Chad’s laughter rang into the night as he clapped Bobby on the back. “There you go, we have a new technique.”
A shiver ran through Julia’s body and she was unsure if it was sparked by Chad’s laughter or the cool breeze on her damp skin, but it was enough to remind her that she couldn’t afford to get a chill. “I better get inside now. Thanks again guys,” she said, stepping onto the porch.
“I’ll come by tomorrow and get the rags and stain off your back step,” Chad said as Julia opened the screen door to usher the animals inside. She lifted a hand in farewell and the men waved, both looking as if they wished they could follow her.
* * *
Opening and closing drawers in her room, Julia collected clean clothes for after her bath. On the bottom step, she paused to glance up the stairway, taking a moment to gather strength for the climb. Surprisingly, however, she managed to climb three or four steps with little trouble, not feeling any extra effort until she was nearly halfway to the landing. She paused to consider her newfound strength and agility. Could working around the house and the yard really have made such a difference? She was eating healthy and drinking a lot of water. And she’d been sleeping much better.
Continuing up the steps, she thought about leaping onto Chad earlier. There had been nothing stilted about her scramble. Maybe effortless activity only worked when she wasn’t paying attention, because by the time she reached the top step, she was winded. As she trudged down the hall to the bathroom, she was just happy that Chad hadn’t commented on her sprint up his backside, or her awkward descent.
* * *
Julia finished watering the flowers and rubbed her lower back as she coiled the hose by the front porch. A car pulled slowly into her drive, the driver intently scrutinizing the yard.
Brushing her hands together, Julia drifted into the yard. “Good morning.” She greeted the visitor with a curious smile as the woman climbed from her car.
“Morning,” the lady replied. “I’m staying at the bed and breakfast up the road there, and I heard about your yard. I had to stop by for a peek.”
Surprised and pleased but a bit apprehensive, Julia extended her hand. “Welcome, I’m Julia.”
“Rachel,” the woman countered absently as the handshake faded, her attention drawn to the roses blooming riotously along the porch rail. Yellows and reds mingled with pink, all backed by the dark green of the leaves and the gray porch railing. “Oh my...” she gasped in admiration.
“Do you like them?” Julia asked.
“I’ve driven past this house several times in the past twenty years,” remarked the woman, “and never once have I given it a second glance. This is just amazing.”
Julia glowed shyly under the praise. “I’m not sure I can take the credit,” she shrugged. “I have a fabulous source for my plants.”
Rachel turned, meeting Julia’s eye. “Honey, I’ve seen flowers at greenhouses but to see them here, blooming and thriving around this old house, it’s a revelation, that’s what it is.”
“—Well, thank you,” Julia finally offered, believing for once that she had actually accomplished something worthwhile with her own hands.
“Do you sell cuts? Or offer gardening advice?”
Shocked, Julia inched to one side, as if to avoid the question and the surprise it contained. “Oh no, no, I really don’t know anything about gardening. I’ve just read some good books.”
“I’ve got a shelf full of books; I need flesh and blood to help me,” Rachel assured Julia. “I have no natural aptitude. You have a gift to accomplish this.” She spread her hands to indicate the yard full of color.
Blushing and tongue-tied, Julia could only nod and smile. She had not expected to be praised for being talented. She’d been sure those years were long past.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you,” Rachel continued. “I just had to stop and gawk.” The woman turned to return to her car, then stopped and waited for Julia to follow. “I’ll be staying at the inn for a few days. Do you mind if I stop by again when I have more time, and you can tell me more about how often you water and what type of mulch you use?”
Julia waited for the dread and fear of strangers to fill her heart, but none came. Finally, she stuttered, “That— that would be nice.” She even managed a smile. Evidently the flowers spoke for themselves, leaving her space and time to offer conversation as it came.
Rachel waved as she drove away, leaving Julia with a warm glow in her chest and gratitude in her heart.
* * *
At two p.m. Chad’s truck rolled to a stop in front of the house. Julia creaked open the screen door and lifted a hand in greeting. He waved as he rounded the back of the pickup and lowered the tailgate to pull out a dolly, which for some reason caused her heart to skip a beat, then race to catch up. As she watched from the doorway, Ringo and George at her feet, anticipation and excitement glowed in Julia’s dark eyes as Chad pushed her new old stove down the sidewalk toward the porch. It was wrapped in a quilted moving blanket and lay on one side, its long curvy steel legs protruding from the blanked but already she could tell that was perfect. Barely containing her excitement, Julia followed Chad to the kitchen, the animals trailing after them. He stopped in front of the gas outlet and wiggled the dolly from under the edge of the stove. Julia danced from one foot to the other, circling him, as he carefully tipped the old oven to stand on its shining white enamel legs.
Chad bent to unlatch the tie-down holding the moving blanket in place. The blanket fell into a puddle on the floor. A coo escaped Julia’s lips as Ringo bound back to avoid being covered by the blanket. Tenderly, she smoothed her hand along the tall end of the stove.
“What are all those doors for?” Chad asked, rubbing his fingers along his jaw.
“I’m not sure,” Julia murmured, caressing the high end of the appliance that stood as tall as she was. “I know it has two ovens and a warming oven. I’m not sure which is which. I’ll have to look it up online and learn more about how it works. Isn’t it just gorgeous?”
Tilting his head to one side to regard the antique oven, Chad remained silent.
The long pause in conversation finally snagged Julia’s attention, and she turned to give him a “really?” expression.
“It’s an old stove,” he shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not sure why you don’t want a nice new one.”
Julia circled the stove, her eyes dancing. “I’m not sure either, to be honest. I just know I want this house to be completely different from anything I’ve ever had before.”
Chad’s eyes narrowed at her confession. “Why is that, Julia?”
The tone of his voice caught her attention and she paused, her heart dropping to her feet as her hand froze on the shining black and silver oven handle. Her gaze slid across the floor and up his body to meet his eye, then quickly scurried back as she bent to peer into the open oven door.
“I’m asking you as a friend. What happened to you?”
She probably should be able to talk to Chad about what she’d been through, but for some reason, only panic came to mind. She stood, her back ramrod stiff, and the oven door slammed shut. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped, turning to leave the kitchen. Why was he asking her this? She couldn’t face the horrors of her past, let alone speak of it.
He grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him. “I mean it, what happened?”
Attempting to shrug off his hand, she tugged at her arm. He wasn’t gripping her tightly, just enough that she couldn’t get away. Finally, her belligerent eyes met his, frustrated sparks shooting between them.
“I—I got sick,” she said with her chin up in defiance, but with a wobble in her voice.
His grip loosened a notch and his eyes widened. He’d expected her to say something about a divorce or a cheating lover, and he wasn’t prepared for the tears glowing in her eyes. Leading her to the oven, he leaned her back against the heavy appliance and with one finger lifted her chin up so he could see her face. �
�What do you mean, ‘got sick’?”
She squirmed, attempting to bolt, but he held her arms in each hand. “Talk to me, Julia, please.”
Her tear-filled eyes darted around the room, like she was a desperate bird searching for a safe place to land, but safety was not a possibility as long as she was forced to face what had happened and how it had changed her.
The word, change, wasn’t even close to describe the pain that had stripped her of every essence of her person, taken everything but flesh and blood and left her to start completely over.
He waited. A tremble passed through her body, breaking loose a torrent of tears, and Chad collected her to his chest, rubbing her back gently as she sobbed.
“You let it all out, baby. It’s okay,” he assured her as she cried like only the heartbroken do.
Never had anyone held her so tenderly -- offering her reassurance and support. Her childhood had been cold and barren, but nothing could prepare a person for the disaster her existence had become. She’d lain in a cold bed for months longing to be held, comforted, loved, but no one had come. She had finally absorbed, on a bone-deep level, the fact that she was truly alone, and hope had faded and died.
Chad couldn’t possibly understand that she wasn’t the person he believed her to be. That she was different now. She didn’t know who she was, or even what exactly had happened.
Ultimately, her weeping mellowed into sniffles and she pulled away from his chest to stare at his boots. He stood silent and strong, waiting for her to speak, his hands warm and firm on her hips.
That fact alone -- his hands on her -- broke all the rules she’d come to live by. His comfort was like a drug, worming through her system, warming her ice-cold blood, surging through her veins.
“Start at the beginning,” he prompted. “Where were you when you got sick?”
Sniffling, her shoulders still wracked with hiccups, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I was in bed asleep. I woke up with a fever.”
He waited, his face a blank, as if he were expecting a more dramatic story. “And?”
She shrugged. “That’s all I remember.”
Shaking his head in confusion, Chad shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he regrouped. “Okay, so you had a fever…”
The warmth of Chad’s comfort turned into an ugly demand in Julia’s mind. Just like any addiction, be it the warmth of a human touch or the gratification of a substance, there was a flipside of demand that spoiled the high, and she knew the fine she’d pay to come off the drug.
Tiring of the confrontation, she wrenched away from him to wander to the sink where she stared out the window into the sun-dappled afternoon. “I had a very high fever. It took me months to recover. That’s it.”
Puzzled and sad, Chad moved to stand behind her. “What did the doctors do? What do you remember, Julia? Please, I want to understand.”
The hiccups were gone, and she took a deep breath before she turned back to him. A long sigh escaped her lips, but she straightened her shoulders and met his eye. All she had now was the emptiness of a story she’d heard others tell in hushed tones behind her back. “I remember bits of my husband telling me he was moving on. He said I wasn’t the woman he’d married anymore.” She shrugged. “The divorce was fair enough. He sold everything and deposited half in my bank account. I never saw him again.”
Shock and horror crashed through Chad’s mind, leaving him speechless.
“By the time I woke up enough to understand how much time had passed, I’d lost my job. It had been six months since I got sick. For a long time, I didn’t really understand what had happened. I’m still not sure, to be honest.” Her lip curled in a sneer, as if she were telling a story of someone she didn’t like. “Even my so-called friends gave up on me. I guess I wasn’t any fun.” The ugliness of the feelings that rose in her chest threatened to choke her.
Reaching for her hand, his heart in his throat, Chad struggled for something to say.
Julia avoided his grasp, moving toward the door to the hall. “I got better. That’s it,” she finished, resolute that she was not going to talk or think about the horrible fractured story for another moment. If she could slam the door now, she might escape the horror of reliving it all in broken pieces.
Chapter Eight
Once Chad recovered enough to move his feet, he lurched to follow Julia down the hall. “Julia, wait. What did your family do? What made you decide to come here?”
With her back still to him, she plodded ahead. “My dad died when I was in college, and my mom is in a nursing home in Jersey.” She waited for him at the door, ready to usher him out. Ringo and George stood in the hall watching the sad scene with large eyes.
Stopping in front of her as she held open the screen, Chad tenderly took her hand in his and searched her eyes. “I won’t ask you anything else. I’m sorry I pushed you, hell, I’m sorry you got sick.”
She gazed over his left shoulder, her chin a notch too high and her lips quivering.
“Julia,” he begged.
“Thanks for bringing my stove,” she said, her voice clipped. “I told you I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I told you—I’m not—” Her eyes filled with tears again, and she gave up trying to talk as she blinked them back, her throat clogged with emotion.
He waited a moment longer, hoping she’d respond to him in some way, but finally he dropped her hand and headed out to the porch. As she closed the screen he turned. “Steve will be by around five to connect the stove and get my dolly.”
She nodded once and then closed the front door with a forceful bang. The door slamming jarred Julia to the bone as she ran headlong to her bedroom. Desperation pounded through her system, and she threw herself onto her bed, tears flowing, and bottomless sadness choking the breath from her.
She’d been horrible to Chad, but how could she ever explain that her life had been torn to shreds, everything she’d worked to build— destroyed. Her entire self-concept obliterated.
Rolling onto her back, she gasped for a breath that didn’t burn, a thought that didn’t cause her chest to seize, but it was too late. The cavern had been opened and the familiar miasma of pain engulfed her. Her clenched fists came to her chest, and her knees came up to push her arms tighter to her core for protection. She would never recover. This torment would follow her and haunt her forever.
Desperation came next from the knowledge that even if she did build a new life, the same thing would happen. Her own body would turn on her, dragging her away from everyone she knew and loved, everything she cherished. How could a person live with a monster inside them? She didn’t know and couldn’t fathom ever feeling normal again.
How had she ever walked through life so blasé, believing that she was in control of her destiny? That cocksure notion that she could do anything she wanted, live how she wanted, be who she wanted, was gone – so far gone she didn’t even want to believe it again. She’d even come to scoff at others who lived under the delusion that they were in control of their lives.
She would be safer, realistic, if she believed that she could be destroyed at any moment – believed that with one blinding twist, her life would once again be thrust into darkness and loss.
Barely registering the touch, Julia felt George’s fur against her arm as the cat curled up against the top of her head. Her fists had moved to cover her eyes. George’s warm body only brought one more sensation in an existence where she wanted to feel nothing. She couldn’t move to push him away; she was curled tight in an effort to keep reality at bay, so George lay warm against her forehead. Gradually, Julia became aware that the rhythmic hum in her mind was the cat purring. The tumbling growl from the little animal wove into her thoughts, a calm and steady thrum.
A cool nose nudged at Julia’s arm, working its way for Ringo’s small head to intrude into her cocoon. The dog wiggled his way to her chest, and she allowed him to curl against her, his warmth bleeding into her heart. Gripping him in desperation, breathi
ng in the scent of his musty fur, Julia struggled to pull herself from the darkness and back to the daylight.
When she could breathe and the pain was just a horror, no longer a voracious beast, she slept.
* * *
The spreadsheet scrolled up and down, then up again as Chad stared blindly at the computer monitor. His finger on the mouse roller twitched with frustration as thoughts of Julia poured through his mind. What on earth had happened to her? A high fever? Had he ever heard of anyone waking up with a fever and losing consciousness for months?
Dropping his head to his hands, his elbows on the desk, fingers threaded through his hair, he moaned. Business planning was not going well today, he was too distracted.
He’d spent the morning looking for a way to expand his delivery service. Not a huge amount of work, just enough to add a boost and give Bobby a few more hours. Then maybe Chad would feel like he was stable enough to move out of the nasty upstairs apartment. He snorted at himself in disgust.
The business was doing well, and he’d already met his financial goals for a down payment on a house twice, but when it came to house hunting, he always backed out. He’d about decided he’d be fine living above the office forever.
In his defense, the business could always do better, and he’d opted out of buying a house or moving on with his life, in order to work longer hours and save even more money.
He already made a run to Pittsburgh once a week. If he could find one more customer to add to the trip, the entire addition would be clear profit. It would have to be a local shop or vendor though, so it didn’t take up too much time.
Dropping his hands and pushing the mouse away with a grunt of defeat, he flopped backward in his chair, causing it to roll back against the wall. Threading his fingers behind his head, his legs stretched out under the desk, one boot crossed over the other, his gaze traveled along the office ceiling, looking in vain for a way to understand what was happening to him. But no matter how he twisted the situation with Julia around in his mind, he could find no way to help her.
Hometown Series Box Set Page 38
