Elderberry Croft: The Complete Collection

by Becky Doughty

  A few minutes later, the phone rang again. “Are you serious?” She pushed the TV tray away and scrambled for the purse she’d dropped on the floor at the end of the couch. It was Renata. “What do you want,” she muttered under her breath, while she considered whether or not she could handle talking to her sister right now.

  Either she was calling to make sure Juliette wasn’t drowning herself in the bathtub, or she was calling to try to coerce her into going on another family outing to Pizza Haven or the local dog park. “I don’t even have a dog! Or a family, for that matter. Or a man.” She sighed and brought the phone to her ear.

  “Hi, Ren.” She knew she sounded miserable, but she didn’t care. Regardless of how she answered the phone, Renata believed Juliette was seriously depressed, and if she sounded otherwise, her sister reminded her that she didn’t have to fake it with her.

  “How are you, sweetie?”

  “Why do you call me sweetie?” Juliette voiced the first question that popped into her head, belligerence tattering the edges of her words. She softened her tone just a little. “In fact, you call all of us that.”

  “Do I?” Renata asked. “It must be because I think you’re all so sweet. And actually, I don’t call Phoebe that. She’d rip my head off and drop-kick it into outer space.”

  “Hm. Did you two have another run-in?” Juliette smirked at her own ridiculous question. Renata and Phoebe never had anything but run-ins.

  As though reading her thoughts, Renata replied, “We don’t have run-ins. We just think differently. But I didn’t call you to talk about Phoebe. I called to find out how you’re doing.”

  “I’m fine.” Juliette opted for cryptic. She’d forgotten to turn down the movie and was having a hard time focusing on what Renata was saying.

  “You’re fine? Really? What is that noise? Do you have company?”

  “I’m fine. Really. The noise is a movie. No, I don’t have company. Any other questions?” She rolled her eyes as the two main characters on screen started moving toward each other across a parking lot in slow motion.

  “You’re starting to sound like Phoebe.” Juliette could hear the disdain in Renata’s voice and it made her bristle.

  “That’s not such a bad thing,” Juliette said, defending their younger sister.

  “Oh relax. I don’t mean it’s bad. I just mean you don’t sound like you, because you’re acting like her.” She sighed. “Again, I didn’t call to talk about Phoebe.”

  “What did you call about, Ren?” Juliette couldn’t decide which was worse; this conversation or her movie.

  “We had a G-FOURce yesterday.”

  All ears now, she grabbed the remote and paused the lovers mid-lunge. “What? Why didn’t anyone call me? I didn’t know.” She didn’t remember scheduling a meeting with her sisters.

  “Wait.” A terrible thought occurred to her. “Renata, why didn’t I know there was a G-FOURce yesterday?”

  “Because we needed to meet without you. We’re having a follow-up tomorrow, though, and you need to be there for that one.”

  “What’s going on? I don’t like the sound of this. In fact, I’m not sure I really want to be there.” Juliette’s mind was spinning. They’d met without her. That meant they’d met to talk about her. “This is another one of your interventions, isn’t it?”

  Renata didn’t deny it. “We’re worried about you, sweetie.”

  “Stop calling me that! I’m not your sweetie, Renata. I’m not your child, and I’m not some empty-headed twit who needs to be called placating names.” Juliette pressed her forehead into the palm of her free hand and closed her eyes, immediately ashamed of her uncharacteristic outburst. “Look, I don’t need an intervention, okay? Yes, I’m sad. Yes, I’m even slightly depressed. When I think about Mike, I get hot and sweaty, but not in a good way. I get sad, and then angry, and then wonder what’s so wrong with me that he couldn’t love me like I loved him.”

  “Wouldn’t,” Renata interjected. “Love is a decision, Juliette. That’s why John and I are still married after all these years.”

  Ah yes. Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. “Regardless, my reactions are normal. I’m not on the verge of suicide, and I’m not going to go be a hermit on some isolated mountaintop. I just need a little time to lick my wounds and heal up a bit.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Ren? Are you still there?”

  “Tomorrow. Five o’clock. Your place. That way you can’t ditch us. Come straight home from work, Juliette. Don’t dawdle.” The phone went dead in her hand.

  “Yes, Mother,” Juliette muttered. She glared down the sofa to her spot at the other end where her food waited patiently, trying not to congeal. Her plastic fork had been knocked to the floor in her scramble for the phone and was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t really care; she wasn’t so hungry anymore.

  “I need a dog,” she said. “One that will love me unconditionally. And eat my cold left-overs.”

  Chapter 2

  “I DON’T think she’s here.” Gia perched on the concrete planter box while Renata rapped her knuckles on the front door.

  “She’s here. She wouldn’t dare ditch us.” She knocked on the door again, a little harder this time. “And of course, Phoebe’s late as usual.”

  “Actually, we’re both here,” Phoebe drawled as she and Juliette came up the walk behind them. “I, darling Ren, got here early.”

  Renata had the decency to look abashed, but there would be no apology coming any time soon. Besides, it was a rare day indeed when Phoebe was on time, no less early.

  Juliette hugged Renata and Gia, and unlocked her front door. “We walked down to the market on the corner. Mona says ‘hi.’” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “You didn’t have to do that. I brought chocolate chip rice cakes.” Renata held aloft a bag and Juliette rolled her eyes at her sister’s version of indulgence.

  “Thanks, but since I’m being forced to host this event, I get to decide what refreshments we’re having. In fact, you two should thank Phoebe. She talked me out of serving canned liverwurst and Vienna sausages. After you all held a G-FOURce without me, I wasn’t feeling very gracious toward any of you.” She stood back to usher them in. “Besides, I have a feeling I’ll need a little comfort food when this is all over. Come in, my traitorous siblings, and make yourselves at home.”

  “Do you really have some Vienna sausages?” Gia asked as she passed by. “I love those things.”

  “Please don’t admit that in public, mon cochon,” Phoebe teased, tugging on one of Gia’s corkscrew curls.

  “I’ll go get the java,” Juliette closed the door behind them. “I started it before we left; again, thanks to Phoebe’s powers of persuasion.”

  They settled into their regular spots around the coffee table; Renata in the brown leather recliner, Gia on the floor, leaning up against the front of the television cabinet, and Phoebe on one end of the couch, leaving Juliette’s end empty. They all knew better than to sit there.

  Juliette returned with her tray of coffee fixings, and they gathered around, preparing their drinks, and oohing over the box of pastries from Mona’s Market. Along with an assortment of cookies, there was a chocolate éclair for Gia, a pumpkin spice scone for Phoebe, a slice of glazed lemon cake for Renata, and an enormous cinnamon roll for Juliette.

  “What happened to your triple chocolate brownie?” Gia asked, noticing the change in Juliette’s selection.

  “It occurred to me I never really liked the triple chocolate brownie as much as Mike did. I’ve always wanted one of these ridiculously sticky, drippy, gooey things, but he was a dentist and didn’t approve.” She closed her eyes in ecstasy as she bit into the roll. “Oh, you guys. This is divine. I might just die a happy woman.” With her forefinger, she swiped a dollop of creamy icing off the top of her roll and stuck it in her mouth. “Who needs a man when I can have Mona’s sticky buns?”

  “Juliette, you little hussy!” Phoebe smirked.


  “Phoebe!” Renata reprimanded.

  Gia grinned from behind her éclair.

  “Mona,” Juliette sighed rapturously. “I love you. You and Mr. Yu.”

  “Speaking of love.” Renata effectively put an end to the frivolity. “It’s time to officially start our meeting. Gia?”

  Before she came along, they’d called themselves G-Force3, a name their grandfather gave them. “When you girls get your minds set on something, there’s not a thing in this world that can stop you,” he declared. “You’re like a living, breathing G-force!” When Gia was initiated in at eight years old, they officially changed the name of their sister club to G-FOURce.

  As the youngest member, it was Gia’s job to begin the pledge. “Welcome Empress Juliette, Empress Renata, and Empress Phoebe.” She pressed her hands together in a prayer-like manner and nodded her head to each sister accordingly.

  “Welcome, Empress Georgia.” The other three spoke just as somberly, nodding back at her.

  They clasped hands, then, forming a circle, and began the G-FOURce pledge, a time-honored tradition that had somehow survived adolescence into adulthood.

  Let the words of our mouths

  Be necessary, kind, and true.

  Let the secrets we share

  Be kept safe amongst us few.

  Let the decisions that we make

  Be brave, noble, and wise

  Oogie-boogie-doggy-loogie

  Wiggly-jiggly-fries!

  G-FOURce unite!

  They didn’t collapse into giggles the way they used to, but none of them was quite grown up enough to give it up. The pledge was like an unbroken cord weaving through their lives, binding them together.

  Renata took a deep breath. “Juliette, this is an intervention.”

  “I knew it! No. This G-FOURce is over.” Juliette stood up and tried to take Renata’s plate.

  “Stop it!” Renata refused to relinquish her half-eaten lemon cake, and a brief tug-of-war ensued.

  Phoebe started whooping, her fist in the air, “Cat fight! Cat fight!”

  Gia’s eyes darted from one sister to another, a mixture of delight and horror on her face.

  Then Juliette let go and stepped back. Cake and crumbs went flying up into the air, and Renata shrieked as it all came back down, showering her with sticky lemon dessert. Phoebe cheered, and Gia ducked behind a cushion she held up in front of her.

  “You … you brat!” Renata sputtered, frantically brushing crumbs from her clothes, fingering them out of her hair. “What is wrong with you?”

  “What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you? With all of you?” Juliette retorted, gathering things onto the coffee tray. “Go home, Empresses. G-FOURce is not united today.”

  “Jules, come on.” Phoebe pleaded, quickly stifling her laughter.

  “And you, Gia? Are you actually here by your own free will?” Juliette turned a scathing look on the youngest Gustafson sister. Gia stayed behind her cushion.

  “Jules, not cool. She’s here for the same reason we all are; because we care about you. Sit down, Big Sister. You too, Ren.” Phoebe fixed her gaze on a scowling Renata.

  “I don’t want to sit down if I’m going to be attacked again.”

  “Oh, please. I didn’t attack you,” Juliette scoffed. “I a-caked you.” She laughed, silently at first, then her whole body began to shake until she had to put down the tray lest she drop it. She clutched her stomach as she stared helplessly at Renata, and the more indignant her sister became, the harder she laughed. In a huff, Renata began to gather her things.

  “No wait,” Juliette gasped, grabbing at her sister’s arm. “I’m sorry, Rennie. Seriously. I don’t know why that’s so funny.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, wiping her eyes. “A-caked. It isn’t funny at all, really. I don’t even know why I’m laughing.”

  Renata stood, indecision making her appear vulnerable, and Gia spoke up. “Please, Ren, don’t go.”

  Finally, she turned around, and picking up the bigger chunks of cake, she brushed the rest into the palm of her hand. “If we don’t vacuum this up, it’ll be ground into the carpet.”

  Still going into intermittent silent paroxysms, Juliette opened the coat closet in the tiny foyer, and pulled out the lightweight machine she used almost every night before bed. She ran it over the carpet all around the chair, then using the hose, she vacuumed the crumbs off the cushions. When she was finished, she held it up to Renata, a question in her laughing eyes.

  “No!” Renata stepped back, swatting at the offending nozzle. But she was trying not to smile.

  When everyone was settled again, Renata began once more. “Jules.” The nickname sounded awkward coming from her. “We think it’s time for you to wash your hands of Mike. So we’ve come up with a plan.”

  Juliette rolled her eyes.

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  Juliette sighed heavily.

  “In fact, you’re going to try to get out of it, but you should know that we’ve thought of everything.”

  Juliette moaned and pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “You look like a pill-bug,” Gia observed.

  “Maybe an armadillo,” Phoebe quipped, and they both laughed.

  “Girls.” Renata reined them in again. “Okay. We have a list of eligible men—”

  “What?” Juliette interrupted, her voice rising to a near shriek. “Just kill me now!”

  “Juliette, listen to me. We are not going to stand by and let you wither away over Mike. Just because he was too blind to see how wonderful you are, doesn’t mean every other man is, too.” Juliette glared at her, but she continued, her chin thrust forward. “So we’ve made up a list of eligible men, and you’re going to out with each one of them until you get out of this slump.”

  “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. What is this? High school? No, junior high!” Juliette held a cushion to her face in an attempt to block them out.

  “We aren’t expecting you to fall in love with any of them. We just want you to go out and enjoy yourself. Have fun.”

  Juliette didn’t speak. She sat with her pillow over her face for so long that Gia finally whispered, “Did she fall asleep?”

  “Juliette, sweetie?”

  “Is suffocation that easy?” Phoebe poked Juliette’s thigh with her toe.

  “I’m alive, unfortunately, and awake. I’m just hoping that if I stay behind this pillow long enough, you three will disappear, and all this will turn out to have been a nightmare.” Juliette lowered the cushion a few inches. “Shoot. You’re still here.” She wished she was somewhere else; anywhere but here.

  No, she wished her sisters were anywhere but here. This was her spot.

  What made them think she’d even consider this ludicrous plan? She didn’t feel like dating, and she really didn’t feel like forgetting about Mike. At least, she didn’t want to forget about being angry with him. She wasn’t quite ready to stop feeling sorry for herself, either.

  “This is an intervention, Juliette, not a choice,” Renata continued. “We’ll give you a few days to get used to the idea, but unless you can come up with a really, really good reason not to participate, the first guy will be here a week from Monday to pick you up.”

  “That’s ten whole days, Jules. You can be ready!” Gia was full of encouragement, her copper curls bobbing around her face as she nodded.

  Renata held up a paper on which were several names and phone numbers. “Here’s the list. We were going to call it The Monday Man-Dates, but we decided that was too cheesy.”

  “Too cheesy? Ha! I think it’s perfect. This is cheese at its finest! And stinkiest,” Juliette snorted, grabbing for the paper in Renata’s hand. “Let me see that.”

  Renata jerked it out of her reach. “Oh, no, you don’t. This is for our eyes only. We only tell them that we’re setting them up with you on a blind date. We only tell you their first names. But you have the benefit of knowing that every guy on the list is
a personal friend to one of us. Or to John. They’re all close to your age; give or take a few years.” Then she added as an afterthought, “I’m coming to pick you up next Saturday to take you clothes shopping.”

  “I have plenty of clothes.”

  “How would anyone know that? You wear the same thing every day. Black pants, faded top.” Renata pointed at Juliette’s pale green shirt.

  “I do not,” she declared, slightly affronted.

  “Hey. Be nice.”

  “I am being nice, Phoebe. She needs to hear the truth, and at least I love her enough to give it to her.”

  “I’m sitting right here, you know.” Juliette had to break it up before any more cake got thrown. “And I like my wardrobe. If I’m stuck going out on a few dates to get you three off my back, fine. But I’m going as me. In my own clothes. My own style.” She liked her neutral colors. She thought they made her look soft, ladylike, and steady. She wasn’t artistic like Phoebe, or funky like Gia. And she wasn’t anything like Renata in her tailored shirts and cropped linen pants. She was just Juliette. Black and white, no surprises, no drama. Steady. Neutral.

  ~ ~ ~

  DURING the course of the following week, she tried on several different outfits from her closet, until she secretly admitted her sisters were right. Her wardrobe wasn’t neutral, it was boring. By Sunday night, she’d finally settled on her favorite pair of black pants, with a long, lightweight sweater. Trying it on, she eyed herself in the mirror. The buttery beige knit didn’t add any pizazz to her appearance, but she wasn’t shooting for pizazz.

  Then Mike showed up on her doorstep.

  He brought tiger lilies.

  Red tiger lilies. Her favorite flowers in the whole world.

  He remembered.

  But she couldn’t afford to forget so easily.

  Chapter 3

  “MIKE.” She greeted him flatly, not wanting him to suspect just how flustered his appearance made her.