"What was that?" J.R. asked as Julianna chuckled.
"Nothing. I'll set the table."
Julianna smiled. She loved this woman.
Dinner conversation centered back on the house project, and Julianna and J.R. made plans for the upcoming week. Refinishing the floors would take renting a sander and picking up the supplies for the varnish. They figured it could be done in about three days, leaving a couple of days for drying and curing. They should be able to put the upstairs back together by the following weekend.
"You realize the hard part will be when the kitchen gets redone, right?" J.R. asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the kitchen will be out of commission for about a week. And that's if everything goes according to plan."
"It's okay," said Julianna. "We'll cook in the trailer. We can set up a table in the living room and eat in there. It won't be great, but it should work."
J.R. rubbed his hand across his jaw, and Julianna wanted to smack him for deliberately making it look like he had to think her idea over.
"Is that okay with you, Mama?"
"That's just fine with me. Jake said the new cabinets will be done in only a few days after I tell him the stain color. Once we demo the old ones, we'll have the new ones delivered."
"Did you pick out the carpet you want yet?" Julianna asked.
"Yes, it's even in stock, but the soonest anyone could install it is three weeks."
J.R. didn't look happy about that. "Maybe we could just refinish all the floors?" he asked.
"I guess so," Sharon reluctantly agreed.
"It'll go faster in the long run," he said. "Hardwood floors are very popular right now. People like the look of wood and it fits well with the style and age of the house."
Julianna wondered what he had going on in Portland that pulled him back there like a magnet. The thought that he had a girlfriend waiting for him there plunged her heart into an abyss. Was he just playing her because she was close by? Would he really tell Stacy to get lost? Not that it would do any good.
She recognized the jealousy she felt but told it to take a hike. There couldn't be anything lasting between them, not unless she told him everything. And that wasn't about to happen. No, that hurt cut too deep. The pain had been too intense for her to ever lose her heart again. She just got swept away by his kisses and that would stop now. With a silent prayer, she asked God for the strength to keep J.R. at a safe distance.
Standing up to get a bowl of pudding Mama had put together before church, Julianna grabbed the phone when it rang.
"Hello?"
"Julianna?"
"Hi, Mr. Taylor." Julianna wasn't surprised by the call. She was more surprised he hadn't called earlier.
"Hi...uh, how are you?"
"Fine." Julianna wondered how long it would take for him to ask her to forgo her vacation and come in to work.
"Um, our new assistant manager started working last week."
"That's nice." She bit her lip. She wouldn't ask. She wouldn't.
"Well, as you suggested, Lila and Bobby have been training him and it's going well, but we ran into a little problem."
That didn't take any time at all. "Oh?" she said, silently hoping he was giving up and the job was open again.
"Look, I know this is going to be hard for you, but we, I mean, I really need you to come back sooner."
There was something about his voice that caused Julianna to pause before she said no. "What happened?"
He hesitated, and Julianna started to worry. "My, uh, my mother passed away, and I need to go take care of arrangements."
"Oh, Mr. Taylor, I'm so sorry for your loss!" Julianna's heart went out to her boss, and she chastised herself for her unkind thoughts. "I guess I can come back," she said as she turned and looked at J.R. who was frowning. "When do I need to be there?"
"I'm leaving Tuesday. Could you come in then?"
"Of course. I'll be there Tuesday morning."
"Thanks, Julianna, you're a peach."
More like a pomegranate, she thought, not very sweet and cluttered inside. "No problem."
Hanging up the phone, she turned to J.R. and Mama. "His mother died. What was I supposed to do?"
J.R. shrugged his shoulders.
Mama face was thoughtful. But she didn't acknowledge Julianna's question as she stared at her lap.
Loading the floor sander into his truck, J.R. stopped to take a breath. Junior wouldn't go for a walk with him the night before. She claimed he had to settle things with Stacy first. At least he had one more full day with her. Well, actually, no. That wasn't true. He had that blasted date with Stacy at noon. Inwardly groaning for losing that time with Junior, he rehearsed what he would say to Stacy. And if she got mad and stomped off, he would just go home and get back to work.
Julianna hadn't said much this morning, and he was trying to figure out how he truly felt about her. He didn't deny kissing her was wonderful, but this wasn't high school. The only reason he could come up with for why she broke up with him all those years ago was that he hurt her somehow. Now, he cared more about making sure he didn't hurt her again.
Still, he really thought they were heading for a future back then and when she pushed him away so hard, he had to be honest, staying away had been partly about making her suffer. Pretty cocky of him to think she'd ask him to come back to her. When she didn't try to contact him that first summer, he started college, figuring that by Christmas, she would have been begging him to come home. But with no word from her and the offer of work over the holiday, he decided against returning to Cooper Springs. Mama encouraged him to pursue his dream and from that point on, he never looked back.
Until now. Now all the "what ifs" circled around his brain like a whirling stripped-out screw. His own wounds had scarred over pretty well, but he risked Junior slicing them open. He had to decide if she was worth the risk.
It took a lot longer than he counted on to pick up the sander from the rental yard and get it up the stairs, even with Junior's help. Before they had a chance to start the sanding process, it was time for him to get cleaned up for his lunch appointment. He refused to ever think of it as a date again. It was just an appointment to get rid of a pest.
Taking a quick shower, he forgot Junior was still working upstairs when he came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. The blush creeping up her neck matched the rush of redness he felt on his own as they stared at each other from the two doorways, steam billowing from behind him. If it hadn't been for the sparkle that grew in her wide eyes, he would have been too embarrassed to move. When she giggled—actually giggled—J.R. made a dash for the stairs and almost tripped in his hurry to get away. Several minutes later, feeling more in control in his jeans and t-shirt, Junior met him at the back door as he pulled on his jacket.
"You'll remember what I said, right?" she asked.
"You mean about the badger?"
"Yes. Don't let her get her claws into you." The way her eyes pleaded for understanding softened his heart, and he couldn't figure out why he hadn't fought for her all those years ago.
"Okay," he said as he reached for the doorknob.
"One more thing," she said.
When he turned back toward her, she moved in close and placed her lips on his in a quick, hard kiss. "If there's any chance for us, you need to get rid of Stacy." She laughed at herself. "I don't mean permanently...I mean she just can't even be your friend. She doesn't do 'friends.'"
"Got it," he said, softer and slower than before, running his hand along her cheek and curling his finger around a stray wisp of hair. "We really need to talk, Junior." She was definitely worth the risk.
"Get rid of Stacy."
An hour later, J.R. wished he had taken Junior's advice even more to heart. He thought he understood, but he wasn't sure anyone could have prepared him for the vixen sitting across from him in the diner. Well, maybe her three ex-husbands?
"Can you imagine?" Stacy hammered on, "there I was, tryi
ng to act all natural and the towel just fell to the ground!" Her sultry laugh grated on J.R.'s nerves.
Stacy's long-winded and unguarded story about losing her towel outside the hotel room when she was on her second honeymoon gave J.R. the willies. Trying his best not to imagine what that would look like, he took another drink of water. Why in the world would she think he'd be impressed with tales of her escapades with her ex-husbands? It had been one story after another, all with blatant sexual undertones and all in bad taste.
"When I knocked on the door, there was Devon, laughing so hard I had to punch him. But then, oh my goodness," she lowered her voice, "the way we carried on that afternoon—"
"You know, Stacy," J.R. straightened in his seat, done with this conversation, this lunch, and especially, this woman, "listening to your sex-capades on your honeymoon is a real turn off."
Stacy swallowed her next words and looked at J.R. She regrouped fast. "Oh, sorry, honey. I guess that was a little bad of me." She landed her perfectly manicured red nails across his hand. "I just want you to know I know how to have fun." The wink from her over-painted eyes turned J.R.'s stomach.
Pulling his hand into his lap, J.R. made a note to stop at the florist and get flowers for Junior. Never had he been so grateful for a heads-up warning about someone. "I know how to have fun, too, Stacy. But it doesn't involve losing my clothes and if it did, I certainly wouldn't share that with anyone."
"Well, aren't you the good little choir boy now? You weren't that way in high school." Her challenge was deliberate.
"I made a lot of mistakes in high school. But I knew better then, and I especially know better now. I suggest you pick on someone more suited to your...life-style." J.R. stood up. "I won't be calling you, Stacy, and I don't want you to call me. Can I be any clearer?"
Stacy sat up straighter in her chair, pushing her fake bosom tight against her tight-fitting tank top. J.R. was afraid she'd pop out of the top, someone would take a picture, and he would have another reason for Junior to hate him. "Well, J.R. honey, if it's Julianna Brown who lights your fire, be careful. She's as cold as a frozen fish, and she's got more skeletons in her closet than a serial murderer." The sweet, syrupy voice she'd used all through lunch disappeared and what J.R. figured was her real voice emerged, calculated and vengeful.
"I'm sure you're just saying that because you're unhappy Stacy. Why don't you try being yourself and find someone to actually love?"
"A fine thing for you to say. You were my first love, you know. I'm not sure I'll ever get over you." The coy, innocent look turned her words to lies, and J.R. felt sorry for her.
"You'll have to. See ya," he said as he picked up the check and headed for the cashier at the end of the lunch counter. He never looked back.
CHAPTER TEN
W hen J.R. walked in the door with two bouquets of flowers, Julianna instantly went on alert. In her world, flowers only meant someone died. He marched up to her, leaned in and kissed her, right in front of Mama, smiling at her obvious discomfort. Mama laughed as Julianna turned a deep red.
"Getting along better and better, I see," Sharon said.
J.R. joined in the laughter and presented each woman with a bouquet. "These are to say thank you."
Julianna fingered the blooms in her hand. "For what?"
Mama snickered.
J.R. plopped down in a kitchen chair and said, "For letting me know about Stacy. Except I think you were a little easy on her. That woman is just plain scary."
Both women were laughing then, and a peacefulness settled over the trio.
"J.R.," Mama said, "I'd like you to take me out to the cemetery this afternoon."
J.R. sat up in his chair, and Julianna sat down beside him. In all the time she'd been living close to Mama, she had never gone to the cemetery. At least, not as far as she knew.
"Really, Mama?" J.R. seemed just as surprised as Julianna.
"Yes. I have a few things to get off my chest, and I need to do it at the cemetery."
Mama's cryptic comments sounded ominous, but Julianna figured, with all the changes happening in her life and with J.R. home now, maybe she was needing whatever solace she could find from her deceased husband.
"When do you want to leave?"
"Now. I'll go get my heavier coat. It's pretty cold out today." Mama retreated into the front of the house.
"Well, what do you supposed is up with that?" J.R. asked Julianna.
"I have no idea."
"Have you ever taken her to the cemetery?"
"Never. If she's been before, I didn't know about it."
J.R. got up and reached for his coat. "When we buried my Dad, she said she never wanted to go back. She didn't want to think of him decaying in a hole in the ground."
Julianna thought of the funeral senior year. It had been a rough time for everyone, especially J.R. She didn't really know Mama then as well as she did now, and later, when Julianna was dealing with her own demons, the cemetery held a different meaning. Pulling herself from her thoughts, Julianna started putting on her own coat. "I'll come with you, if that's okay." She wasn't sure what she was thinking, but it felt right to go along.
Mama came back through the kitchen. "Oh, good, Julianna, I was hoping you would come, too."
J.R. raised his eyebrows to question her decision, but Julianna had no idea and simply shrugged her shoulders.
The ride to the cemetery was somber. After J.R. parked the truck, Mama pulled out a folded piece of paper from her wallet. "I don't remember exactly where the grave is. I have a map," she said.
The scowl on J.R.'s face made Julianna wonder if he was as ignorant as she that his mother carried a map to her husband's grave site in her wallet.
The lush green grass of the cemetery somewhat eased the sadness that pervaded the grounds. Flowers, plastic and real, adorned several tombstones as they worked their way through the cemetery, respectfully walking along the bottom edge of the grave sites. Down one aisle and up another, Mama looked carefully for the stone that marked her destination. Stopping at one, J.R. reached for her arm to keep her going, "This is someone else, Mama, not Dad."
"It's MaryLou Taylor's."
"Who's that?" Julianna asked.
"MaryLou was a sweet, deeply religious lady in our community who died far too young."
"Like Dad," J.R. added, still giving Mama a little tug to get her moving again.
"Look at the dates, Julianna," Mama suggested.
Julianna moved up closer to the stone and recited aloud, "MaryLou Taylor, born June 3, 1941, died April 6, 1986. Beloved wife and mother." Julianna turned to Mama. "I don't get it. Is this a relative of Brad Taylor's?"
"MaryLou married Charles Taylor in 1961. It was an elaborate wedding. The whole town pulled out all the stops. They were married in the Catholic church on First Avenue with over 200 guests. Charles was an up and coming businessman in town and paraded his new bride all the way from the church to his new store." Mama sighed. "We were all very happy for them. The only thing that saddened their union was that they had only one child, and I knew MaryLou wanted more."
Julianna's brain clicked through the information Mama was sharing, waiting for it all to make sense.
"Oh," said J.R.
"What?" Julianna stopped thinking for a moment. "Did you figure it out?"
"I think so."
"Do you want to tell me or wait for me?"
"I'll wait for you."
Julianna's blood roared to life with the double meaning of his comment, but she couldn't dwell on that now. Turning back to her calculations, the light finally went off in her head. "MaryLou was Brad Taylor's mother? I knew his dad owned the store a long time ago. I thought his parents moved away. Was it only his dad that moved?"
Mama nodded. "After MaryLou died, Charles never recovered. The store squeaked along for years because it didn't have any competition. Eventually Charles turned over operations to his son. Brad ran it into the ground. He finally had to sell this past year, but the new owne
rs kept him as manager and the store name of 'Charlie's.'"
"I never knew." Julianna stared at the ground. "About his parents. No one ever talks about them."
"There was no reason you should know, until this week." Mama reached her arm around Julianna's shoulders.
"This week," Julianna repeated. Her head popped up with understanding. "He said he called me back into work because he had to make arrangements for his mother's funeral!"
"A funeral that took place thirty years ago," J.R. said tersely.
"What in the he—"
"Julianna!"
"—heck is going on?" Julianna wanted to pace but that wasn't appropriate here. Her face flushed, and she squeezed her eyes shut so tight, she saw stars. Glancing at Mama and J.R. who looked poised to catch her from falling, she backed up several feet. "I need to think. I'll wait in the truck."
"No need," Mama said, putting her folded piece of paper back into her wallet. "We're done here, anyway."
J.R. eyed his mother questioningly. "We are? What about Dad's grave?"
"I don't need to come here to talk to your father. I talk to him every night before I go to bed."
Mama brought her out here to show her Brad Taylor's lies. Julianna's brain felt like it would explode trying to figure out why he would call her back to work from her vacation. He knew she was helping Mama with her renovation. Did he have something against Mama? Did he have something against J.R.? Or was it just her?"
Losing Junior to her job slowed the progress on the house project substantially. The upstairs floors weren't too bad, but J.R. wasn't too sure how he was going to install new windows by himself, especially those on the second floor. He would just have to wait until Junior got off work. It really messed up his schedule. He checked his email every morning. Staying on top of his business in Portland from Cooper Springs wasn't as difficult as he originally thought it would be, and the extra time here allowed him to keep on seeing Junior. Latching onto that silver lining, he finished varnishing the hardwood floors upstairs, leaving the hall for later so he still had access to the bathroom.
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