P.J. was hoping for a Ram truck, or a jeep, or something more …manly.
Way to fuck up my mojo, Layla.
P.J. hoped that his new neighbor was not going to be some uptight, pain in the ass, who would give him a tough time. And to P.J.’s mind, anyone driving a hybrid car screamed trouble. He stood in the deep shadows of the front porch with his feet wide apart, his arms flexed and folded over his hard chest. P.J. narrowed his eyes as he watched the vehicle slow its speed to a hesitant crawl, pull over and park a few yards away from hi. When the car door opened P.J almost choked down the cigarette butt that was hanging from his mouth. Because the chick who walked out of that car was definitely not at all the uptight soccer mom that he had feared. Truth be told, P.J. wasn’t exactly sure what she was.
The moment that Juliet pulled up in front of the rental house a surge of relief came over her. The home was a heavily built structure. The large hewn logs and thick windows gave it a look of impenetrability. The cabin sat on the edge of a heavily wooded lot, and there were two huge pine trees that stood like sentries at the edge of the front yard. Their thickly gnarled roots poked through the brown grass and twisted like routes on a map leading home. Heavy cobblestoned steps led up to a sturdy porch. It ran the length of the house and was covered in pine needles. Best of all, there was a large swing that hung from four solid looking chains screwed into the porch roof. Its seat was covered with three faded, frayed, and lumpy cushions. As she stepped out of the car, Juliet was immediately struck by the cool, sharp, fresh air. Her first feeling was immediate and unmitigated joy.
This place was perfect, just what she needed and just what she had hoped for.
But then snap.
Of course, it was all too perfect to be true.
When Juliet saw the man step out from the shadows, looking all menacing and pissed off, she knew at once that she probably should have seriously reconsidered driving past those No Trespassing signs. Juliet’s GPS had been spotty, and she must have arrived at the wrong address. The owner of the property, the person who had promised to meet her, had been a woman.
And this guy, with his inked up arms, long, thick hair, herculean build, and menacing scowl was definitely all man.
“Sorry. I must have taken a wrong turn!” Juliet yelled out as she turned to go back into the car.
A deep masculine voice rang out to her. “You here to rent the cabin?”
P.J. moved across the porch and down the steps quickly. But he stopped several feet from her. He was not unaware of the intimidation factor of his looks, or the isolated location of the cabin. P.J. knew that he was not at all what she had expected. This chick with her crazy hair, skinny legs and long black hoodie looked more than a little freaked out.
“Everything’s cool. No worries, Layla’s a friend of mine, she got held up, but she’s on her way now. She asked me to meet you here. My name is P.J. McCabe.” He held out his hand in greeting.
After a slight hesitation, Juliet stuck out her own hand and felt it at once engulfed by P.J.’s man paw. Juliet was at once struck by a strange sensation. There was something about P.J.’s thoroughly masculine appearance that was solid…safe. She wanted to drink in his scent, put her head on his big shoulder, and rest.
Get a hold of yourself Juliet was mortified at her own thoughts. Because this absurdly intimate reaction she had to a man simply because he shook her hand? That showed just how tired she had become, how alone she felt. Definitely time to stop, gather her wits, and set herself straight.
P.J. mistook the look on Juliet’s face and withdrew his hand right away. “Did I hurt you? I don’t shake hands a lot with women. And these big mitts of mine? Sometimes they don’t know their own strength.” P.J. felt oddly embarrassed, a totally new feeling for him. “I don’t think Layla told me your name.”
“My name is Juliet. Juliet Jones.”
“Pretty.”
“What?” Juliet looked at P.J. McCabe like he was insane. And he didn’t blame her because honestly, pretty was not a word a guy might use to describe little Miss Jones. On a good day P.J. thought she might be passable. But today was not that day.
“Your name. I meant to say your name is pretty. From Romeo and Juliet, right?” P.J. said in way of explanation.
The green eyes that stared back at him so unflinchingly were tired. World weary in a disappointment-in-life kind of way. They were the color of summer ivy, flecked with gold, and fringed with thick dark lashes, but the brows above them were just one hair away from a uni-brow. Juliet’s ears were small and flat to her head but came to a small point at the top giving her the appearance of a fairy or a woodland sprite. The nails on her small, thin fingers were unpolished and bitten down to waning moons. She was skinny in an undernourished, unhealthy kind of way. Juliet’s skin was so pale that it reminded him of the underbelly of the fish he had caught last Sunday morning. Her clavicle bones were sharp enough to cut paper.
When Juliet had reached out to shake P.J.’s hand, a Hostess cupcake wrapper had fallen from the pocket of her hoodie.
But it was Juliet’s hair that really caught P.J.’s attention.
P.J. had always been partial to brunettes, and Juliet’s hair was a deep chestnut, with natural highlights of gold and copper.
At one point it must have been beautiful.
But now it looked as unhealthy as the rest of her.
It was without shine, and it capped Juliet’s head in a halo.
A bizarre, crazy, Halloween sort of halo.
The jagged, uneven locks stuck out from her head like thorns on a thistle. It was cut short in some places, longer in others, and had several small bald patches throughout.
Juliet had been pulling at her hair in what must have been painful tugs throughout their short conversation.
A series of short beeps drew their attention away from each other and towards the minivan that was careening down the dirt road. It came to a screeching halt in front of P.J. and Juliet while blowing up dust and gravel in its wake.
“Hi there! I was worried my directions weren’t clear enough. I’m glad to see you made it!”
A musical voice called out from the open window in the van. Then a very pretty, tall blonde jumped out of the vehicle. She wore her long hair in a side fishtail braid. The artfully woven mane draped over her right shoulder and sat enticingly just below the swollen curve of her full breast. Long, toned legs were covered in form fitting jeans, and were paired with a lacy white T-shirt. When she took off her aviator glasses, Layla’s eyes were the light blue of summer skies. She had a beautiful smile, the kind that welcomed people in and made them smile back.
She came at them quickly, silver bracelets jingling on her wrists.
“Sorry I’m late.” She smiled her apology at Juliet. “I’m Layla Dumond.”
And although, she was a head taller than Juliet, Layla still had to stand on her tippy toes to give P.J. a kiss on his scruffy cheek.
“You’re a doll, you know that.”
“And you gotta start cutting this shit out, I got things to do you know.” P.J. growled at her.
Layla put her hands on her well-shaped hips and cocked her head. When she did the swirls that hung from her ears danced merrily and twinkled in the sunlight. “Well, whatcha standing there wasting time for, big guy? You got somewhere to be? Go be there!”
P.J. shook his head at her in mock disgust. “Piece of fucking work,” he muttered under his breath. Then without sparing a glance at Juliet, P.J. turned on his heels and headed for his truck.
“Stop by the house on the way home, Reggie’s got some fresh catch sitting on ice for you.” Layla called out to him.
“Yeah? I’ll go check it out.” P.J. looked at Juliet then. “Don’t take any shit from this one, she may look like an angel, but make no mistake she bargains like the devil.”
Layla’s laugh rung out again as she waved him goodbye. “Thanks again, goof ball.”
Now Layla’s kind blue eyes moved over Juliet in a quick, keen asses
sment.
“Hey, you look familiar. I’ve seen you before. I know you, right?”
“What?” Juliet felt her mouth go dry.
“I mean like did you graduate from Port Harbor High? It’s been a while now, but you look kinda like a girl that was on the dance team with me?” Layla cocked her head and rocked back on her heels.
“Nope, no Port Harbor and definitely no dance club.” Juliet felt infinitely relieved. She’d take a member of the dance team over the wife of a serial killer any day of the week.
“It’ll come to me. Or not!” Layla laughed. Then she looped her arm through Juliet’s and led her straight through the door. “I think you are going to love the house! I’m afraid it’s all a little dated, and full disclosure, it hasn’t been given a thorough cleaning in a while. You may have to scrub a bit, but I’ll take off some of the rent for that, and there is a closet full of cleaning stuff. You’ll find the house cool in the summer and warm in the winter. There’s a nice fireplace in the main living space and a cord of wood is stacked around the side of the house if you’d like to use it, feel free. But no worries about the heat, everything has been updated…furnace…water heater…wiring. And of course, it comes furnished. There’s a satellite dish for cable television and a flat screen in the living room. You can get cell service and wi-fi out here, but both can be a little tricky at times. Are you okay with everything so far?” Layla took a deep breath then exhaled loudly, as if exhausted by her own exuberance.
Juliet listened to Layla with rapt attention and more than a little fascination. Her circle of friends had usually been more the staid, somewhat sober, intellectual type. Layla was about as far from staid and sober as one could get. She had a warm, whimsical way about her. Carefree might be the right word to describe what seemed to be Layla’s laissez-faire attitude. Layla’s looks were fresh and clean with her white blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. But it was her voice that Juliet liked most of all. She talked like someone who knew a wonderful secret and couldn’t wait to share. Layla’s words tumbled merrily like dancing water over smooth rocks.
“I can be a motor mouth, I know.” She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Reggie is after me all the time about the way I go on and on. But I always tell him that it’s better to get it all out in one fell swoop instead of beating around the bush! Okay, then! Let’s take a look at the house! After that I can show you the backyard. I’ll give you some time to check out things on your own, and then we can talk business!” Layla continued her chatter as she pushed a key into the deadbolt.
Juliet’s first impression was a sense of warmth and comfort. It was like the sturdy beams and heavy logs wrapped their arms around her and whispered welcome home. She could not help but release a long pent up sigh, to which Layla nodded knowingly and said, “I know, right?”
The room had an open floor plan typical of log homes. It smelled a little musty, and the windows had lost their shine. The heavy curtains sagged under a thick layer of dust and the Naugahyde couches were beginning to dry and crack. But the cushions were deep and inside the hearth of the field stone fireplace sat bright birch logs that were just waiting to crackle and spark. The whole kitchen looked like it had been used as a set for a 1960’s television show with its aqua and cream chrome table set, matching appliances and patterned linoleum tile. Hung on the knotty pine paneling was one of those crazy cat clocks with the swinging tail and roving eyes.
The upstairs area was large and filled with lots of natural light. There were two oval skylights embedded in the ceiling and a pair of large double pane windows. The queen sized bed was covered in white eyelet; its head and foot boards were made from a whimsical wrought iron bed frame. In the center of the room sat a huge colorful rug, while a white wicker settee and matching chairs were grouped together in a corner. Juliet walked over and perused the titles in the bookshelf. To her delight, she found a whole shelf dedicated to the delicious works of Mary Stewart’s Crystal Cave series. She could hardly wait to curl up with the tales of King Arthur and his knights while the rest of the world washed away like the rocks in the stream below.
On closer inspection everything was a little bedraggled and showed wear…the edges of the rug were frayed; the comforter had thinned in places, and the curtains were faded. The white wicker needed to be repainted and had splintered in places.
Juliet loved it.
Best of all there was a slider that led out to a small deck that sat in the treetops. It overlooked a large, wooded area and a quickly running stream. Beyond the ribbon of water, Juliet could see the windows of a cabin sitting on top of the next hill. She frowned slightly.
“Does anybody live there? Up in that cabin beyond the tree line?”
“Yes, that’s P.J.’s place. I know what you’re thinking, the views are so much better up on that hill. But if you’re looking for a quiet place…a soft place to land. This is it.”
“A soft place to land?”
“Yeah, you know a place to gather your wits, calm your spirit, free your soul. Your do-over place.”
“Do-over?” Juliet’s response was at once hopeful, yet dubious. “Thought those things were like… uh…urban legends.”
“Oh no.” Layla shook her head. “They are real, for sure. Never underestimate the power of the all mighty do-over. In fact, you’re looking at one.”
“One what?”
“A do-over. I’m a classic case.”
“How so?” Juliet leaned in, curious now.
Layla sat down on the settee and pointed to the chair opposite her. Once Juliet had sat down, Layla began her story.
“I was born and raised right here in this town. But, by the time I graduated high school I couldn’t wait to get away. I know it sounds all corny and cliched, but I wanted to see the world, have adventures, fall in love with some dark mysterious stranger who I met on a train. I had a spark lit inside of me that grew and grew until it raged like an inferno. So, I left. I made some bad decisions feeding that fire, then I made a few more. Finally, I had had enough. It was about a year later that I hitched a ride home on a Greyhound bus and arrived in town around midnight. I walked from the station to my parents’ house and slept on the front porch waiting for them to wake up. I was so excited to see them, but my father took one look at me, grabbed the morning newspaper, and shut the door.”
“That’s a little harsh.” Juliet mumbled.
“Harsh? Oh, I didn’t blame him one bit. The heartache I caused those two! They had been loving, generous, patient parents and I was their oldest daughter. Me running away to find myself had broken their hearts.” Then Layla added with a wink, “And we won’t even talk about the small matter of the court fees that I owed.”
“What did you do?”
“Oh, there was this little incident that may or may not have involved nudity on the beach… but it was midnight and we had been drinking.” Layla said brightly.
“No, I mean what did you do when your dad shut the door?”
“Oh, that! Well, nothing for a while. I didn’t know if I should get my stuff and go or swallow my pride and wait on that porch. But then I heard my mom and dad argue, my mom had started to cry. My dad could be a pain in the ass. He had been a cop, but he got shot on the job, and that was the end of that. However, that part of him never totally went away. So, yeah, he drew a hard line with my two brothers, my younger sister and me. But my mom was sweet as sugar, and on the rare occasion that she put her foot down my dad listened. I knew that I’d get in that house sooner or later. Then, before I could finish the warm diet coke I had in my backpack, my grandfather pulled into the driveway with his Ford Falcon convertible. In his hands were two coffees and a bagful of my absolute favorite donuts in the world... chocolate coconut.”
“Did your parents come out too?” Juliet asked, totally caught up in the story and hoping for a happy ending. “Did you have a big, tearful reconciliation?”
“No, not then.” Layla shook her head. “But I could hear my father pacing the floor inside,
and mom opened the curtain and blew me a kiss from the window. My grandpa and I sat together on the steps of that porch, eating donuts, drinking coffee and just talking. I came back here with him, to the family cabin. I stayed here until I got my act together. I took my time to collect my thoughts and reflect on the life lessons I had learned. I meditated, read, painted, and walked in the woods. It wasn’t long before my parents came around because they did truly love me… and love at its very best… forgives.”
“What happened then?” Juliet asked.
“When the job at the coffee shop came up, I took it. It was there that I saw Reggie again.” Layla continued. “He had been two years ahead of me in school and used to hang out with my brothers. I had always thought he was cute, but being the little sister and all, he didn’t really look at me that way. When I ran into him, he had just returned from the army…medical discharge. Anyway, we had both been through some tough times. Reggie much more than I, of course. But I guess we acted as sort of a balm to each other. One thing led to another, and here we are. Married nearly ten years, and I’m more in love with him today than ever before. Life has been good. Do-overs are a good thing if you are willing to take the chance.”
Juliet sighed and smiled slightly. She remained hopeful but unconvinced.
“You just wait and see.” Layla’s voice was kind and reassuring.
“I’d like to try to make this my do-over, I think.” Juliet said even as she fought the panic at the thought of settling down.
“Then the house is yours, Juliet, if you want it.”
Did she want it? Yeah, she sure as hell wanted it, but it was a feeling that was so much more than want.
It was need.
Juliet needed this do-over, this soft place to land.
Juliet needed this chance. Desperately.
Once the decision had been made Juliet had gone about the task of settling in. The cabin appeared to be a study in contrast. Sturdy and solid, yet warm and welcoming. The dark, velvety night sky was deep and endless and made her feel small. But the stars formed age old pictures and twinkled at each other with their boundless light. Juliet had never seen so many stars in a night sky before. Maybe she would start a new hobby and buy herself a telescope and book on constellations. The thought made her smile.
Becoming Juliet Page 5
