Someone Like You

by Victoria Bylin

  “Sorry. I have to take this.” She snatched up the phone and walked away. When the phone meowed a second time, the breeze muted the cat sound but not the angry thump of Julia’s steps.

  Zeke used the moment to check his own phone for messages. Nothing needed a quick reply, so he put it away and watched Julia pace along the railing, the phone to her ear and her thumb hooked in her back pocket. When she pivoted, he saw the furious slant of her brow. A client wouldn’t do that to her, but something personal might, like a Godzilla of a boyfriend. Because of the ringtone, Zeke dubbed the guy Catman.

  The wind calmed, and the flags stopped snapping in the breeze. Silence engulfed him until Julia hissed into the phone. “I told you. I’ll call you tonight. . . . Yes. School is important. I get it.”

  School. Zeke added Max’s father to the list of possible monsters blowing up Julia’s phone.

  She ended the call but lingered at the railing. When she returned to the bench, the emotion was stripped from her face. Zeke handed her the Styrofoam cup of Sprite.

  “Thanks.” She sat and took a long sip through the straw. “Sorry for the interruption.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look a little rattled.”

  She took another sip of the drink. “It was Max’s dad. We don’t always see eye to eye. Thanks for trying to help, but I don’t want to talk about him.”

  Neither did Zeke. In his opinion, Catman was a first-class jerk. “Then let’s talk about Tiff’s wedding.”

  Her fingers squeezed the edge of the bench, curling until they were bone white. “I wish I could do it, Zeke. I really do. It’s just—”

  “Don’t answer now.” Maybe beat a flat-out no any day of the week. “Think about it, okay?”

  “All right. I will.”

  six

  Julia spent the next day with Ashley. They visited an array of meeting rooms, discussed scheduling options, and considered different meal plans. The accounting department crunched some numbers, and Julia spent the evening in her room, working on the proposal for Mr. Carter.

  Zeke called once to check on her, but the conversation was all business. She didn’t see him again, but on the morning of her last day at Caliente Springs, a concierge delivered a package to her room. It held a check to cover the cost of the dress and shoes and an autographed picture of George Travers doffing a black cowboy hat. Zeke’s note read: It was great to see you again. Give my best to your mom. He signed it with a “Z” just like he used to sign notes in college.

  Julia thought about the job offer all the way home. She longed to say yes, but what about the impact on Hunter? He saw Max often and tried to be a good dad. She wanted to honor that desire, even if they disagreed on just about everything.

  The last miles slid by until she steered down the off-ramp leading to her mom’s house in a typical suburban neighborhood. At a red light she glanced at her phone. No messages. No calls. No word from Hunter since that awful argument on the pier. Julia didn’t regret a thing about that afternoon. Hunter needed to respect her boundaries, and telling Zeke about her faith had felt good. While talking about the past was awkward, it had to be done. If she took the job, she would tell Zeke about Hunter as soon as possible.

  Home at last, she pulled into her mother’s driveway. It was almost six o’clock, and she expected Max to be home from the zoo. Anticipating one of his hugs, she passed through the garage to the kitchen and set down her suitcase.

  “I’m home,” she called out.

  No answer.

  “Max?” Skimming her eyes over the empty sink and clean counters, she wondered if Max was still with Hunter. Annoyed, she plopped her purse on the table.

  Her mom breezed into the kitchen. Dressed in jeans and a tailored blouse, her brown hair dyed to hide the gray, and blessed with good skin, Ellen Dare looked closer to forty than to her real age of fifty-three. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  They hugged quick and tight. “Where’s Max?” Julia asked.

  “With Hunter. They’re still at the zoo.”

  Both women looked at the wall clock. Whenever Hunter took Max, Julia hammered down times and activities. Because of the fight on the phone, they hadn’t confirmed like they usually did. For all she knew, Hunter and Max were careening around Castaic Lake on that awful speedboat.

  “Did Hunter say when they’d be back?”

  “No, and I didn’t ask.” Ellen’s brows furrowed. “I thought you arranged the visit as usual.”

  Julia hated putting her mother in the middle. “We had a fight on the phone. I was meeting with Zeke and couldn’t talk. Hunter didn’t like that, and now he’s not speaking to me.”

  “I wish—” Ellen waved her hand as if shooing a fly. “Never mind. I was about to say something unkind.”

  “Well, I’m already thinking it. Hunter’s acting like a child.”

  “I wish this were simpler.”

  “Me too. But so far, we’ve worked things out.”

  And avoided court and custody issues. That was important to Julia. On his own, Hunter paid child support, which she tried not to need, and they arranged visits casually. So far, so good. But he was on his best behavior because he wanted her back, and Julia was trying hard not to antagonize him. A month in Caliente Springs would test their boundaries.

  Eager to unpack, she reached for her suitcase and turned to her mom. “Come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  With Ellen in her wake, Julia went to the old bedroom where she had cried over skinned knees and crushes on boys. Living at home again embarrassed her, but she was grateful for a place to heal. A little melancholy, she heaved the suitcase onto the bed, extracted the manila envelope holding George Travers’ picture, and handed it to her mom. “This is for you.”

  Ellen slid the cardboard out of the envelope, saw the photograph, and burst out laughing. “Where did you get this?”

  “George and Ginger Travers own Caliente Springs. George lives there. Zeke must have asked him for it.”

  Ellen looked down again, angled her head to read the autograph, and gasped. “I can’t believe this.”

  “What does it say?”

  “‘To Ellen Dare, Proverbs 3:5–6, Stay brave, George Travers.’” She looked up at Julia, a sheen bright in her hazel yes. “That’s my verse. How did he know?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Only a few people knew it, but the reference to the verse about trusting God and not one’s own understanding was tattooed on Ellen’s left shoulder, something she’d done in the throes of grief for her husband. What a terrible time that had been for them all—Ellen, Julia, and her older brother, Michael, a soldier stationed in Texas. Julia had offered to move back home, but her mother insisted she finish her senior year.

  Zeke had tried to comfort her, but she’d been put off by his glib talk of her dad being in a better place. “I don’t want to hear about eternity. I miss my dad now.”

  “I know you do, Jules. But heaven is a real place.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He had looked at her with those soulful eyes, kissed her forehead, and told her he would pray for her.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  She didn’t care about prayer at that moment. All she had wanted was to hear her father’s voice one more time. That was when Hunter started joking about Zeke the Meek. To her shame, she had joined in. A few days later, she went with Hunter for coffee, then dinner, all behind Zeke’s back.

  Remorse crawled up her neck like a slow-moving fire. If she had listened to Zeke back in college, her life would have been far simpler. On the other hand, she wouldn’t be the person she was now. And of course there was Max, the light of her life.

  “Julia?” Ellen was still waiting for an answer about George’s choice of Proverbs 3:5–6.

  “Maybe he just likes the verse.”

  A silly grin spread across Ellen’s face. “I used to
have a terrible crush on him, but then he took that bad turn.”

  The entire world knew the rest of the story. The Travers Twins broke up because of George’s drinking and drug use. Ginger never performed again, but he went solo and became a platinum success. Even so, he was more famous for his womanizing, car crashes, and two trips to the Betty Ford Center. That was all nine years ago. He was sober now and a Christian.

  Ellen slipped the picture back into the envelope. “This is a treasure. Thank you. And thank Zeke for me.”

  “I will.” Julia lifted the plastic bag holding her laundry. “So what do you think of the job offer?” They had discussed it earlier on the phone.

  Ellen sat on the bed. “I’m all for it. In fact, I talked to Winnie about it yesterday. She’d be glad to take over the shop for the next month.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but this is your decision.”

  Julia dumped the dirty clothes in a laundry basket, watching them tumble while she considered the possibility. “I’d have to talk to Hunter. I don’t think he’d like it.”

  “Probably not.”

  “I don’t want to rock the boat, you know?” She lifted the red dress out of the suitcase and held it up to inspect the skirt. Amusing memories of Zeke and Ladybug washed over her, but the dress was beyond repair. Sighing, she set it aside and lifted out the remaining clothes. “The bottom line is Max and what’s best for him.”

  “And what’s best for you.” Ellen’s chin lifted with defiance. “You’re young. You have the right to move on.”

  “Mom. Please. Don’t go there.” Julia wasn’t ready to date, not even someone like Zeke, who respected her and made her laugh. Avoiding her mother’s gaze, she zipped the empty suitcase.

  Ellen held up her hand as if taking a vow. “I won’t lecture, honey. I promise. Tell me about Zeke instead. I always did like him.”

  “I like him too,” Julia admitted. “But just as a friend, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not ready for a relationship. And there’s Max. How do I date without the risk of him becoming attached?”

  “You can’t,” Ellen admitted. “But if you don’t take a chance now and then, nothing will ever change. I miss your dad every day, but life goes on.”

  Julia’s gaze shifted to the photograph of her parents on her nightstand, the one taken at their twentieth high school reunion. She adored that picture. “I miss Dad.”

  “Me too.”

  Julia lifted her makeup bag out of the suitcase. “You know, if I have the right to move on, so do you. Dad would want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” Leaning back against the pillows, Ellen tucked her feet under her hips. “I have a good life. Not a single complaint—except for hot flashes and chin hairs. And those fifteen extra pounds. And while I’m at it—”

  Julia laughed. “How about the fact your daughter and grandson took over your house?”

  A few years ago, Ellen had converted Julia’s old bedroom into an office. Now her desk and filing cabinet were crammed into the master bedroom, Max’s toys were always underfoot, and last week he’d flushed a rubber whale down the toilet to watch it swim.

  Ellen smiled in that calm way Julia envied. “I’m glad you’re here and you know it. This house was too quiet before you came home.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “It was. That first year without your dad was awful.”

  “I remember.”

  There had been so many questions, so many painful decisions. How much life insurance was there? Did Ellen want to stay in the house? What did they do with Dad’s golf clubs? Only Julia liked the game, mostly because of the memories of lessons from her dad, but the clubs were too big for her. In the end, her brother sold them on eBay.

  Ellen turned to Julia. “I survived, and you’ll survive the trouble with Hunter. You just have to stay brave.”

  “And trust God.”

  “Lean on Him.” Ellen tapped the shoulder with her tattoo. “Trust in Him with all of your heart.”

  Julia’s soul fed on those words. When it came to being a Christian, she was a babe in the woods. All she could do was read her Bible, pray, and trust the God she didn’t fully understand.

  Her mom, who could read her like a book, waited a full minute before surrendering to the urge to give motherly advice. “Say yes to the job. Personally, a month at Caliente Springs sounds wonderful.”

  Julia thought so too, but she wasn’t ready to decide. Rather than debate, she gave her mom a smug smile. “You just want to meet George Travers.”

  Ellen laughed. “Sure. Why not?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Good grief. No.” Ellen held up the envelope with the photograph. “For one thing, he’s photoshopped. And I’m not.”

  “You look great.”

  “I’m past all that, but you’re not. A month at a resort could be just what you need for a fresh look at life.”

  Julia gnawed her lower lip. “It would be good for business.”

  “And for you.” Envelope in hand, Ellen pushed to her feet. “Are you hungry? I’ll fix you a sandwich.”

  “Let’s see what’s up with Max first.” Julia fired off a text to Hunter. How’s the zoo? ETA?

  His reply came immediately. Can’t talk. Later.

  It might as well have said Payback, because that was what he was doing—making her wait the way she had made him wait two days ago. She showed her mom the message.

  Ellen scowled at the screen. “He’s toying with you.”

  Tit for tat, that was Hunter.

  “I think I’ll work on the Carter proposal. If Hunter doesn’t answer before I’m done, I’ll call him.”

  The clothes dryer gave an obnoxious buzz. With the picture of George Travers in hand, Ellen headed for the door. “I need to hang that stuff up. But Julia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Think about Zeke’s offer.”

  Knowing the dryer would spin another five minutes, Ellen detoured to her bedroom. Julia was right about the room being crowded, but the physical clutter didn’t make Ellen’s heart stumble nearly as badly as the clutter of memories. The scent of Ben’s aftershave was long gone, but sometimes, like now, she inhaled and pretended to smell it. A few of his shirts still hung in the closet, and once in a while she wore one around the house.

  Her chest ached with the loneliness of someone who had been loved well but left behind. The sorrow never left completely, but she didn’t mind it all that much. It kept Ben close.

  Even now, as she set the photograph of George Travers on the dresser, she imagined Ben at her side, elbowing her and calling her a middle-aged fangirl. He didn’t go for country music at all. He’d been a Springsteen kind of man. Born to Run had been his personal anthem.

  “Where did the years ago?” she said out loud. And how many good ones did she have left? Julia was right. Ben would want her to marry again. She was young for a widow, but no one could replace Benjamin Maxwell Dare, not even George Travers.

  Ellen picked up a photo of Ben and kissed his face. The glass was cold beneath her lips, but she imagined being in his arms.

  Swallowing hard, she set the photograph back in its place of honor between formal portraits of their children. There were snapshots too. Pictures from Christmases, birthdays, and vacations. And of course there were photographs of her grandson. She loved Max to pieces, but she didn’t like Hunter at all.

  With her throat tight, Ellen looked back at Ben. “I wish you were here, honey. You’d know what our girl needs.”

  The face in the glass smiled at her.

  “She misses you. So do I. But I have a good life, thanks to you.” Life insurance mattered when a man died young. Ellen loved her kids, her grandson, and her home. And she still loved Ben.

  Feeling a bit superior, she slid the photograph of George Travers out of the envelope. He smiled up at her, a finger on the rim of his black hat. His eyes, dark blue and sultry, testified t
o his star power.

  Ellen wasn’t impressed. “Forget it, cowboy. My heart belongs to Benjamin Dare, and it always will.”

  seven

  Curled on the sofa with her laptop, Julia hit Send on the proposal recommending Caliente Springs to Carter Home Goods. Two hours had passed since she first sat down, and she was now furious with Hunter. Fed up, she snatched up her phone and texted him. Where are you?

  No answer.

  Maybe he was driving and couldn’t respond. Or maybe he was teasing her like a cat with a mouse. Churning inside, she strode to the living room window and separated the drapes. Dusk pressed against the glass, and the streetlights glared white through the trees. Every child on the block knew the rule: when the lights came on, it was time to go home. Her phone hadn’t chirped or meowed, but Julia checked it anyway, her imagination on fire with pictures of Hunter’s Lexus upside down with the wheels spinning.

  Unable to resist a minute longer, she called Hunter.

  One ring.

  Two rings.

  She lost count until a female voice told her the subscriber’s voice mail was full. Her hand shook as she ended the call. Hunter checked his voice mail all the time. Was someone else worried and leaving messages? If he’d been in a wreck with Max, would his parents call her? They hated her now.

  “Julia?”

  She spun around and saw her mom wearing an expression as tight as her own. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  Ellen twisted the switch on a hurricane lamp. Yellowish light hurled circles on the carpet and walls, intersecting to make arcs and ovals. “I’m concerned.”

  “Me too.”

  She turned back to the window, opaque now because of competition from the lamp. Instead of the street, she saw a movie of her fears play on the black glass, including the fear she refused to voice to anyone, even her mother. Hunter’s family was wealthy. If he wanted to take Max and disappear, he could do it as easily as he bought groceries.