The door opened and Spencer entered. His eyes lit up. “How long have you been waiting for me?”
Julia looked away, not entirely trusting her composure at the moment. “Actually, I came to take a break from the fray.”
“I don’t blame you. Your little cubicle isn’t terribly private. Feel free to hide out here anytime.”
“Thank you. And, um, I also have some preliminary observation information for you.”
Spencer took his seat behind the desk while Julia opened her briefcase.
Work didn’t stop for heartbreak.
***
Marc closed his eyes and pushed his hair back. His classroom was empty, the school day over. It was a good thing, too. After coming face to face with Julia, he didn’t know if he'd be able to get through another class.
Moving slowly, he gathered his things together, absently piling them into his briefcase. When he left the classroom, the halls were nearly deserted. That was fine with him. He had no desire to be corralled into chatting with any fellow instructors. Rounding a corner on his way past the administration offices, a door suddenly opened in front of him. Julia and her partner walked out into the hall. They had eyes only for each other and were laughing at some private joke. Or so it seemed.
Marc stopped to let them pass, choking on his misery. Julia saw him then and her smile evaporated.
“Excuse me,” she murmured.
She and the man walked around him, resuming their conversation in low tones. Marc stood like a statue, staring hard after them, all the angst within him boiling to the fore.
Suddenly, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He whirled around. To his consternation, he found Belinda Carruthers regarding him with smug amusement. Her keen interest flicked to Julia’s retreating figure and then back to him. She arched a brow in comprehension. Marc turned back to the direction Julia had taken, his eyes hungrily following her until she disappeared around the corner.
“So that’s how it is,” Belinda said. “Very interesting.”
He swung back to her, surprised to find her still there. Then he remembered their past encounter and felt himself blush. Why had he ever given a second look at the female population? They were trouble. Every last one of them. Julia was a heart-breaker and Belinda was...her evil twin. “Did you want something?” he snapped.
Belinda linked her arm with his and took a step forward. “A word of romantic advice, Mr. Dorin.”
Before she got any farther, Marc peeled her hand from his arm, not bothering to hide the distaste in his eyes.
She shrugged. “That’s the problem with you. You’re a stuffed shirt. Everything is about rules and control. I remember your class. Boring.”
Marc ignored her and resumed walking toward the exit. Belinda hurried to keep up with his long strides, speaking in a rush.
“If you want any success with a woman, you’ll have to do more than wander around the halls mooning over her. I’ll be glad to help you out. I’ve got my boyfriend wrapped around my little finger, but it took effort. And you helped with that, remember? So I owe you one. I know you’ll probably pooh-pooh the idea, but I’ve helped lots of my friends—”
Marc came to a halt and faced her. “Leave me alone!”
Belinda’s mouth opened in surprise before changing into a mischievous smile. She gave him a once-over glance. “Do I sense some Italian hot-headedness here? Perhaps there’s hope for you after all.”
Marc wondered if he was going mad. Mumbling an apology, he strode toward the doors as Belinda’s mocking laughter echoed down the hall after him.
Once in his truck, he rested his head on the steering wheel, struggling to rein in his emotions. Julia is obviously getting along fine without me. I was arrogant to assume she’s suffered as I have.
Marc started the engine and rebuked himself for his foolish thoughts. He’d brought this wretchedness down on his own head. He was the one who sent her away, apparently into the arms of a willing suitor. Maybe in a twisted way Belinda was right about him. Regardless of his lily-white motives, he was the one who’d rejected Julia.
Suddenly, he knew without a doubt, he’d live to regret it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julia looked at the calendar in her cubicle and panicked. The holidays were bearing down upon her. Along with the press of her job, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s loomed ahead, ready to put a spoke in her wheel and rob precious time away from work.
She dealt with this feeling of dread every season. It seemed inevitable when she was in the thick of an important project, she had to endure the shorter attention spans and schedules of those around her. When she did try to muster some enthusiasm for the perfunctory celebrations, she was always left with a hollow feeling of disappointment, keenly aware she’d wasted a colossal amount of time.
In the past, emerging on the other side of the holiday frenzy the first week of January left her face aching from a zillion courtesy smiles. This year was shaping up to be no different. And this year she could throw the remains of a tattered personal life onto the heap of disillusionment.
My problems were no one’s fault but my own. It was my choice to follow my heart with Marc. Being ruled by her head for so long made living by her heart a disastrous experience. She’d been like a teetotaler binging on too much wine and waking up with a hangover of a lifetime.
If it wasn’t for the steady support of Spencer, I know I’d be feeling a lot worse. He made her feel valued, he praised her work, he appreciated her. Things would’ve been much simpler if she could’ve fallen in love with him.
Maybe Spencer doesn’t open my eyes to a world of beauty I’ve been too busy to notice before. So what if he doesn’t ease the lonely ache in my heart and make me feel complete when we’re together. Spencer is kind, decent, and stable.
He wouldn’t lead a girl to the heights only to let her fall when things became a little difficult. Julia suspected that if she gave him any encouragement at all, he would like to explore the personal side of their relationship.
She glanced down and saw she was doodling again. I really need to get a grip on my wandering thoughts. She straightened up, focusing on her computer screen. After typing some numbers which began to look like meaningless squiggles, Julia put her chin in her hand and looked off into space.
What made everything worse was her growing qualms of discontent with her job. Not this assignment specifically, but the busyness she thought she craved, satisfied less and less these days. Julia had blamed the accident for losing her stride, but she began recalling that she’d toyed with similar thoughts before then. She usually shooed such notions away, denouncing them as ludicrous. Work was her lifeline. In a world of uncertainty, it was always there waiting to be done. Besides, who wasn’t discontent with their career at one time or another?
The upsets in her life in the last year made it difficult to discern what the most compelling issue was. Could this inner turmoil be a physical byproduct of the car accident? The fact that she was in an unfamiliar setting? Or recovering from a failed romance? Maybe it was everything combined, but she sensed an undercurrent of angst detached from the circumstances swirling about her.
Julia opened the drawer of her desk to retrieve a pen. She came across the framed waterfall photograph Marc had given her. Earlier, she’d crammed it into the drawer in a fit of anger. Seeing it now mocked her attempt to rid her mind of her distress. She fought the heat behind her lids. If Marc was in her line of vision at this moment, she’d hurl the thing at his head. Shutting the drawer with more force than necessary brought a few curious looks from faculty nearby. Ignoring them, Julia commenced banging away at the computer keyboard.
***
Disgusted with his inability to concentrate, Marc shut down his computer and stared into the dark, blank screen. He scooted back his chair and got up, wandering restlessly to the living room. At the big picture window which looked out over the city streets, he twisted the rod of the mini-blinds, bringing the blinds into a half
-open position.
Slats of light fell upon an abandoned project on his art table. His eyes were drawn to a sepia-toned photograph next to several crinkled tubes of tinting paint. He went over to the table and pressing his finger on a corner of the print, slowly spun it around to face him. It was a photograph of Julia at the park. The contrast and composition were perfect and he’d achieved the desired softness by using infrared film. The willow tree made dappled lights and shadows on the subject, giving the image a sense of languorous, ethereal movement.
Marc focused on the subject herself. Julia’s beauty didn’t eclipse or detract from the surroundings. Instead she seemed like an extension of them. The love shining from her eyes was impossible to miss, along with the freshly-kissed expression on her delicate features. What kind of a fool would walk away from a woman who looked at him like that?
He’d intended to add tint to the print, but had been unable to do so. Somehow it seemed inappropriate to add color—to bring to life an image which looked as if it were from an old scrapbook—an image from the past.
Marc tried to remember how everything had become so messed up in the first place. He always assumed that one day he’d meet a nice girl, fall reasonably in love, get married and live contentedly thereafter. Now he could see the superciliousness of his assumption. He’d neglected to factor in the feelings of the female somewhere along the line. I do love Julia, I do want to marry her. But our priorities are so different.
Aren’t they?
He sighed, wondering why he bothered to fixate on a dilemma undoubtedly beyond repair anyway. Marc slid the print, untinted, into a folder, and filed it away with the rest of his prints.
***
Julia hovered near the oven as Sara pulled out the roasted turkey, basking in the heat in an effort to get warm. Lately she'd been so cold—even to the point of chills. The cooler, dank weather forced her to buy more sweaters, but they only held in heat. Julia felt cold from the inside out.
Reluctantly, she left the warmth of the stove to help Sara bring bowls of food to the dining room table. Brian sat at the table, holding his little boy, near two other couples who’d been invited to share in the Thanksgiving meal. Julia felt disconnected from the festivity. She had no appetite and didn’t feel particularly thankful at the moment. More than anything, she wanted the day to be over with so she could return to her laptop. There was less time to think when her mind was occupied.
When all the food had been placed on the table, everyone clasped hands and her brother said grace. While he prayed, Julia silently asked for forgiveness for her sour mood. After the ‘amen’, everyone began to pass the food around, murmuring appreciatively as they filled their plates. Julia served herself only the tiniest helpings and mostly just pushed the food around. Even ambrosia would’ve nauseated her today.
Brian and Sara carried on a lively conversation with the guests and they all seemed oblivious to her lack of participation. Julia was glad. If she had to put one more fake smile on her face, she thought she would scream. Maintaining a bright countenance at work already drained her of her limited energy—energy she needed to complete the job.
She watched as Alan had his first taste of candied yams. She cracked a smile when she saw him promptly spit the yams out onto his little bib. A boy after my own heart. Brian looked over at her. He furrowed his brows and gave her a questioning look. She returned his look with a limpid stare, stifling the urge to stick her tongue out at him.
The happiest moment of the day came when the guests left. She could clean the kitchen and be left alone. Shooing Sara away to play with the baby, Julia filled the dishwasher with the first load of dishes and turned it on. Next, she filled the sink to begin on the big stuff. Plunging pots and pans into a sink full of hot, bubbly water, she wished she could drown her sorrows just as easily.
Julia smiled grimly at her morbid thoughts. After shoving her feelings deep for so long, it gave her a sick kind of satisfaction to give in to a blue funk. She dipped her arms in the water up to her elbows, hoping to draw a measure of heat into her cold limbs.
An almighty pain stung her backside, making her suck in her breath. Julia whirled around and found her brother with a wet dishtowel in his hands. Brian held onto both ends, spinning it around, getting it ready for another shot.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she panted, rubbing her bottom.
He grinned wickedly. “Trying to get you to snap out of it. Get it? Snap out of it?” To punctuate his pun, he flicked the towel at her again and hit her in the thigh. What little restraint remained dissolved as Julia scooped up a cup of water and flung it in his direction.
Brian, soaked to the skin, sputtered in disbelief. “That was a dirty trick!”
“Wrong, it’s soapy water, so you’re clean! Get it?” Julia dodged another zinger from the dishtowel. “You missed!”
Brian lunged for the sink and splashed her with dishwater in revenge. Sara walked in, looked shocked by what she saw, and quickly scurried out. Julia took advantage of Brian’s distraction by shoving a cold, wet sponge down the front of his shirt.
“Hey!” He turned and grabbed her none too gently. “You keep forgetting I’m bigger than you!”
Julia twisted her arm to free herself and jabbed a finger between his ribs. He recoiled. She snatched the towel out of his hands. Giving it a spin, she snapped it at him, found her mark, and readied for another. Brian grabbed the towel in mid-air and yanked her to him. But before he could get a good hold on her, Julia kicked him in the shin.
Rubbing his leg, he glared at her. “I forgot how dirty you fight!”
She primly stuck her tongue out and tried to run past him out of the kitchen. Brian put his foot out and tripped her. With an ungraceful splat, she sprawled belly first onto the floor.
“Now look who’s fighting dirty!” she gasped. As she attempted to crawl away, Brian grabbed hold of her ankle, flipped her over and dragged her back to him, pinning her to the floor.
Breathing heavily, Julia made a valiant effort to glower at him, but an irrepressible smile plagued her lips.
“Feeling better?” Brian asked softly.
Julia’s smile faltered and her breath hitched in her throat. She nodded.
Brian clambered to his feet and helped her up. Before she could turn away, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight.
Julia pressed her face against his chest and fought an overwhelming urge to cry. She failed. Suddenly a torrent broke loose, soaking Brian’s already wet shirt with her tears. Between hiccups, she mumbled her mortified apologies. Brian responded with another hug. Julia squeezed her eyes shut and gratefully returned his embrace, realizing she had so much to be thankful for. More than she deserved.
Chapter Twenty-Four
For Marc, the Christmas break couldn’t come soon enough. The days inched along and he wearied of wondering when he’d see Julia again. When he did run into her, he was always unprepared for the effect she had on him. Two weeks of freedom would ease the strain. I hope. He planned to leave town on the twenty-fourth and spend the holidays with his friends in Maupin. Maybe their company would help him feel centered again.
After straightening his desk and gathering his camera bags and portfolio case, he headed into the hallway. A bustle of activity met him as faculty rushed around trying to complete last-minute tasks before the long break. Christmas decorations hung limply from every possible ledge and surface. He thought they were tacky and looked forward to finding them gone when classes resumed.
On his way to the office to pick up his staff mail, he saw Julia working in her cubicle. She stared blankly at her screen. The white glow made her appear wan. Her usually straight shoulders were slightly slumped as she pecked at an occasional key. Although she looked exhausted, Marc considered her the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Unable to resist, he lingered for a moment and watched her. When she pressed her fingertips to her forehead, the gesture tugged at his heart.
Marc turned to go, then stopped.
There was no reason why he couldn’t be civil to her. It’s Christmas for crying out loud. I could at least say something like Happy Holidays.
He walked slowly to her desk, drinking in the sight of her. She glanced up and nearly jumped out of her chair. Pressing a hand at the base of her throat, she stared up at him with a dazed expression.
“I’m sorry,” Marc said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Julia lowered her eyes and smoothed back a stray lock of hair. “That’s all right.”
Silence stretched awkwardly between them.
“Do you have any special plans for the holidays?” he finally asked.
She shook her head. “I’ll be working here. I have to finish up by Christmas.” She swallowed. “What about you?”
“I plan to stay with friends in Maupin.”
“The same ones I met?”
He nodded.
“Please tell them hello for me.”
Marc stifled an absurd urge to invite her along with him. “I will.” Her uncertain smile, failing to reach her eyes, saddened him. What have I done?
“Well...” said Julia, obviously uncomfortable. “I hope you have a nice time.”
He shrugged. “Bye, Julia.”
“Um, bye.”
Marc turned and walked away. A few feet from the door, he looked over his shoulder and saw her watching him. Julia jerked her gaze away, but not before he imagined seeing a glimpse of wistfulness there.
***
The day before he planned to leave for Maupin, Marc had an appointment with his editor to discuss an idea for another book. He wanted to do one featuring a photographic essay of Oregon rivers. Sitting in a booth in a corner of the restaurant, he checked his watch and frowned. He glanced around the trendy Italian restaurant Nathan had suggested they meet at for lunch. His editor was a half an hour late.
Lights and Shadows (Oregon In Love) Page 16
