“Until I got tired of being his little door mat,” she fumed. “Then he got tired of being nice.” She changed from her dress into her favorite flannel finery, and headed back to the kitchen to dig around in her refrigerator for something to fill her empty stomach.
She was feeling better until her phone rang. She dug it out of the couch cushions where she’d tossed it after hanging up on Renata.
Phoebe. Juliette couldn’t imagine Renata calling Phoebe on purpose, but she supposed it was possible tonight. They were in cahoots on this whole ridiculous intervention, after all.
“Hey, Phoebe.” Juliette tried to sound casual.
“Hey, Jules.” Phoebe sounded just as casual. “Comment allez-vous?”
“I’m fine, thank you. And how are you, little sister?”
“I’m fine, too. Whatcha up to?”
“Actually, I’m getting ready for a big night in. I’m in my jammies, and I’ve put the kettle on for hot chocolate. Now all I have to do is figure out something to eat and find a good movie to watch. Wanna join me? You bring dessert.”
“What happened to Paul?”
“He went home,” Juliette quipped, keeping her voice light.
“I see.” She didn’t say anything else, and Juliette sighed. She didn’t want to talk about it, but apparently, it was unavoidable.
“I sent him packing.” She dropped onto the couch. “He was awful, like some fatherly version of Mike. I’m serious. He even dressed like him. Couldn’t Ren have been a little more creative?” Phoebe chuckled on the other end of the line. “It’s not funny!”
“I thought about screening her guys, but then she’d make us do the same with ours, just in case I sent over one of my hot, young models, or Gia tried to hook you up with a pimple-faced teenager.”
Juliette moaned at the thought of either one. “I will not go out with someone I might have given birth to, got that? In fact, I don’t know that I’m up for any more dates at all.”
“Were you serious about me joining you?”Phoebe asked after a moment’s pause.
“Of course. Even though I know you’re going to try to talk me into going out again. But I was also serious about dessert. I won’t let you in if you’re not packing sugar.”
Juliette and Phoebe sat at either end of the sofa, facing each other, their feet tucked underneath each other’s rear ends. They sipped hot chocolate and passed back and forth the bucket of ice cream bon-bons Phoebe brought.
“Am I really so pathetic, Phoebe? I’m telling you, if tonight was as good as it gets, I’m calling this whole thing off. I finally talked myself into being okay with going out for a little fun, and the first one out the chute is Thera-Paul!”
“Well, I can’t speak for Gia’s guys, but my friend is up next, and he’s no Thera-Paul.” Phoebe smiled smugly.
“So prep me. And do a better job than Ren did.”
Phoebe frowned. “She prepped you? That’s against the rules.”
Juliette rolled her eyes, her bluff called. “No, she didn’t. In fact, she told me nothing. But I think I deserve to know if the guy’s a weirdo, don’t you?”
“Absolutely! I can tell you that much. My guy’s a weirdo.” Phoebe popped another bon-bon into her mouth.
“Forget it. I don’t want to play anymore.”
“He’s weird in a good way, though.”
“Come on. You gotta give me something.” Juliette shoved a bon-bon in each cheek and grinned like a chipmunk.
“No, I don’t. That’s disgusting.”
“Yeth, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeth, you do.”
“No, I….”
“All right!” Juliette interjected, spitting one of the chocolates into her napkin. “Be like Ren, then.” It was the worst insult she could think of at the moment. “And you’re right. That was disgusting.” She wiped her mouth with a clean napkin.
“So, speaking of Ren, when are you going to make up with her?” Phoebe asked.
“Never.”
“Come on, Jules. You know she’s trying.”
“Trying is right. She’s extremely trying. And why are you, of all people, defending her? You two don’t even like each other.”
“I love Rennie,” Phoebe laughed. “She and I aren’t as different as she thinks we are. But I can see that better than she can. I know she loves me. She just has a hard time showing it.”
“Whatever. You two fight like cats and dogs. You always have.”
“It’s not real fighting, though.” Phoebe swallowed the last of her tea. “I’ve just made it my job to remind Ren that she’s not perfect. I love her too much to let her convince herself that she is.” She set her empty teacup on the coffee table and settled back into her corner of the sofa. “And she loves me enough to do the same for me.”
Juliette didn’t miss the flicker of pain in her sister’s eyes, and she poked her in the thigh with her turquoise toe. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Je t'aime, Phoebe Gustafson.”
“I love you more.”
“Only because there’s more of me to love.”
“Stop it. You’re perfect just the way you are, Jules.” Phoebe looked imploringly at her. “You know, I almost feel sorry for Mike, even though he never deserved you.” She reached down and squeezed Juliette’s ankle. “He let go of the best thing that ever happened to him. You.”
Juliette still struggled to imagine her life without the man she’d built it around. What was wrong with her that he didn’t want her? Why did he let her go?
“But don’t you ever let a man take the best of you, Jules. That’s no man’s right to take. Only yours to give.” Something in Phoebe’s voice made Juliette stop thinking about Mike.
“Phoebe?” she asked gently. “Did you—did something—someone…?”
Phoebe’s vague smile only confirmed her suspicions, and Juliette stretched out a hand to her younger sister, rather shaken by the haunted look usually masked by her beauty. How had she never noticed it before? They laced fingers, the connection tender, and when Phoebe’s eyes welled up, hers did too. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Phoebe shook her head and squeezed her hand before letting it go. “Someday, maybe. Not today. Besides, I’m here for you, remember?”
“Oh goodness, Phebes. I’m fine. You know that. But now I’m worried about you.” Juliette straightened up and crossed her legs like a pretzel, an elbow on the back of the sofa, resting her head on her palm. “Does this have anything to do with what’s between you and Ren?”
Phoebe lifted her shoulders in a dismissive gesture. “What’s between us is old history. You said it yourself. We’ve argued our whole lives. There’s always been stuff between us, and if there isn’t anything, one of us will make something up just to keep the argument going.” She waved a long finger at Juliette. “Which is why you two have to stop fighting. I can’t stand the competition.”
Juliette studied her sister, a little taken aback by her ability to set aside her pain so effectively; obviously a well-rehearsed habit. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I won’t push. But….”
“Jules. I’m fine. You need to stop worrying about me.”
“Like that will ever happen. Worrying is like breathing to me, Phoebe. You know that.”
Phoebe held out the nearly empty ice cream carton. “Well, since I can’t ask you to stop breathing, have another bon-bon. Then tell me what you’re going to wear on your date next Monday.”
~ ~ ~
Juliette and the Monday ManDates is available to purchase on Amazon, or borrow through the Kindle Lending Library.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Becky Doughty was raised on the mission field among the indigenous tribes of West Papua, but her ministry is through her pen, and her heart is for people living on the edge–that fine line where grace becomes truly amazing. She writes about HOPE, and her stories are woven together by the scarlet thread of GRACE. Becky is married to her champion of more than 25 yea
rs. They have three children, two of whom are grown and starting families of their own, and they all live within a few miles of each other in Southern California.
To connect with Becky Doughty:
Website: www.BeckyDoughty.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeckySDoughty
Facebook: www.facebook.com/BeckyDoughtyAuthor
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Email: [email protected]
Elderberry Croft: The Complete Collection Page 40
