by Chase, Diane
“Now, there’s a thought. I completely forgot to suggest a Bible for your vows. Or did you guys finish those?”
“It’s a work in progress. Anyway, what’s up? Did I forget something?”
Holly giggled. “You’re right on schedule. It’s me. I’ve got a conflict and wondered if we could change the Galvez walkthrough to the sixteenth. Do want to look at your calendar and call me back?”
“It’ll be fine as long as it’s not a weekend.”
“Ah, reserving those for Harry?” she asked, chuckling again.
“Of course.” The disappointment he decided to work the weekend in Houston bugged her all over again.
“Well, it’s a Tuesday. Thanks a million. I want to accommodate these folks with a reunion, a long weekend at the Tremont House. Anyway, I’ll email the new date to your mom. By the way, I happened across some cool wine-glass jewelry, these little pearl drops, and some faux mother-of-pearl vases. They’re perfect for your white rose theme. I’ll email pictures of those, too.”
They hung up, and Juliette waited at the traffic light. Everything was happening at the Hotel Galvez—the wedding rehearsal and dinner, the ceremony and reception. She and Harry already met with the officiate, someone Holly used all the time.
White rose theme? Officiate? One by one, the flaws in her well-laid plans came to light like she made them blindfolded.
She wanted to race home and pour over the new spiritual books. Maybe one of them could explain how to tilt her life right-side-up.
Chapter Five
In the months Juliette planned the summer, she imagined productive days at the computer and weekends with Harry and their friends, in all a lazy, happy, pre-wedding and pre-dissertation celebration and blossoming of seeds planted so many years ago.
She’d never have imagined a handful of unknown authors feeding her soul during this time. “Isn’t that what marriage is all about,” a chapter ending inquired?
Still in a light robe at noon, Juliette closed the book on Christian marriage. The fidelity lesson went down easy enough. Even before believing, she agreed with faithfulness to a spouse. The book delivered a harder message: reserve sex for marriage.
She scratched her scalp and headed to the kitchen for a coffee refill. She and Harry were already in the last quarter of the dating game, together four years and about to wed in a few months. The book didn’t account for special circumstances like theirs.
In the last several days, she digested every word of four Walmart books and hungered for more until coming across the bit about chastity. Back on the sofa, she scoured another book to confirm the last one got it right.
Outside, Skipper began barking nonstop. Juliette took the book out to the front porch with her coffee. The dog pattered up the steps with her tongue and tail wagging.
“Come here.” Juliette patted the loveseat, and Skipper jumped up long enough for a head scratch then bolted to the sidewalk, yapping at a couple parking their car across the street.
“Sshh! No!,” she said in a hushed tone.
Forget the dog’s mischief. The way her old life clashed with the new, could she count herself as a Christian? Connie’s car pulled through the gate. She strolled to the porch carrying two shopping bags while Lexi and Skipper ran off to the backyard.
“Lexi’s grown out of her shorts just since April,” Connie said, looking pale and tired. “I used to pick up things for her, and she loved it. Now, we’re hours in every store.” She moaned and short of the front door collapsed into a chair. “Today was swimsuit day.”
“Aahh.” Juliette laughed. “Hard for all us girls, isn’t it?”
“Oh, right. Guess you’re still wearing one.” Apparently, Connie missed the humor she intended.
“Not well. And not in a long time.” She thought about offering to get Connie a cup of coffee, but the self-sufficiency they agreed on seemed to be working out.
Lexi darted to the front yard and up the steps. “Skipper got out though the back fence. There’s a cat back there. Want me get her?” The girl pushed up her glasses. “Are you still in your pajamas?” she asked, leaving her mouth wide open.
Juliette flushed and nodded her head.
“Weird.” The girl shook her head and raced down the sidewalk and rounded the Postoffice corner.
“Guess I really should be dressed by now,” Juliette said. She settled back on the loveseat and held up the book. “I got engrossed in this.”
Connie sighed. “Ah, marital wisdom. Good luck. Eric and I made it fourteen years, most of them happily.”
“Oh.” Juliette bit her thumbnail. “I hate to pry, but when were you divorced?”
The corners of Connie’s mouth dipped with exaggerated displeasure. “December. I’ll be upstairs if Lexi gets in your hair. She’s always been respectful, but like they say, we’re still adjusting to the ‘new normal.’” She got up and gathered the shopping bags. “By the way, don’t forget about Lauren, her friend. She’s coming in tomorrow for the weekend. The minute the two get out of hand, it’s back to her aunt.” Connie’s voice retained its bitter edge from the marriage discussion.
“They’ll be fine.”
Too bad Connie wasn’t the kind of friend to discuss the wisdom in the books.
But Juliette got it. Hadn’t she half thought about shifting gears with Harry physically. Talking came easy with them. Only, this time she really needed the right words. She sighed and found the page she was reading. Maybe the how-to was in here, too.
****
After a long nap, Juliette worked at the computer into the evening, ate a ham sandwich at nine o’clock, and resumed her research, stopping for snacks now and then, until two a.m. The library took on an eerie ambiance.
Night bugs chirped loud enough to be in the house, and moonlight streamed through the open plantation shutters on the tall windows. A tall, privacy fence surrounded the backyard, but what if someone lurked? Snuggled in a throw on the leather chair, Skipper hadn’t stirred, which hopefully meant no one did.
More scary were the piles of paper which in no way resembled a Summary of the Problem, much less a dissertation proposal. All along, she thought confidently of the stored materials, knew it’d fall together the day she unpacked it all. What a disappointment, like opening a boxed puzzle and discovering half the pieces missing.
Certainly, Dr. Cabot recognized the gaps in her research, even spelled out her concern a couple of weeks ago.
“You’re not quite there. Why does originality always baffle students? And your topic, well, er…never mind. You came this far. I wouldn’t turn back. Just press for some undiscovered nuance, and email me if I can help,” her advisor said in her office the afternoon Juliette left Houston.
Tapped into the university’s database, she stared bleary eyed at a journal article on silks from the Italian Renaissance. Most of what she read, including her own material, made that exciting time bland as white bread. She slid in a CD, clicked through dozens of slides, and slowed through pictures of the Sistine Chapel.
Slide after colorful slide of Michelangelo’s masterpiece illustrated the wonder and majesty of stories and people portrayed in the Bible, hereto folklore for her. The lost years made her shiver. In the next frame, God was reaching out to Adam, and she sat back in amazement.
Two weeks ago, he touched her, too.
If only she knew all along these pieces commemorated a real God, but it was too late to undo that life. Too late to undo a lot of things, like backpedaling with Harry and negotiating where he slept this weekend. He never pulled such a dirty trick on her.
She noticed an email arrived from her friend Dr. Neil in Florence, Italy. Her fingers trembled in excitement as she opened it. It read:
Juliette,
Shae and her family visited us last weekend. She asked me to send pictures of the boys to you. Being the proud grandfather, I didn’t delay. Best of luck with your summer study. Contact me if I can assist.
A
A stood for Aaron, but Juliet
te never called him that, always Dr. Neil. Shocked at how time changed their lives, she flipped through the photos of his daughter Shae with two toddler boys. The shots clearly showed Dr. Neil’s backyard in Lastra a Signa, a town just west of Florence with a view of the Tuscan farmlands and villas.
She’d first visited there at fourteen when she stayed with the Neils while on a summer study and returned many times over the years for more visits and research projects. It’d always been her hope to go back on an extended post-doctoral study or as a visiting professor or museum consultant.
An uneasy feeling crossed Juliette’s thoughts and she hit reply.
Dr. Neil,
The boys have grown so much. Your note reminded me I need to contact Shae. Thanks for your offer to help with the dissertation. I’ll be in touch as it progresses. Meanwhile, I’d like to share something with you. A couple of weeks ago there was an accident…
Limp and tired, she detailed the events at Christmas Bay and hoped it all made sense. Before she closed the computer, an email arrived, and her heart leapt.
Juliette!
I rejoice with you in the miracle power of the Lord Jesus Christ. See Matthew 7:8.
A
She found the passage in the purple Bible and read it aloud. “For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.”
Tears burned her tired eyes. Dr. Neil believed her.
****
Close to noon, she woke to rustling in the hallway. Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Juliette pulled the covers over herself and Skipper.
Lexi stood at the door and another girl peered over her shoulder. “Do you want us to take Skipper out?”
“Yeah, sure.” Without any coaxing, the dog wriggled from the cocoon and danced around the girls. After some commotion on the stairs, the house fell quiet again. Juliette forced herself out of bed, slipped on shorts and a t-shirt and clipped downstairs.
While the coffee brewed, she hung out in the library and sifted through Dr. Neil’s pictures in the printer tray. Seeing them reminded her of his support. She slipped them into a drawer and tidied up the desk.
The rest of the house needed cleaning, too, since Evan and Amanda were due in. Among the tasks, she needed to dig up queen sheets for the sleeper sofa in the library. It’d been years since she slept on it. Isn’t that what she decided? Sort of?
The last four years with Harry warred with the Christian books on everything from prayer and finances to marriage.
She plopped in one of the leather chairs and stared at the sofa that might change their lives. Harry always supported her dreams, always showed love and appreciation for their relationship, but tell him it was hands-off until the wedding? In her former life, she’d have laughed him out of town if he suggested such a thing.
She held out her left hand—no scar or pain. Unfortunately, no proof. If only, he saw the truth, knew this wonderful love, and joined the same conclusion about their future. That was the real solution.
Out of the blue, she wondered. Who did she love more, God or Harry?
Before her mood sank deeper, giggling and pattering on the hardwoods began in the foyer and continued to the dining room. Juliette swiped her eyes and cut through the kitchen.
In a seating nook near the front window, the dog wiggled between Lexi and her friend on the loveseat. Juliette leaned against the back of a dining chair.
Lexi’s friend looked up and waved. “Hi, I’m Lauren.”
“Glad to meet you, Lauren. What are you guys doing today?”
“Going down to the Strand. And then this girl and her mother are taking us to eat and see a movie.” Lauren squealed when the dog jumped on her lap.
“When’s Harry coming in?” Lexi asked. Both girls snickered.
“Around six or seven.” Juliette smiled at their silliness and obvious interest in the relationship. They’d spy around every corner all weekend, no doubt.
And know where they slept.
She stiffened in alarm. It never mattered what Lexi, or Connie for that matter, thought about Harry’s weekend visits. How blind she was.
“Listen, we’ll need the dining room table later,” she said of the computer gear and books strewn end-to-end.
“We’ll clean it off,” Lauren said. She hopped up and started gathering books. “I have a school project this summer, too.”
“Do you? On what?” Juliette asked.
“Angels in the Bible. Me and Lexi go to the same private school.” She twisted her lips. “Lexi’s mom isn’t making her finish her project early.”
Lexi brushed her hair back revealing the scowl on her face. “My mom cares what I do.”
Eyes wide, Lauren shook her head. “I didn’t say she didn’t.”
“Well, it sounded like it.” The dog licked Lexi’s face, and she smiled again.
“Come on,” Lauren said. “We need to move the computer to your room.”
“It’s not my room,” the kid quipped in sour notes.
Juliette turned back to the kitchen. Their squabbles aside, the girls had an advantage attending a religious-based school. Maybe Connie overlooked the dogma in favor of an elite education.
She stowed a few plates in the dishwasher, thinking how each day offered such fresh perspectives, such newness, even from all things, a little girl. God, make my life significant. Make every day count from now on.
Until then, she had the more mundane task of readying the house for the guests. She put a load of towels in the dryer, stripped her bed, and cleaned the bathroom, all the while thinking ahead to the sleeping arrangements for the weekend.
Early evening, she showered and put on a cotton sundress—a 30s design in soft yellow with wispy ferns, another of the creations she sewed after the spring semester ended. She was dabbing on a little mascara when Skipper came in whimpering.
“Need to go out, girl?”
The little dog danced in place and darted out of the bathroom. Juliette doused herself with mosquito spray, headed downstairs, and to the front yard. None of the neighbors were out, except Mrs. Golightly next door who was watering her garden.
Peggy and Asher Golightly lived in that house a good thirty years, and she’d seen them her entire life. Watching Mrs. Golightly wrestle with the hose, she wondered why in all that time the couple never visited the Prescotts. The other neighbors did, though many of them had died or moved. Perhaps, deep down, she knew why.
The couple attended church on Sundays with their three children, put out a lighted manger scene for Christmas, and a big cross on Easter. No one said so, but her parents must consider them too different, although they smiled and waved. Already a few times this summer, Juliette waved, too.
She strolled down the steps and held the gate open. “Come on, Skipper.”
The dog cocked her head and stared past Juliette, dumbstruck at the invitation to freedom. Finally, she tore down the sidewalk and straight to the Golightly’s unfenced yard.
Peggy bent to the dog who smelled her garden clogs. “Well, hello, you sweet thing.” She looked up at Juliette. “We’ve been visiting through the fence.”
Juliette smiled, glad Mrs. Golightly didn’t mind the invasion. “Yes, she loves people. How have you been?”
“Well, good.” Her face briefly registered surprise while she absently overfilled a concrete birdbath and saturated the white lantana clustered at its base. “And you?”
“I went to church last Sunday. Lighthouse Community on Ferry Road.” Juliette broke out in a sweat, mostly from the humidity, but also from the awkward, misplaced words. Catching up on twenty-eight years seemed silly.
The woman’s face brightened into a serene smile. “You don’t say. Asher and I have been going there about ten years.” She looked like she wanted to add something but stroked Skipper behind the ears again. “We love it.”
“That’s nice.” Where should they go from here? Maybe back home, back to waving.
“Perhaps w
e’ll see you there on Sunday. Or..” She hesitated. “Well, if you like, you could come with us. Asher likes to leave about seven-thirty.”
“Oh?” Water streamed from the garden to the lawn. Juliette slipped out of her sandals and held them as they dripped.
“I’m sorry. Let me turn this off.” Mrs. Golightly headed to the faucet on the side of the house. “If that’s too early, maybe another time.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll meet you out here.” Juliette walked beside her.
“We’d love that. Okay, we’ll see you then.”
Juliette corralled the dog in their backyard and scooped her up. She strolled up the driveway just as Evan’s car pulled in front of the house. Harry sat in the backseat.
On the way to meet them, she sent up a prayer. Please, God, help me talk to Harry about going to church. And, you know, who sleeps where.
Chapter Six
Harry and Evan took off in search of shrimp and steaks. Juliette had already made twice-baked potatoes and a salad, so she and Amanda visited on the back patio sipping lemonade.
Amanda had been her closest friend since high school, and her husband and Harry hit it off right away. Even before she met Harry, Juliette had her pegged as her maid of honor.
So far, Amanda hadn’t mentioned the accident which meant she didn’t know. But her friend seemed preoccupied. “What’s new at the job?” Juliette asked, wondering if perhaps there was a problem with Evan.
“We’ve been crazy busy,” Amanda said of her computer programming position. “I’m sorry.” She gathered her long hair into a ponytail and held it off her neck. “We had a weird conversation on the way into town.”
Juliette’s heart quickened at the sudden change in topic. “With Harry?”
“Did you hear Harry’s news about his job?” Amanda’s face flushed.
Juliette realized how little she talked to Harry the last couple of weeks. He worked long hours and their conversations were short. She eyed Amanda.
