Someone Like You

by Victoria Bylin

  “Hold on.” She set down the phone and led Max to the automatic dryer. After two swipes of her hand, it roared to life. She picked up the phone again. “Sorry. We’re in the bathroom. The faucet went a little wild.”

  “Where are you, anyway?”

  “Just leaving the office.”

  “And you took our son to the ladies’ room? You baby him, Julia. He’s old enough to use the men’s room.”

  “He’s in a new place and it’s unfamiliar.” Did Hunter have to criticize everything she did? Apparently so.

  “Let me talk to him.”

  As if she didn’t have enough to juggle. “His hands are wet, and we need to leave. We’ll call you tonight.”

  Max turned to her, his face bright. “Is that Daddy?”

  “Yes, honey.” Julia ignored his still-wet hands. “We’ll call him after we take care of Grammie.”

  “I want to tell him about Zeke and the rocks.”

  Julia held her breath. Please, God. Strike Hunter deaf for that one word.

  Hunter chortled into her ear. “Did he say Zeke?”

  “Yes.”

  Hunter laughed even louder. “I haven’t heard that name since St. John’s. Zeke Monroe was a real wuss.”

  Julia couldn’t let the insult slide. “Well, he’s not a wuss now. He’s the general manager of Caliente Springs.” When silence crackled in her ear, she indulged in some gloating. For once, she had surprised Hunter. “I’ll call you later. We can make plans for the weekend after this one.”

  “I’m busy then.”

  Julia doubted it. As usual, he was manipulating the circumstances to his liking.

  “This weekend, babe. Plan for Saturday.”

  “Hunter, no.”

  The phone went dead in her ear. Shaking with anger, she leaned against the counter and massaged her temples. Across from her, Max waved his hands at the dryer. It roared to life and blasted hot air. What if Hunter showed up tomorrow instead of Saturday? The thought of him surprising Zeke sickened her. She needed to talk to Zeke now, at least briefly.

  Gripping Max’s hand, she headed back to the office. If she left Max at her desk, she could tell Zeke quickly with the promise of a full explanation later.

  She was almost at the door when her mom texted. At the cottage. Forgot my keys!

  Pulled in four directions—between her mom, Zeke, Hunter, and Max—Julia decided her mother needed her most.

  Gripping Max’s hand, she headed to her car, aware that Hunter hadn’t asked a single question about Ellen and her injuries. If that was how he treated people in need, what kind of father was he to Max?

  Not the kind she wanted.

  But what could she do about it? Hunter’s DNA trumped all her instincts to cut him out of her life. She could only hope God’s mercy, and especially his love, trumped Hunter’s DNA.

  fourteen

  On Friday afternoon Zeke pulled his SUV into the driveway of Julia’s cottage. Apparently IHOP did count as a date, because George’s Corvette was there. He was looking after Ellen and Max so Zeke and Julia could scout ceremony sites as planned. If Julia was up for it, they were also free to have dinner away from Caliente Springs.

  As Zeke braked to a halt, the cottage door opened and Julia stepped onto the brick path. Sunglasses in place, she cut across the lawn with a white sundress swishing around her tanned legs. A man couldn’t help but notice a pretty woman, and Zeke noticed.

  He climbed out of the car, intending to open the door for her, but she waved him off and climbed in on her own. The instant the door latched shut, she burst out laughing.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “My mom and George! They’re acting like teenagers. You should see the flowers he sent.”

  Zeke backed out of the driveway. “Knowing George, they’re over the top.”

  “Completely. He sent three dozen of the most perfect yellow roses I’ve ever seen. My mom knows flowers, and she’s impressed. Yellow might stand for friendship, but three dozen? That says something else entirely.”

  “George doesn’t hold back.”

  “No, and I like that about him.” Julia pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. “You know that sports saying ‘Go big or go home’? That reminds me of George, and it’s what we have to do for Tiff’s wedding.”

  “Especially the big part.” Zeke turned right at the gate. “The number of guests is going to limit the options for the ceremony site. What’s the RSVP count?”

  “I spent the morning making calls to the people who haven’t responded yet. Counting guests and plus-ones, we have three hundred and seventy yes’s, forty no’s, and thirty-eight people who are still deciding.”

  Zeke did some quick arithmetic. “If we plan for four hundred and fifty guests, we should be safe.”

  “I think so too.” Julia reached into the portfolio she carried everywhere and took out a notepad. “Which site are we visiting first?”

  “Golden Point.”

  While Zeke drove, they chatted about wedding plans. A quarter mile past the stable, he turned right on a road that sloped uphill and ended in a round parking area. An arrow-shaped sign marked the spot as Golden Point and pointed to a dirt path.

  Julia studied the ground with a critical eye. “I don’t think Aunt Edith will be up for off-roading in her wheelchair.”

  “We can take her in a golf cart,” Zeke offered.

  “Maybe.”

  They walked down the path, each commenting on the pros and cons of the site, mostly the cons. When they reached the concrete pad, Zeke assessed the size while Julia eyeballed the chipped brown paint on the metal rails. Together they stepped to the edge and took in the tranquil view.

  Zeke nodded toward the mountains just east of the resort. “When the sun hits at a certain angle, the minerals in the rock catch the light and shimmer gold. It really is beautiful.”

  Julia let out a sigh. “The sunset won’t matter if we can’t seat four hundred and fifty people up here.”

  “No. It won’t.”

  She paced off the concrete pad in both directions, measuring with her own steps. “It’ll be tight. But even if the chairs fit, we’re forty yards from the parking area. That’s a long walk in high heels on a rocky dirt path.”

  Zeke thought a minute. “It’s not in the budget, but we could consider laying down asphalt.”

  “Just for Tiff?” Julia shook her head. “That’s too much to ask.”

  “Not if the investment pays off. If this wedding leads to several others, the benefit will outweigh the cost.”

  “You have a point.” Julia glanced again at the view. “But it’s a big project and time’s running out. Let’s check out the other sites. What’s next?”

  “That little lake I told you about.”

  Ten minutes later, Zeke turned down a narrow road marked by two stone pillars and a sign that said Diddly Down Lake.

  “It’s named after George and Ginger’s first big hit,” he explained.

  “Cute.” Julia perked up. “So far, so good.”

  The SUV’s tires crunched on old gravel. “We use the lake to irrigate the golf course. The oak trees are nice, and the ground is level. Those are both pluses.”

  “Is it romantic?” Julia peered ahead through the windshield. “We need a spot that’s sigh-worthy.”

  “You’ll have to be the judge of that.” Zeke was far more concerned with logistics and safety for a big crowd, especially when the SUV bounced in a pothole. “The parking lot is a decent size. Big enough for vans from the hotel and limos for the family, but it’s in pretty bad shape.”

  Julia was already eyeballing the lake. “No one will care about the parking lot. Let’s check out the view.”

  Side-by-side, they walked along a path littered with twigs and debris. Zeke swept at the mess with his foot and sent a dozen acorns skittering in the dirt. “The grounds crew can sweep this all up and put down some DG.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Decomposed granite. It’
ll give us an even surface.”

  Julia looked up into the branches. “The shade is nice. And I like the symbolism of old trees.”

  They passed out from under the canopy and stepped into the sun. The lake, more of a pond because of the drought, reflected the sky and clouds. Julia studied it with a practiced eye. “It’s pretty but not stunning. We would need to do something special . . . something crazy.” She spun to him. “I’ve got it.”

  “What?”

  “Swans!”

  “Swans?”

  “If we put a hundred of them on the lake, it’ll be unforgettable.”

  Zeke scratched under his chin. “I’ll call Rent-A-Swan right away. Seriously, where do you get a hundred swans?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But what do you think of adding two black ones? They’d symbolize Tiff and Derek, and people could look for them. It would give them something to chat about. I really like this idea.”

  Zeke’s mind was stuck on finding the swans, not to mention the problem of wildlife regulations, feeding a hundred swans, re-catching a hundred swans, and generally putting up with a hundred swans. He couldn’t imagine what they’d do to the golf course.

  He dragged his hand over the back of his neck. “Swan wrangling isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

  “Mine either. But I love the whole idea. Could we check it out?”

  Her sweet smile undid whatever doubts he had. For Julia and Caliente Springs, he’d put on his superhero cape and take on swans, bureaucracy, and anything else in the way. “I’ll make some calls.”

  She faced the lake and closed her eyes. “I can see it perfectly. A flock of swans. Or a bevy. Whatever they’re called. The sun reflected on the water.” She inhaled deeply. “The smell of grass and—” Her eyes popped open. “Oh no.” She sniffed the air like a deer scenting danger.

  “What?” Zeke sniffed too. “Oh.”

  They turned to each other and spoke at the same time. “Skunk!”

  Julia pinched her nose. “Ew.”

  “No kidding.” Zeke’s eyes were watering like faucets. “There must be a den nearby.”

  When he pressed his hand to his face, Julia burst out laughing. “Can’t you just see it? Derek standing by the lake in his tux. Tiff coming through the trees in her beautiful white gown . . . and the guests all sitting here with handkerchiefs to their noses.”

  Zeke cringed and laughed at the same time. “We can forget Diddly Down Lake.”

  Gripping her hand, he led her back down the path strewn with acorns that rolled like marbles. Slipping and sliding, they grabbed each other like circus clowns and laughed even harder. When they reached the safety of the parking lot, he put his hand on the small of her back. For a moment they studied each other and the laughter faded.

  With her fingers laced behind her back, she blinked twice, then glanced down and to the side. He knew that look. She was working up the courage to say something, but apparently she changed her mind, because she simply exhaled.

  “Let’s check out the last spot. It’s the garden by the main building, isn’t it?” she said.

  “I have another idea.”

  “Good, because we could use one.”

  “It’s not about the wedding,” he said. “Let’s go for a drive. We can have dinner together.”

  Julia was determined to have the Oh, by the way talk tonight, and a coffee shop with bright lights struck her as the best place for it. After all the talk of Tiff’s wedding, the swan idea, and giggling about skunk smells, she needed a dose of reality.

  She reached for her phone. “I’d like that a lot, but I need to check with my mom and George.”

  “He’s fine with it.”

  She took a moment to process what Zeke had said. “Oh, I get it now.”

  “What?”

  “George paid you to kidnap me so he can flirt with my mom.”

  “You figured it out,” Zeke teased as he helped her into the SUV. “Ellen better watch out, because you know George’s reputation. He’s up to no good.”

  “For my mom’s sake, I hope so.” Julia wasn’t free to enjoy a romance of her own right now, but Ellen was. Go for it, Mom!

  While Zeke drove toward the coast, they chatted about everything from the wedding to his golf lessons and the unrelenting drought. As they approached the town of Pismo Beach, she expected him to ask her about dinner, but instead he drove down a narrow road that ended at a parking booth. He paid the attendant, rounded a curve that ended at the sand, and stopped to take a tire gauge out of the glove box. Unless there was a Denny’s down the beach, they weren’t going to a coffee shop.

  She glanced quizzically at the gauge. “What are you doing?”

  “Letting air out of the tires.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  While Zeke circled the SUV, crouching by each tire, Julia peered down the beach littered with vehicles. A sign told her this was part of the famous Pismo Beach recreational vehicle park.

  Zeke climbed back in the car. “Here we go.” Pressing the accelerator, he launched the SUV onto the sand. Not fast, but the slip and slide of the tires made her feel like they were dancing.

  Moving with the rhythm, she turned to Zeke. “You surprised me.”

  “Good.”

  “Why did you let the air out?”

  “It helps with traction. We’ll have to stop to put in air before we hit the highway home, but it’s worth it.”

  Julia wasn’t so sure. For the Oh, by the way conversation, she would have far preferred the harsh glare of overhead lights to the romantic glow of a sunset.

  “So,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, “is there a taco stand around here somewhere?”

  “No taco stand. I have firewood and a picnic basket in back.” He glanced at her shoulders, bare in the sundress. “And a couple of hoodies.”

  “So you planned this.”

  “Yes.” He kept his eyes straight ahead. “We went on a few picnics back in Berkeley. I thought you’d enjoy the spot I have in mind.”

  They rode down the beach in silence, her fingers knotted on the seat belt strap. Zeke finally backed up onto dry sand and parked.

  In five minutes, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder on a Mexican blanket, their knees up and toes buried in the sand. The fire was laid and ready to light. The picnic basket was behind them, unopened except for the can of Sprite in her hand and the bottle of water in his. In front of them, the waves washed up and down the shore, a backbeat to the hoarse squawking of the seagulls.

  Neither of them spoke. It wasn’t the least bit awkward, but the Oh, by the way speech was about to change everything.

  Julia took a breath, let it out, and eased an inch away from him. “I want to tell you about Max’s dad.”

  Zeke had planned a picnic for this very reason. Julia needed both privacy and the promise of no interruptions when she told her story.

  The sun sat on the horizon, an orange ball shimmering against turquoise sky and blue-gray water. Focusing on the distant swells, Julia raised her chin like a prisoner about to walk the plank in a pirate movie. Whatever she had to say couldn’t be that bad. Single motherhood was practically the norm now. But a shiver ran through her, either from the faint chill in the breeze or something dark and internal.

  Zeke pulled matches out of his shirt pocket. “I’ll light the fire. You talk.”

  Shifting his weight, he knelt in front of the pile of wood and struck a match. The kindling caught fast. Flames shot from the bottom and licked the bigger pieces of construction scraps and split pine. A minute later, Julia still hadn’t spoken, but the fire was burning strong enough for Zeke to sit back down.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. “When my dad died, it was awful. You probably remember how hard it was for me.”

  “I remember everything.” Her tears dampening his shirt. How he had pushed heaven at her. The fights that came later.

  “You were good to me, Zeke. But I lashed out at you.
I was confused—”

  “And hurting.”

  “Yes, but that’s no excuse for the way I behaved.”

  He didn’t see the tie to Max’s dad, only his own failings. When Julia had needed a shoulder to cry on, instead of listening, Zeke sledgehammered her with his faith. He was so sure of himself back then, Mr. Perfect Christian who knew the rules but couldn’t keep them.

  Next to him the fire burned brighter as the sun dropped lower. A stream of smoke poured off a log, filling his nose with the pungent scent of change.

  “It was a rough time for me.” Julia dug her toes deeper into the sand, curling them so that two little mountains bulged. “I didn’t realize it then, but it was easier to be mad at you than to admit how helpless I felt.”

  “I get it. Sometimes life stinks.”

  “But still—”

  “Jules, go easy on yourself.” He wished he could take his own advice, but he thought of the boxes in the garage and heard his dad’s voice telling him to try harder, do more, be better. “What happened is in the past.”

  “Well, not exactly.”

  “I’m confused.”

  She looked him square in the eye. “Do you remember Hunter Adams?”

  “Of course.”

  Hunter Adams had been a thorn in Zeke’s side, and that was putting it mildly. As hard as Zeke had tried back then to turn the other cheek, Hunter Adams was the one human being who got thoroughly under his skin. Homeless guys who reeked of sweat and booze? No problem. Low-end hookers with haughty eyes? No problem. But if you put someone like Hunter in his path, an arrogant jerk who looked down on everyone, Zeke wasn’t so sure about turning the other cheek.

  It didn’t help that Hunter had ridiculed him mercilessly with those silly nicknames. There had been a peculiar, even twisted, rivalry between them, one that tested every ounce of Zeke’s Christian charity until Hunter bad-mouthed a client. When Zeke corrected him, Hunter had goaded him into an embarrassing shouting match. Another defeat for a man determined to control his feelings and turn the other cheek.

  Why would Julia bring up Hunter now? A chill of premonition shivered down his spine. Steeling himself, he turned his head in her direction.