Reviving Jules

by Peggy Trotter

  “At least passable,” Iva chimed in, “for a tragic affair.”

  Liza settled on the couch and set the child in her lap. “Hannah, your baby sister resembles you when you were a baby.”

  The room swam around Jules’ ears, and she excused herself to hurry to the bathroom. After shutting the door firmly, she settled on the side of the tub, her mind whirling. Hannah and Jason had kept baby Jillian throughout the funeral and still had her. Did that mean…oh, heavens. Were they going to keep her? She took small gasps of breaths. This child would become a grandchild of sorts to her? Oh, glory, oh, glory. She stood up and paced the enclosed room, laying her hand against her heart. It pounded like jackhammer.

  Dear God. Surely not. It wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t. She licked her dry lips, her breathing labored as she pivoted and walked. This baby, this love child between her ex and a colleague was to become Hannah’s first offspring? No, this couldn’t happen. God wouldn’t allow it. Would He? Not after everything that had already transpired.

  The vision of a small babe crying without anyone haunted her. It wasn’t poor Jillian’s fault this had happened. Oh, but I beg you, Lord, let someone else take the child. Not Hannah. Please not Hannah.

  A knock sounded at the door and Jules stiffened. How long had she been in here? She cleared her throat and tried to sound normal.

  “Yes?”

  “Mom? May I come in?” Hannah spoke in soft tones.

  Oh, gracious. In. To talk. Reluctantly, Jules turned the lock and stood face to face with Hannah.

  Her daughter entered and wiped her hands across her cheeks before turning to confront her mother.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering about Jillian.” She searched her mother’s features, no doubt to gauge a reaction. Jules stayed stoic, blocking Hannah from distinguishing her true feelings. But her daughter knew her too well. “We’ve been keeping her while they…”

  Hannah’s head bowed. When she glanced up, tears glistened in her eyes. “Mom, we want to adopt Jillian.”

  Jules stood like a stone. A rock formation. Had her heart stopped? Had her mind flatlined? Strangely enough, it hadn’t been too long ago she’d experienced very similar emotions. The day Darrell had told her he wanted a divorce. She tried to swallow, but a huge blockage impeded the muscle spasm. Had she blinked? Drawn a breath? She couldn’t remember.

  “Mom?” Hannah prompted with a tilt of her head. “Did you hear me?”

  Jules managed a nod.

  “I understand this’ll be hard on you. Jason and I’ve been talking round and round about it for days. And we keep coming back to the same decision. She’s my sister. I’m the closest family she has. Amanda’s mom is gone as”—she at least had the decency to pause here—“you know.”

  She took a step toward her mother. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  The immensity of the request made it sooo hard to breathe. Jules’ throat ached with unshed tears and bitterness. And what hurt the most was knowing Hannah was spot-on. Jules knew Amanda well. She’d been a close friend. Jules understood the woman’s family situation. Hadn’t Jules taken her under her wing when the young teacher had been newly hired at the school? An extreme wave of distaste quivered over Jules’ skin.

  “Mom, please say something.”

  Jules gazed Hannah full in the face. “What you and Jason do is your choice.” She took a breath, a gulp really. “I’ll try to come to terms with your decision. You must understand, Hannah, this may take some time. But as for now, I’m afraid I can’t say much else.”

  Tears flowed down Hannah’s face. Her dear, dear face. Goosebumps danced across Jules’ skin.

  “I have to know one thing, Mom. Can you accept Jillian? She’ll be your granddaughter if we adopt her. Could you accept her as part of our family?”

  I can do all things. I can do all things. I can do all things. God’s strength. God’s strength. Wait, wait, wait.

  “I will try.”

  * * *

  After a practically sleepless night with family members scattered on every possible sleeping surface available, she and Rhett were back in his truck, facing north. She’d shared an airbed with Liza, and Rhett had ended up on the living room couch. Jules rubbed sleep from her eyes once more, trying to stay awake. He had to be as wiped out as she was. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Rhett driving all alone. Talking might keep her from drifting off, and it’d help him also. She sighed. Rhett deserved an explanation of this whole mess.

  “You okay to drive?” she ventured, glancing toward him.

  He looked fine in jeans and an aqua polo. She’d noticed through her sleepy fog this morning how the shirt matched his eyes. Clenching her hands, she shifted her line of sight out her passenger window.

  “Yeah, I’m not too bad. You?”

  She could feel his scrutiny. One shoulder shrugged.

  “I meant sleep-wise, not how you feel overall.” He glanced back at her. “It was an interesting visit.”

  She gave a bitter laugh. “If by interesting you mean full of questions about every possible detail of my entire life then, yeah, way interesting.”

  “Well, families are like that aren’t they? But they’re there when you need them.”

  “I suppose. Mom and Liza are very close. They’ve always been. They’re very persnickety people who iron their sheets, napkins and underwear, and every canned good is numbered and has a particular place in the pantry.” She took a deep breath. “I tried to be that way. I probably succeeded for a while. But that just isn’t me. I hate to say it but, I really fly around by the seat of my pants.”

  A laugh sounded from Rhett. “Yes, I’ll agree. You’ve definitely got wings on those britches. How long has Woodard been on the scene?”

  Jules waved her hand in drama. “Oh, Mr. Suit? Since I turned sixteen. I believe the man sleeps in that get-up, tie and all.”

  “What’s your real father’s name?”

  “Jake Summers. So opposite of my stepfather. I told you he drives a truck. Very mechanical, a rough neck. He used to stop in from time to time and visit. He’s a bit like me. I guess I’m a chip off ole’ Pop’s block. He did call Hannah the other day to apologize for not being able to make the funeral.” Jules sighed. “I would’ve loved to have seen him.”

  They drove for a while in silence. The radio was off. Except for the monotonous road noise, the truck remained quiet. Rhett took a deep breath.

  “You knew Amanda.”

  “Yes.” Her throat tightened. She looked at her nails and clicked her thumbnails together. “She was my colleague at school. For two years. We were actually very good friends. Our rooms were side by side.”

  Her voice grew quivery so she stopped for a moment. She sipped her soda and replaced the lid.

  “Darrell had grown distant for some time before…” She swallowed and shrugged. Tears gathered. “I just put it off as an old couple thing. I convinced myself the aloofness was a natural occurrence. Hannah was grown, off doing her high school busyness, and we didn’t talk or spend time together as a couple. I found things to occupy myself, and he worked a lot.”

  A tear slid down her cheek, and she stared out the passenger window. Rhett reached into the back seat of the truck and brought out a box of tissues. After grabbing several, she tucked the container next to her.

  “Only he wasn’t really working. He had a good job as an accounting professor at a local college, and he’d been there long enough to work his way up to head of the department. When he stayed late, I assumed he’d picked up a few classes since they’d lost several instructors in his particular specialty.” She sniffed. “I really didn’t give it much thought, and I realized later how ignorant I became because there were signs all along that something wasn’t right.”

  Rhett reached over and gave her shoulder an encouraging rub. But it only brought more tears. She kept her head down for a moment, collecting herself.

  “I stayed at home, by myself, when he worked. Hannah was already married—she’d bee
n planning to marry Jason all during her senior year. I was cutting out an art project for my students when I remembered I’d left several items on my desk. I wrestled whether I had time to do it the next day before art, but I decided I’d just drive over and get them. So I did.”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The events of the day were so clear it was as if she were there once more. Pain raced through her as she re-lived it.

  Her voice shook as she continued. She stared glassy-eyed out the passenger window. “I didn’t even turn on the light in my classroom. I knew exactly where I’d left them–right on the edge of my desk. So I walked in. No one was about except Ben, the janitor, and I could hear his distant whistle. Ben always whistled. I went straight to my desk and grabbed the stack of papers, but caught someone talking in quiet mumbles.”

  Jules inhaled a deep breath and fixed her unseeing eyes on the air-conditioning vent. “Amanda and I had this storage-slash-office room between our classrooms, and we often took a shortcut through there to talk to one another. We had a desk in there, stacks of storage boxes, and one of my old couches so we could kick back and grade or whatever. The doors were situated right behind our desks. When I heard voices, my first thought was a couple of older kids had gone in to make use of the couch, although I’m not sure who could’ve known about that room.”

  She trembled and rubbed the goose bumps on her upper arms. “I remember pausing as my hand went to the doorknob. I rose on tip-toes to peek into the small opaque window in the door and noticed the light was off, and whoever it was appeared only semi-dressed. As I turned the doorknob I caught a familiar voice, and before I reached for the switch, I knew who it was.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Darrell?”

  Rhett’s voice jerked her from her trance. She nodded.

  “And Amanda?” He questioned.

  “Yes.” The word hissed from her lips as she bowed her head. “I drove home somehow, parked in the garage and sat in the car. I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t do anything. I don’t even think I could move. He arrived about an hour later and sat in the passenger seat to tell me he didn’t love me anymore. That he wanted to marry Amanda. She was carrying his child. Darrell. The same Darrell who’d said after Hannah was born, there’d be no more children. That same Darrell.” She shook her head and gritted her teeth. “Amanda was only twenty-six. Darrell was forty. And I was stupid.”

  She blew her nose, tired of crying about it.

  “You weren’t stupid, you were trusting,” Rhett said softly.

  “Yeah, well, I won’t be stupid or trusting anymore. Never will I put myself through that again. There will be no second marriage for me. I’m done with that. It’s just going to be me. Me and the Lord, that’s it.”

  The road created a rhythmic thumping, punctuated by her sighs. Rhett remained silent.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t dump all this on you, but you needed to know what happened. I appreciate you coming with me and fending off my mother and Lisa. You’ve been a huge help. You just can’t know.”

  “I understand what it’s like to lose someone, and I want you to know, Jules, that I’ll be here. This kind of thing takes a lot of time to heal, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  She harrumphed. “Can I tell you something horrible?” Her voice became louder and shriller. “I’ve visualized Darrell dying over and over. Isn’t that wonderful? Yes, sweet, little me. Me. I wished death on him numerous times. I was so hurt and angry I wanted to ring his neck myself. And now, he’s dead, and I wish somehow I could bring him back. He and Amanda.”

  A sob rose in her throat. She glanced around in surprise. They’d left the interstate and stopped in an overgrown parking lot of a closed gas station. Rhett put the truck in park and stared straight at her.

  “It just proves you really never meant any harm to them, Jules. I could tell you were in pain from the very moment my daughter brought me to you. That agony can take over your life, if you let it. Darrell made a lot of bad decisions. You could’ve been the one in that car. But you weren’t, and you can’t do anything about Darrell and Amanda now. That’s why it’s so important to stay close to God, no matter what. Let me pray with you Jules.” He reached for her hand. “Only the Lord can heal a broken heart.”

  Jules stared at him. He was right, of course. Hadn’t she been trying to grow closer to God, lean upon His strength and learn to wait? Darrell chose the wrong path. She didn’t want to do the same. As she bowed her head and listened to Rhett’s prayer. A peace entered her heart. Would it last? Oh, glory. Please last.

  * * *

  The next week proved such a trial. Library school started out with two new children who screamed and cried through the entire story time. Jules read her planned selections through the racket. She went back to work on Tuesday, and when she arrived home, she discovered a floor full of water. Her refrigerator had died.

  Then on Wednesday, she dropped a plate of food and found herself bawling in the middle of the diner, people hushed and overly helpful, wiping up mashed potatoes and roast beef. Thursday, she called her lawyer from Rhett’s house to learn Darrell’s death complicated the sale of their jointly-owned property. And she ended up dumping the whole kit and caboodle on Rhett, as if the poor guy hadn’t had enough to deal with.

  On Friday, three goldfish, bloated and pale, floated on top of the pond. Rhett, who’d arrived to mow her lawn, located her on the back porch, sobbing. He removed the poor creatures and buried them beyond the old garage. And then on Saturday, she woke up at 5:02. She did the only thing possible. She had a good cry on her pillow.

  By Sunday, she forced herself to attend church, swollen eyes and all, praying she could get through the service without tearing up. She waved at the Carsens in the balcony and hoped they wouldn’t join her. Thankfully, they did not. She slipped out the side door to avoid talking to either of them. Rhett was just too kind, and she’d taken advantage of him. It had to stop. She needed to stand on her own two feet.

  After a long walk, she showered again. It was just plain hot. How incredibly thankful she was for the air conditioner Rhett had brought. At least the main room stayed cool. She still hadn’t paid for that little item. Feeling refreshed, she squeezed the majority of the water from her wet hair, combed it through, tossed it behind her shoulders, and decided she would take a drive in the jeep. It’d help pass the day.

  After stopping and getting a fresh soda with a bit of cherry flavoring squirted in, she drove around the local lake and found an actual beach. Some folks swam in the dark water while others sun bathed on golden sand. Further down, people fished from the bank and several motored by in a boat. She cast her eyes toward the wooded area where tents sprawled across the hill.

  Jules pulled in under a shady tree and threw the gear shift into park. From behind her sunglasses, she people-watched for a time, sipped her drink, and reveled in the soft breeze that tossed her hair. Bible in her lap, she leisurely read through several chapters before she closed her eyes for a moment, leaning her head against the headrest.

  Her ears picked up an approaching vehicle, and she roused. The truck pulling in looked remarkably like Rhett’s. As it neared she could see, indeed, it was him with a few jumpy children in the back seat. They pulled in next to her. Great. So much for avoiding them.

  She sat up as the doors slammed and squealing girls battled one another with swim noodles. Andi bounded for the jeep. Jules removed her sunglasses to greet the girl.

  “This is Goldie, Jules. And this is Alexis. She’s in my class too. We’re gonna swim. You wanna come? You weren’t home ’cause we stopped. Look at my new goggles!”

  Jules smiled at all the information delivered with such speed and excitement. “It’s nice to meet you, Goldie and Alexis.”

  The two girls giggled, one with red hair and the other blonde.

  “Lookie, Daddy, Jules is here.” She clapped her hands with glee.

  Rhett came around the truck in long red swim shorts, a white ta
nk, and sporting mirrored sunglasses with an orange-yellow tint. Heffalumps and woozels. Could the man not have a bad hair day or a rebel zit on his face? Jules slid her sunglasses back on.

  “You girls go pick a spot on the beach, and I’ll try to convince Jules to join us.” The girls chattered and ran off to do his bidding, hot-footing it across the boiling sand. His wavy, thick hair, so needing a trim, caught the breeze and tumbled about. Gracious, he was a sight. She pulled her eyes from his muscled shoulders and watched the girls throw their towels down.

  “I tried to get to you at church, but I swear you snuck out the back door. You’re not avoiding us, are you?” He gave her a disarming smile and tilted his head. Jules swallowed. If he only knew.

  “No, of course not. You need a break from your troublesome neighbor sometimes,” she laughed.

  “I don’t consider you troublesome. Feisty, maybe.” That grin. “Listen, I was going to ask you a couple of things.”

  Good. Maybe she could do a favor for him for once. She always made use of his help with little return.

  “All right, shoot.”

  “How about swimming with us?”

  Yikes. Not that. Anything but that.

  “I…don’t own a suit.” She shrugged.

  “Well, as you can see,” he gestured to the other swimmers dressed in various attire, “that’s not a problem here.”

  His hand reached to grip the window of her jeep, and he assumed a relaxed stance. She bit her lip. It was plain everyone swam in anything. It was also plain she would not, could not, swim with him. Not at the beach or in a pool. Her brain raced. She had to come up with something better than childhood rhymes.

  “I need to grocery shop.”

  His eyebrow arched and humor pulled at his mouth. Oh, that wasn’t a very convincing excuse.

  “Why don’t you do that tomorrow? It’s Sunday, after all.”

  “Yeah, well, you know, with my dead fridge, I have to go pretty much every day.”

  He laughed. “Just come out and say you don’t care to swim, Jules.”