Reviving Jules

by Peggy Trotter

  She readied herself way ahead of schedule, but she wanted her hair to look nice. With her shaking hands, it’d take all day. She curled her tresses into a cascade of tiny curls, gathered part of them into a barrette, and let the rest tumble down her back.

  Then she drowned it in hairspray, and carefully clipped on her veil. After zipping the dress, she twirled in front of the full length mirror behind the door. She’d dropped quite a bit of weight since last year and wore four sizes smaller than usual. She had to admit, the gown was stunning.

  Applying makeup proved a challenge as her nerves jostled her hands. She’d forgotten how much there was to apply, since she’d only worn mascara for some time. When she finished, she surveyed her image in the mirror. She blinked and her eyes widened. Well, she didn’t look half bad, considering. Perhaps her updated appearance would grab Rhett’s attention. Snort. He might not recognize her. She looked like a different woman.

  Curious glances were thrown her way as she went to the front desk to inquire about her driver. Perhaps she should’ve left the veil off until she arrived at the chapel. Relieved someone else would drive the mountainous roads, she climbed in the backseat of the car and closed her eyes. She mouthed Scripture to herself to purge the fear from her heart. Not the fear of the cliffs but fear of what she was doing.

  The chapel appeared quaint. White, tall. Well manicured. Very picturesque. Located just outside of town with a minimum of traffic, the building did not provide a place to shepherd a flock. Its sole purpose was to join people together in holy matrimony. She swallowed. Like a business. Perfect. The chauffeur opened the door and a wave of nausea swept over her. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and returned to the driver’s side. She glanced around and let out a long, slow breath through pursed lips. Such a beautiful summer day for a wedding. Gulp. What was she doing? This is ludicrous. She spun, but the car had driven away.

  She inhaled, forced the tears down, tottered to the door which opened without her bidding by a sharp-looking man in a tuxedo. She walked in, attempting to smile while clutching her purse and her box of flowers. A woman directed her to a bride’s room, assuring her the groom awaited. Jules had her hands full trying to keep from letting out a hysterical laugh. If these folks only knew her marriage was a hoax.

  Misty, the woman who’d guided her to the bride’s room, came through the door after a compulsory knock and told her it was time. It was too late to flee the chapel, although she glanced towards the exit as the woman showed her the start mark and informed her to wait for the organ’s key notes.

  The chapel sales lady gave a little ditty about a video of their wedding available for purchase and, of course, pictures followed the ceremony. The whole shebang smacked a little mechanized. But she had no time to think as the organ started the bridal march, and she pushed her way through the double doors into the sanctuary.

  It was surreal. Her eyes searched the room. High ceiling. Small skinny pews. Fake pews. Rose petals strewn down aisle preceding her. Thrown by an imaginary flower girl? A bubble of panic rose up her windpipe.

  The minister stood on an elevated platform. To his right, Rhett looked drop-dead handsome in his navy tuxedo. Andi was next to him in the blue dress she and Jules had selected. Her hair was pulled back with a small blue bow on top of her head. And she remained still, beaming. Jules took a quivering breath and concentrated on walking gracefully to the music.

  Although the aisle wasn’t overly long, it seemed to take an eon to reach the end. She cut her gaze to the cross hanging at the roof’s peak near the ceiling, and her facial muscles relaxed. Rhett had made reservations at a Christian chapel. How thoughtful of him. She lowered her eyes and snagged his. Her glance caught him unawares, and before he could recover, he gaped. So, he noticed her extra care. She smiled as he held out his elbow for her to take, his eyes still on hers.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and man to unite these two in holy matrimony.”

  Was he speaking English? And who could the man be addressing? The faux church lay empty. She tried to calm her trembling and focus on his words.

  “Do you, Jules Brooklyn Summers, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer until death do you part?”

  Jules took a shaky breath. “I do.”

  “And do you, Rhett Wyatt Carsen, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer until death do you part?”

  His voice affirmed, clear and deep, yet huskier than normal. “I do.”

  “Matthew 19:6 says, ‘Therefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What, therefore, God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.’” The minister leaned toward Rhett. “The ring, please.”

  Rhett reached over to Andi who handed him a satin pillow where the two rings nestled. He presented them to the dour clergyman.

  “These two rings will serve as a token of Jules’ and Rhett’s love and devotion to one another. Jules, take this ring, put it on Rhett’s finger, and repeat after me. I, Jules, give this ring as a token of my love and devotion.”

  Jules did as she was told, only stumbling on the word, ‘love,’ and slid the ring onto Rhett’s finger.

  “Now, Rhett, take this ring and repeat after me. I, Rhett, give this ring as a token of my love and devotion.”

  Jules’ hand shook as he grasped it. Rhett steadied her before repeating the words, the ring gliding on her finger.

  The minister raised his hands toward Rhett and Jules and said, “By the power vested in me by the Lord God Almighty and the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Jules took a gasp of breath before she faced him. She looked him full in the face and saw his eyes darken as his head came to meet hers. Such a light, simple kiss. Then they turned to face the two witnesses in the front row.

  “May I present, Mr. and Mrs. Rhett Carsen.”

  Afterwards, they were whisked to another room to sign the marriage license and for pictures. Jules caught sight of a fresh bride at the starting mark through the doors before they closed. She struggled to smile and look natural, but the plain fact was she felt faint. She’d married someone who didn’t love her.

  But she tried to breathe and act normal, investing a lot of time with Andi. She was a pleasant safety net. Rhett glanced at her occasionally and asked if she was okay. She wanted to scream ‘no’ at the top of her lungs, but didn’t. Instead she smiled. Smiled, smiled, smiled.

  They spent another night at the hotel, sharing a room this time, Andi choosing to sleep with Jules. She tossed and turned long past midnight. It was a wonder Andi slept at all. Early the next morning, they loaded up the SUV, and Andi and Jules waited in the vehicle while Rhett took care of the bill.

  Jules examined her engagement ring and the shiny new silver wedding band. She turned it to catch the sunlight. It was a beautiful set. One worthy of a real marriage. Her eyes ached from unshed tears. No crying. She’d promised herself she was done with tears. This was to be her fresh start. A new life. Life could be good again. She had Andi to take care of, and a household to be responsible for. And she had library school. Everything would work out. It had to. Because it was too late for other options.

  The homecoming was muted. Exhaustion hung on them all, and the silence suited Jules’s mood. Even Andi’s usual exuberance was subdued. They brought the luggage inside and spread to the three directions of the house. Jules climbed the stairs to her rooms and went through the motions of organizing just to give herself something to do.

  When bedtime arrived, she crept downstairs to say goodnight. She found Andi asleep on the couch, propped on her daddy’s thigh and Rhett with his head back, eyes closed. The news program from the T.V. kept up a steady stream of noise. Well, so much for bidding everyone pleasant dreams.

  Most of the night, she lay awake. The unfamiliar room exuded strange noises. Lights sla
nted in strange patterns. She sighed. Sooner or later, she’d have to get used to it. After all, it was home now.

  She’d just dozed off when the alarm woke her. Where was she? Oh, yeah. She’d married Rhett. She had a real bed. And she had a husband to care for, which struck her as a paradoxical thought. She’d proved over and over who the helpless one was. And it wasn’t Rhett.

  She threw on some lounge pants and tank top and shuffled down the stairs. When she arrived in the kitchen doorway, Rhett sat at the bar sipping coffee and eating oatmeal. Obviously, he didn’t need her.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured over his mug. A Bible lay open in front of him.

  Her hair was a mess. She reached up and pushed the wild strays from her eyes. “Morning.”

  She sat on the stool on the end of the counter and laid her head on the cold granite.

  He studied her and gave a sunny smile. “You look ready to take on the world.”

  With a grunt, she expelled an impatient breath. “Hey, I just got up to see if you needed anything. I don’t need grief.”

  “And who could resist that sweet offer?” He grinned and elevated one eyebrow.

  She buried her face in her arms. The man could be infuriating.

  His chuckle came to her on the move, and he briefly stopped to pat her on the back.

  He whispered in her ear. “Go back to bed. I don’t need you to babysit me in the morning. I can take care of myself.”

  Without a word, she rose and disappeared up the stairs.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The days fell into a pattern. Rhett arose and went to work. Andi ended up in Jules’ bed, and they laughed and snuggled until late morning. Jules did a few household chores and planned dinner. Sometimes she took Andi to the park in the afternoon. Other times they swam, while on occasion, they shopped. In the evening, Rhett came home. They ate, had a little alone time, and then on to Andi’s bedtime routine. More often than not, Jules returned upstairs after tucking Andi in, and Rhett fell asleep on the couch.

  It seemed workable as long as Jules didn’t dwell on Rhett’s laughter, or let herself stare at his grin, or eyes, or hair. She forced her thoughts to something else when Rhett occupied them. One fact became glaringly obvious. She was more than infatuated with him. But she refused to think beyond that thought.

  Just as things settled, Hannah’s call came. She and Jason wanted to visit. It plagued Jules all day, but she waited for Andi’s bedtime to speak with Rhett privately. Jules clammed up through dinner, as nerves ate at her, yet Andi chattered away in oblivion. Other than a few puzzled glances from Rhett, she successfully completed dinner with a measure of normalcy.

  Jules read Andi a couple of books. However, she seemed more energetic than normal. She bounced her dolls on her bed and handed one to Jules, insisting she be ‘Midge.’ She acted out a shopping trip. Jules complied for a while before finally telling Andi it was lights-out time. Then she disappeared upstairs to pace, waiting for Andi to fall asleep.

  An hour later, Jules checked on the imp and found her out cold, hugging the dolls to herself. Jules carefully tip-toed out and eased the door shut. On to Rhett.

  When she arrived in the living room, the news yammered on as usual, and Rhett’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back against the couch. She crept forward. The man was so gorgeous. With a sleep-kissed face, his dark wavy hair in disarray, Jules hankered for the right to finger his locks. Black evening stubble covered his jaw, making him appear so rugged and masculine. His skin, browned by the sun, glowed from outside chores the last couple of evenings. His long limbs stretched out on the footstool, and even asleep, his body appeared lithe and athletic. She swallowed.

  His incredible blue eyes blinked open. Jules inhaled a sharp breath. He pulled those long legs from the ottoman and brought his hands up to rub his sleepy face as he sat up on the couch.

  “Andi asleep?” he mumbled.

  “Uh huh.” It was more of a sigh. “I need to talk to you.”

  She perched on the edge of the couch. It wouldn’t do to get too close. He took a long draw of breath before turning toward her. “Shoot.”

  “It’s Hannah and Jason. They want to stay with us for the weekend. This weekend.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Jules tilted her head and bugged her eyes at him. “Rhett. What about this whole real marriage thing?”

  Surely, even in his sleepy state, he had to realize how difficult this situation would be.

  He shrugged. “So we’ll move you into my bedroom for a couple of nights. We’ve got an air mattress. I’ll just sleep on that.”

  It wasn’t that simple.

  “Andi will not understand, Rhett. What’s going to come out of her mouth when we change rooms? And you’re not using the air mattress, I will. You work every day and have to have your rest.”

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “I think you’re worried for nothing. We’ll tell Andi it’s because we’re having company, and we need the extra room.”

  He pointed at her. “And I’ll be utilizing the air mattress.”

  For now, she let that go. There were bigger problems here. Jules visualized Hannah’s face when Andi blurted how she and Jason were sleeping on Jules’ new bed. She shook her head.

  “I just don’t like all this, Rhett. Maybe I should tell them not to come.” She turned round eyes to him.

  He gave that crooked smile and edged closer to her. He laid his hand on her shoulder and warmth cascaded through her.

  “Listen,” he stroked her arm to draw her attention, and she lifted her gaze, “this is not a breach of national security. It’s your daughter. You want to see her, right?”

  At her nod, he continued, “Then it’ll be fine. You knew this would happen sooner or later. It’s just happening sooner, that’s all. We’ll work it out.”

  Somehow, the soothing, assuring tone of his voice took the fight from her. She inhaled a deep breath. If only there wasn’t so much deception going on. If only.

  * * *

  Hannah, Jason, and Jillian came in late Friday night. Jules had been busy earlier in the week, ridding her room of her things and storing them in Rhett’s. She tried to pick out a few wall decorations to make the home look a little more lived in, but it still looked bare. It’d have to do. The other half of the time she coached Andi, trying to get her to understand and hopefully practice the concept of personal information. It would be difficult. Chatter flew from the child’s mouth.

  They gave Hannah and Jason the grand tour while Jules tried to ignore the infant. She grew impatient with herself for her avoidance. The beautiful child resembled Hannah at the same age. But it was difficult to get beyond the circumstances of her birth.

  Andi stayed up late and was thrilled with this privilege. But what really captivated her was Jillian. As the baby slept in her car seat, Andi knelt in front of her, gazing and stroking her soft skin. It twisted Jules’ heart on so many levels.

  Bedtime. She bid Hannah and Jason goodnight and walked with Rhett to his room. He casually laid his arm across her shoulders as the four of them strolled down the hall. Hannah and Jason climbed the stairs to the second story, and her heart rocked. Such a masquerade. Jules broke the embrace and hurried to check on Andi, needing a minute to collect herself. Why, why, why was this so hard?

  When she arrived in Rhett’s room, she closed the door and turned to him squatted on the floor, manually blowing up the mattress. “Why don’t you use the pump?”

  He paused and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to make that much noise.”

  He flipped the bed to unroll one corner.

  “Here, you’ll burst a lung.” She handed him the pump and grabbed her pillow and blankets from Rhett’s closet.

  “I’m fine.” He settled back on his haunches to stare at her. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting my bed things ready.”

  “If you think you’re sleeping on this mattress, you’ve got a
nother thing coming.”

  She crossed herself with her arms and bulled up. “Rhett Wyatt Carsen. You’re the ‘bread winner’”—she flicked her fingers in an air quote—“in this little charade, remember? Therefore, you need to get a good night’s sleep. So I’ll take the air mattress.”

  He stood. That couldn’t be good. She didn’t like having to look up at him. She whipped up a bit more attitude. “And that’s final.”

  His face grew still, and his eyes threw blue sparks. A shiver danced in her stomach.

  “Jules, this, ‘charade,’ as you so call it, has worked pretty well the last couple of weeks. We’ve plotted out certain roles for each of us. My role is ‘husband.’ And at the risk of pulling rank on you, I refuse to let my wife sleep on the floor when there’s a perfectly comfortable bed for her to sleep on.” He gestured to his chest. “I will sleep on the floor.”

  Although she recognized the dangerous undertones in the softly spoken sentence, she ignored it. “May I remind you that this has been my bedtime routine for several months? I actually lived through it.”

  She flung her arm above her head with flair, as if it had been a miracle. Her hands sweated as he approached and put both hands on her shoulders. Pulling air into her lungs proved a challenge when he brought his face near to hers. He rubbed her shoulders with his thumbs. The close proximity of his muscular form and the caresses threw her into a trance. Her treacherous body relaxed, and suddenly it wasn’t about the air mattress.

  “Jules…” His breath brushed her cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

  She could barely breathe as her eyes searched his expression. “It’s…not right.”

  “Then tell me another solution.” His voice was low.

  “We could both sleep in the bed.”

  His head angled and a brow elevated.

  She hastened to add, “It’s huge, and we’re adults. There’s no reason…not to.”