometimes, and at how those sad scars stained her wrists. But then, P.J. grinned thinking about Juliet’s little pointed ears, and the tiny wisps of hair on her head that had refused to grow back. P.J. marveled at how brave Juliet had been out in the storm, and how she had put her life in his hands.

  His expression softened when he remembered how right she felt in his arms.

  P.J.’s eyes grew hard when he thought about the lies that Juliet had told him, and the truths that she still refused to reveal.

  He knew that he was starting to fall hard for her. So, P.J. asked himself the tough questions; he asked if those lies, those secrets that Juliet held on to so tightly, really mattered. After all, everyone had secrets, didn’t they?

  P.J. pondered long and hard.

  He thought about what truth, honesty and trust meant to him, would always mean to him. P.J. knew without those things a relationship with Juliet would not be possible, that it would never stand a chance. So P.J. poured himself another shot, rolled himself another joint, and smoked his last cigarette.

  Then he reached for the wallet.

  It was early December and a frigid wind had made the large snowflakes freeze. Juliet could feel the pinpricks of ice as they slapped against her cheeks. She was wearing a red down parka, and matching slouch hat and mittens. Juliet’s legs were clad in thick black leggings while warm furry boots covered her feet. Her head was bent as she made her way to the bistro where Layla was waiting.

  When Juliet entered the restaurant, Layla marveled once again at the change in her friend. The pretty woman with the sparkling eyes, ready smile and cute ski parka bore little resemblance to the shy, sad, hooded woman who had rented the cabin from Layla just months before. When she saw Juliet scan the room looking for her, Layla waved her over.

  “How’s work going?” Layla asked Juliet after they had placed an order for two cobb salads, and a small carafe of white wine.

  “I really like it.” Juliet smiled. The last time she had been in the salon for a cut and blow out, Rafael had been bemoaning the fact that his part- time receptionist had quit. Although Juliet had no experience, she had offered to fill in until he could find someone else. Rafael had been thrilled with the idea. He had given Juliet a generous hourly wage and a twenty-hour weekly schedule. Juliet did everything from booking appointments to cleaning stations. Rafael was flamboyant, dramatic, and fun to be around. Abraham, Nevaeh, and Bethany were the three other hair stylists in the shop. They were each friendly, nice, and quirky in their own way. Abraham had a particularly sharp wit, Nevaeh had a different hair color every week, and Bethany had the mouth of a sailor.

  There was no shortage of laughter, gossip, and camaraderie in the salon. At first, Juliet was slightly jarred by the carefree and spontaneous atmosphere. It was so different from the somber, stuffy academic world that she had come from. But it didn’t take long for Juliet to get acclimated, and now she looked forward to her workdays.

  “Everyone is in such a good mood, getting all glammed up for this party or that. We are booked solid. Rafael has, of course, gone over the top with holiday decorations.” Juliet’s voice was filled with enthusiasm. “I’ve never se
en anything like it!”

  “I’ll be in next week.” Layla said between bites of her salad. “Cut, color, foils. Damn holidays are so much work. Reggie needs a haircut, and the kid’s need new outfits. We do the family pajama thing, too. I am going to have to schedule in a mani- pedi, and facial. It takes so much more work to look good when you get older.”

  “You’re gorgeous and you aren’t even out of your thirties yet!” Juliet thought Layla could wear a paper bag on her head and still somehow manage to look beautiful.

  “So, how are things going with you and P.J.?” Layla leaned back and took a sip of her wine. “He missed the last couple of Thirsty Thursdays. He told Reggie that he was bringing pizza and wings over to your place to watch Thursday night football. Sounds like you guys are spending some time together.”

  Probably a lot more than you think Juliet thought but remained silent. She found herself with a sudden and overwhelming need to protect the privacy of the budding relationship. It was as though voicing it might tempt the fates.

  So, instead of answering, Juliet twirled the stem of her wine glass and shrugged non- committedly.

  “Things starting to heat up?” Layla leaned in.

  Juliet stopped twirling her glass and took a long, stalling sip. In an attempt to divert the subject, she said. “This is delicious wine, don’t you think?”

  But Layla would not be deterred.

  “Oh, come on. You’ve got to give me something. I’m an old married lady…let me live vicariously through you. It’s been a long time since I have felt the blush of new love…all that heat, all that passion...all that sex!!” Layla, always with a flair for the dramatic, raised her voice, and waved her hand in the air. She put loud and heavy emphasis on the word sex. The two high school girls in the next table giggled, while the man standing at the counter turned and winked.

  “Layla! People can hear you.”

  “Oh, so what.” Layla scoffed. She gave the high school girls a small wave and winked back at the guy at the counter. Then Layla turned her attention back to Juliet. “Spill.”

  “P.J. and I…we’re still getting to know each other.” Juliet offered with hesitation.

  “Well, that’s how every relationship starts.” Layla stated the obvious. Then because she knew she was making her friend uncomfortable, Layla forced herself to settle down, even though every fiber of her being was dying to know exactly what was going on with P.J. and Juliet. Last week, Reggie had gone up to P.J.’s early in the morning before work to return some tools. But P.J. hadn’t been there, and because Reggie had not wanted to leave the tools out in the weather, he returned the next morning. P.J. had been home, but he hadn’t invited Reggie in for coffee like he usually would. Through the open door, Reggie had seen Juliet’s boots on the floor and her jacket hanging on the back of a chair. The shower had been running.

  “So, is that why you invited me here for lunch, so you could hear all the details?” Juliet said in a tone that was slightly exasperated and only half teasing.

  “Not all of them. Only the juicy parts.” Layla admitted ruefully. Then she said gently, “Seriously, Juliet do you think that it’s… like… going anywhere…the two of you?”

  Juliet thought about the weeks since the storm and the way her relationship with P.J. had developed since then. Once P.J. had backed off the issue of Juliet’s past it had become easy and natural. Layla was right, they had been spending a whole lot of time together, but where this all was leading? Juliet had no idea.

  “I guess it depends on what you mean by going anywhere.”

  Layla raised an eyebrow. “Girl, you know exactly what I mean.”

  Juliet shook her head at Layla’s tenacity and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

  “Well then?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “Do you want it to go anywhere?”

  Juliet shrugged and repeated. “Don’t know.”

  “Does he?”

  “Jesus, Layla…” While Juliet frowned in protest at her friends resolve to ask the hard questions and totally butt into Juliet’s business, Layla called the waiter over and ordered two cappuccinos.

  “Well, if you’re not going to talk to me about it, then I hope you have back up somewhere?”

  “Back up?”

  “Yeah, you know you have to talk this through with somebody, Juliet. No woman can get through this stage without having her girl to back her up and to use as a sounding board. It’s all part of ….”

  “Girl code.” Juliet nodded her understanding. As Layla added a heaping teaspoon of sugar to her coffee, Juliet thought about what Layla had said. While Juliet stood steadfast about not revealing the juicy bits of her relationship, it would be nice to have someone to talk to about the confusion Juliet had felt about P.J.’s most recent request.

  “He’s going to go visit his family. I guess he has some business to do, and he wants to see them for the holidays.”

  “For Christmas?” Layla puzzled. “That’s new. I’ve never known him to go home for Christmas. Actually, he usually spends the dinner with us. He’s always said that the hype is too much for him. I guess he has a zillion cousins and they all have kids and Christmas morning is like...well, I think it would be a blast, but then again, I thrive on confusion!” Layla as usual jumped from one thing to another. “Now that I think of it though, he does always go there about this time every year.”

  “Yeah, P.J. said the same thing to me about the actual holiday, it drives him crazy and he claims that he never liked having a warm weather Christmas. But he sure isn’t skimping on gifts for everyone. He’s been having online deliveries every day for a couple of weeks now. He’s leaving Thursday. I guess he’s staying for a few days and he…” Juliet’s words fell away.

  “Oh. My. God. Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god!!!” Layla interrupted as she squealed out. “He’s asked you to go with him, hasn’t he? P.J. asked you to meet the fam? This is huge. Huge!”

  “Layla.” Juliet gave her friend a sobering look. “I don’t know if I’m going to go. And I don’t think it’s like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I want you to meet my mom and dad kind of thing. It was more like…I’m going to go; do you want to come?”

  “There is absolutely no difference.” Layla scoffed. “A guy like P.J. would not make it all flowery and romantic.”

  “So, it’s a step?” Juliet asked.

  “It’s definitely a step.” Layla confirmed.

  “Then I don’t know if I want to go. I don’t know if I’m ready for a next step. I told P.J. that I’d let him know today. I was thinking I might go. But now that you put it that way, I’m not so sure.”

  “I’m an idiot.” Layla smacked herself lightly on the forehead when she realized that pressing Juliet had been a big mistake.

  The two women both concentrated on their salads for a few moments, Layla contrite and Juliet thoughtful.

  “I think you could be right about this, but I think you could be wrong too. Not everything has a hidden meaning or agenda, Layla.” Juliet said with thought. “As the late Sigmund Freud once said, “Sometimes even a cigar is just a cigar.”

  “So, you think that I might be making too much of this?”

  “I think you could be, yes.” Juliet told her, partly because she believed it and partly because she realized suddenly that she really wanted to go. It would be fun to get away for a little while and she was curious about P.J.’s roots. “I think you just helped me decide though. I’m going to say yes. I’m going to go with P.J.”

  “He’s a good guy, Juliet.” Layla said sincerely.

  “I know, Layla. I know that.”

  “So, you’re going? You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m going and I’m sure.”

  “Okay. I guess there’s only one thing left to do then.”

  “And what’s that?” Juliet asked warily.

  “Shop!” Layla gave her a wide smile, and this time Juliet couldn’t help but smile back.<
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  Juliet felt the quick glances that P.J. threw at her as they made their way to the southeastern seaboard. It was as if he couldn’t believe she was there sitting next to him. Juliet knew how he felt because a big part of her couldn’t believe it either. But as the miles flew away, P.J. had proven himself to be a fun traveling companion. He entertained her with hilarious stories about his family and made the whole prospect of meeting them less intimidating.

  They had decided to take P.J.’s truck on the trip. It would be a safe ride as they drove through what could be some swiftly changing weather and it also had a large comfortable cab. When P.J. would not even discuss switching off driving responsibilities, Juliet had been secretly relieved. But for both of their sakes, she had put her foot down on the amount of road time they would cover each day. As a result, they came to an agreement on eight hours of driving per day with that time broken up with stops for meals, pee breaks and leg stretches. As Juliet watched the landscape change from glittering frost to luxurious green grass, she couldn’t help but think about the last time she had taken a road trip and how this was so much different. How she was so much different. Now, on the final night before they reached their destination, they decided on a motel just off the highway. And as luck would have it, there was a well-lit restaurant just across the street. Since it was convenient and they were both starving, P.J. and Juliet decided to have their dinner there. It was Sunday and the place was packed. Unless they wanted to wait an obscene amount of time for a table, P.J. and Juliet had been advised by the hostess to grab a seat at the bar. Juliet followed hesitantly as P.J. made his way through the crowd to the back of the room. After a long day of driving, Juliet did not relish having her dinner while eating on a stool. But to her pleasant surprise she found that the bar chairs were highbacked and cushioned. In Juliet’s opinion, that made all the difference in the world.