Miss Julia Weathers the Storm

by Ann B. Ross

“Oh, he goes out occasionally. Every Thursday, he goes to lunch with some people he used to work with. Then he goes to the library. Library, ha! He just lugs books back and forth. I’ve never seen him read them.” LuAnne clasped her hands in her lap. “But, see, Julia, I go out all the time. I’m always home at mealtimes because that’s my job, but now I see that I really don’t know what he does when I’m gone.”

  I nodded, for that was true. LuAnne volunteered for any number of good causes, mostly, I’d always assumed, because she was bored to death at home. As who wouldn’t be with Leonard ensconced in a recliner with the remote in his hand?

  “So what’re you going to do?” I asked softly and with great sympathy. “Binkie is a good lawyer if you want to talk to her. And Mr. Ernest Sitton is, too, if Binkie is too close a friend.”

  “I don’t know. I can’t even think. All I know is that I can’t go back there. Julia,” she said, grabbing my hand and looking at me with eyes gone wide and wild, “I might kill him.”

  And I believed her. As impetuous as I knew LuAnne to occasionally be, I believed her. So at that point, I opened my mouth and said something that I lived to regret.

  Chapter 6

  “Why don’t you go to the beach with us?” I said, and at her raised eyebrows, went on. “We’re leaving Sunday for a couple of weeks at the Isle of Palms. Listen, LuAnne, it will get you away for a while and give you a chance to decide what you want to do.” And also, I thought but didn’t say, prevent you from committing great bodily harm on Leonard, thereby keeping you out of jail.

  “I didn’t know you were going to the beach.” LuAnne gave me a hurt look as if I’d been keeping something from her.

  “It just came up. Sam decided that he wanted to get everybody together and go somewhere before school starts.”

  “Everybody?” she asked. “Who all’s going?”

  “Oh, the Pickens family and the Bates family and Lloyd, of course. And Latisha because Lillian needs some time off.”

  “Then you don’t want me tagging along. You’ll have your hands full entertaining everybody. And I don’t want to end up sleeping on a sofa.”

  I suppressed a sigh of exasperation. “Several things, LuAnne. First, I don’t intend to be entertaining anybody. They’ll all be on their own. We may have a few meals together, but other than that, everybody will entertain themselves. And Sam is renting a large house with six bedroom suites. You won’t be sleeping on a sofa.

  “Look, LuAnne, the best thing you can do right now is to get away from it all. That way you’ll be able to weigh your options and decide what you want to do.”

  “But what will I do between now and Sunday? I can’t go home. I can’t spend four more days with him.” She shuddered. “Or four more nights, either.”

  “You can stay here,” I said, wondering just how deep I was getting in. “Lloyd won’t be using his room. He’ll be busy packing and helping his mother get the twins ready for the trip.” Lloyd essentially had two homes, his mother’s and mine, and he came and went between them as he wanted.

  “Well,” LuAnne said, almost as a child putting up one excuse after another, “I can’t just stay. I don’t have any clothes with me.”

  “You’ll have to go home and get them. Obviously,” I said, almost as a mother parrying the excuses. “You can do that. Just go home, get what you’ll need for the next several weeks, and get out of there. And at the same time, you can tell Leonard that he’s on his own. You don’t want to leave without telling him. He might report you as a missing person.”

  “Huh!” she said. “He won’t even notice till it’s time to eat. But, Julia,” she went on as she raised another objection, “what if he has that woman come in while I’m gone?”

  “All the more you’ll have to use against him, if it comes to that.”

  “But I don’t want her in my house. It’s my home! The only one I have.” And the tears gushed out again.

  “That’s why you need to get away and decide what’s best for you, LuAnne. But here’s another thing,” I went on, consumed now with curiosity. “Who is she?”

  “That’s just the thing!” she cried. “I can’t imagine who it is. He never goes anywhere to meet anybody. And, let’s face it, Julia, he’s no great catch—he’s seventy-eight years old, he’s all out of shape, he has no conversation to speak of, and he has no interests and no opinions, and frankly, he’s boring. I mean, who in the world would want him?”

  I’d been asking myself the same thing.

  “Well, here’s something else,” I said. “How long has it been going on? If it’s a recent thing, it could just be the last fling of an aging man. For reassurance purposes, don’t you know. And if that’s the case and you want him back, I expect something like getting away for a few days would be all you’d need to do. But that’s for you to decide.”

  “I can’t decide anything right now,” she said, leaning back against the sofa. “I’m just overwhelmed with it all. But,” she went on, sitting up, “you’re right, Julia. I need to find out how long it’s been going on and who she is. I need to know what I’m up against. And,” she said, getting to her feet, “I’m going to find out right now. I’m going back up there and give him a chance to come clean and ask forgiveness. And then, I’m going to hold my head up high in this town if it kills me, and, besides, it’s the Christian thing to do, isn’t it?”

  “Well, backing him into a corner might not be a good idea. Why don’t you—”

  “No,” she said firmly, “why should I have to leave my home? He’s the one in the wrong, so why should I have to move out? He can either admit everything or he can leave and move in with her. We’ll see how she likes that.”

  “LuAnne, I’m not sure about giving him ultimatums. They could backfire on you, especially since you’re up in the air about what you want.”

  “I’m not up in the air about anything. I want my home, and I want him out of it. And I want her name, and I want a complete admission—dates, times, frequency, and how much he’s spent on her. I want it all, Julia, because otherwise I’ll never be able to hold my head up in this town again.

  “Anyway,” she said with a huge sigh, “thank you, Julia, for listening and understanding. I feel better now. I’m going back to our condo on the mountain—where, I remind you, he promised me we’d have a lovely retirement—and I’m going to have it out with him.”

  “Well, if you’re sure,” I said, standing with her. “But both invitations stand. You’re welcome to come here for the next few days and to go to the beach with us.”

  —

  After seeing LuAnne out with, I admit, some doubt as to the wisdom of what she was planning to do, I hurried to the kitchen. I found Sam still at the kitchen table, half of a slice of apple pie in front of him as he turned a page of the newspaper.

  “Lillian’s gone?” I asked.

  “Yes, she called her doctor as you suggested, and he wanted to see her right away. But, Julia, that old car of hers is in bad shape—took forever for the engine to turn over. We need to do something about that, but, here,” he said, standing, “she left a plate in the oven for you. Come sit down. I’ll get it.”

  “I’m worried about her car, too. But stay where you are. I’ll get it. I’m not even sure I can eat anything. Oh, Sam, you’re not going to believe what’s happened. I’m so upset about it.” But not so upset that I was unable to retrieve my plate from the oven, pour a glass of tea, sit at the table, and begin devouring my long-delayed dinner.

  Sam smiled, put down the paper, and said, “Take your time. I might not believe what’s happened to LuAnne, but then I rarely believe everything I hear.”

  “Well, prepare yourself, because this is going to shake you. Leonard Conover is having an affair.”

  Sam’s eyebrows went straight up. “I don’t believe it.”

  I had to laugh, but abruptly stopped when he frowned and s
aid, “But you know, I did hear a few rumors some years ago. I discounted them and never gave it much thought after that.”

  “Years ago? And you didn’t tell me?”

  “As I said, I didn’t believe it then and find it hard to believe now.”

  “I know. I’m the same way. But, Sam, some woman called LuAnne and told her to give him up, and when LuAnne confronted him, he as much as admitted it. Said he needed solace. Can you believe that?”

  “I’ll take the Fifth, if I may. But when I think of what it might be like to live with LuAnne, solace makes a strange kind of sense. And I like LuAnne.”

  “I know you do, and I’m counting on it. Because I’ve invited her to stay here with us until we leave Sunday. And then go on to the beach with us.” I gave him a sideways glance to see how he would take that announcement. “See,” I hurried on, “she really needs to get away so she can think clearly. And everybody will be so busy going to and from the beach and watching out for children that one more person won’t make a difference. I know I should’ve talked to you first, but . . .”

  “Honey, you don’t need my permission for anything you want to do. And, of course, she’s welcome to come here and to go with us if she wants to. But, listen, don’t leave me hanging. Who is this remarkable woman who’s able to lure Leonard away from the television?”

  “Nobody knows! I mean, I don’t, and LuAnne doesn’t, although she thinks everybody’s talking about it.” I leaned forward, hoping he had the answer. “When you heard those rumors years ago, who was he supposed to be seeing?”

  “I’m not sure a name was ever mentioned. I have a vague recollection that it was somebody who worked with him. In the same office or area or something. Work related, anyway. But don’t go on that, Julia. Obviously it wasn’t important enough to stick, and it was a long time ago.”

  Leonard had been retired for so long that I could barely remember what he’d done when he wasn’t. Some civil service job, I thought. Local civil service—that is, a county job in the annex to the courthouse, it seemed to me.

  “That would make sense though,” I agreed, nodding, “because, really, he never went anywhere but to work, and when he went out socially, it was always with LuAnne. It would be hard to connect, unnoticed, with another woman in a social setting. I mean, of the kind we have.”

  “Right,” Sam said, smiling, “no one could accuse us of being a fast crowd, could they? Where’s LuAnne now?”

  “She’s gone home to confront him and demand some answers. She wants to know who and for how long. And, Sam, she seemed to have herself well in hand when she left, but the more I think about it, the more concerned I get. At one point, she threatened to kill him. What if I just let her go and she actually does it?”

  “Oh, I doubt it’ll come to that. If anything, she’ll give him a good tongue-lashing. Which he deserves and which will make her feel better. Because, let’s face it, Julia, I doubt she has too many options, financially speaking. She’ll realize that, and, as likely as not, they’ll have it out with each other, and it’ll all blow over.”

  I smiled at my sunny, optimistic husband who always kept me anchored with his plain good sense. And hoped he was right.

  Chapter 7

  “Oh, by the way,” Sam said, “I confirmed that house—the one I showed you online. And everybody’s on board to go. Your suggestion about the food makes them feel they’re contributing.”

  “Well, good. And we leave Sunday?”

  “Yep, we can’t get the house keys till three that afternoon. If we leave no later than midmorning, we can stop for lunch in Columbia, and get there in plenty of time for a swim before dark.”

  “Hmm,” I said, laying my knife and fork across my plate, then realized that I was signaling only myself. So I got up and began clearing the table. “I can’t wait. But, seriously, Sam, this is an extraordinarily generous thing you’re doing. And I’m looking forward to it.”

  Just as I’d rinsed my plate and put it in the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. Glancing at Sam, I murmured, “Oh, my,” and hurried to answer it.

  LuAnne, tear streaked and pitiful looking, stood there on the porch surrounded by three suitcases, two full shopping bags, and an armful of hanging clothes. It must’ve taken her five trips between her car at the curb and my front door.

  “Oh, LuAnne,” I said. “Come in. Come on in, honey. Just leave everything. Sam will take your bags upstairs.”

  “No, I’ll take them. I can’t face Sam. I can’t face anybody. Please don’t let him see me.” And with that, she picked up one suitcase and, loaded down with it and the armful of clothes, she headed for the stairs. There was nothing for it but that I follow her with another heavy suitcase and one of the shopping bags filled with shoes. And make another trip for the rest of her things after getting her settled in Lloyd’s room.

  “Make yourself at home, LuAnne,” I said, holding my back after that last trip up the stairs. “The bathroom is right through there, and there’s plenty of room in the closet. Now, have you had supper?”

  “No, but I can’t eat,” she said, sitting on the side of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap. “I just want to go to bed and try to forget it all.”

  “That might be the best thing, but it’s barely seven o’clock and still light outside. You’ll be awake before sunup. Come on downstairs and sit with Sam and me.” As she started shaking her head, I went on. “You might as well face it now. You can’t avoid him for the next few days or when you ride with us to the beach. Come on, LuAnne. Let’s see some of that high head holding we’ve been talking about.”

  She managed a smile at that, but said, “I’m going to take a sleeping pill and sleep for twelve hours straight. That’s all I want to do—sleep for twelve hours and forget it all.”

  “Well, that’s understandable, I guess. But, LuAnne, did you talk to Leonard? Did you find out who the woman is?”

  She seemed to scrunch up into a ball, as the tears started again. “He wasn’t there. He’s with her, whoever she is.”

  I blinked, thinking that she was probably right. But I said, “Not necessarily. I expect he went out to get something to eat. Which means he’s already missing you. Now, listen, LuAnne,” I said in a bossy way because I knew she needed a firm hand, “I’m going to bring you something to eat, then you can crawl into bed and sleep as long as you like.”

  —

  The shower turned off just as I returned with a tuna-fish sandwich and a glass of iced tea. Placing the tray on a bedside table, I noticed a small bottle half full of pills beside the lamp. Take one for sleep, I read on the label and wondered if she’d already taken that one.

  When she came out of the bathroom, she was ready for bed in a long, cotton gown that looked as used as some of mine.

  “Oh, Julia, you shouldn’t have,” she said, eyeing the sandwich. “I’m just not hungry.”

  “I know, but try a little. You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”

  “Well, I’ll try, but not too much. It might keep the pill from working. Or maybe I should take another one after I eat, just in case.” Then she yawned, but managed to go on. “I just want to sleep and forget it all. These pictures keep running through my mind—you know, pictures of them together.”

  “Come on, get in bed. I’ll fix the pillows for you. You’re already half asleep now.” So I bustled around, turning off lights except the one by the bed, checking the bathroom, which she’d left in good order, smoothing the covers for her, urging one more bite of sandwich, then taking the tray from her lap.

  “Slide on down,” I said, removing some of the pillows. “I’ll leave you now, but if you need anything in the night, our room’s just across the hall, and I sleep on the far side of the bed.”

  “Thank you, Julia, for being so kind to me.” LuAnne yawned again as she curled up under the sheet and light blanket. “I’ll make it up to you. In the morning. I
know I’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “I know you will, too. Good night, LuAnne,” I said, switching off the lamp and palming the bottle of sleeping pills. “Sleep tight.”

  —

  I don’t know how long Sam and I had been asleep but the room was as black as pitch when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a hoarse whisper in my ear.

  “Julia, you asleep?”

  “What? What. LuAnne?” I sat up, disoriented and dazed. “Uh, no, I’m awake. What is it?”

  “I don’t want to wake Sam,” she said. “Come downstairs.”

  She eased out of the room as I, still half asleep, struggled into a robe and bedroom slippers. Following LuAnne down the stairs, I wondered if she’d been looking for more sleeping pills. The bottle was in my bathroom, safely hidden, where it was going to stay for the duration.

  She was pacing up and down the length of the library when I got there. One lamp was on, so I could see her robe swinging as she strode back and forth.

  “What’s wrong, LuAnne? You couldn’t sleep?”

  “No, I couldn’t. Not long enough, anyway. I’m going to get something stronger tomorrow. Today, I mean.”

  “What time is it, anyway?”

  She slewed around, her robe billowing out behind her. “I don’t know. Around three, I think.” She stopped in front of me. “I had the worst dream, Julia. I dreamed that she was in my bed with Leonard, and I can’t stand the thought that they’ve just been waiting for me to leave. I played right into their hands by packing up and leaving.”

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t think so.”

  “Well, whatever they think, it’s not going to work. I’m going up there, Julia, and I’m going to wait and see her come out. Then I’ll know who she is. You’ll go with me, won’t you? I mean, I might need a witness.”

  Witness to what? “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Why don’t you—”

  “Oh, I’m not going to do anything. I just want to see her with my own eyes. I won’t even get out of the car. We can park beside the front hedge and wait for her to come out. Nobody’ll know we’re there.”