13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“W elcome home!” Grandma Rosa shouted.
Jules dropped her bags at the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. No hiding now. She’d have to own what she’d done to the one person she cared the most. Turning into the kitchen, she let out the breath she’d been holding. The space was warm and cozy. It smelled of delicious bread baking in the oven and fresh coffee her grandma must have just put on. The well-loved table spilled over with newspapers, as usual. For a brief second, it felt like she had stepped back in time to her childhood, where nothing could hurt her and she didn’t have to make big, life-altering decisions.
Looking up from her crossword puzzle, Grandma Rosa opened her arms for a hug and Jules relaxed. This was her grandma after all, the woman who raised her and was perpetually proud. Even if she didn’t say it that often. Which was exactly the reason Jules didn’t want to let her down. Although Rosa never understood what Jules did in D.C., she was the first to tell someone that her granddaughter worked a big fancy job in our Capital city. Nerves still pulsed through her veins, and she felt lightheaded as she took a seat.
“So how was the trip? Get everything done that you needed to?” Grandma Rosa asked.
“The hearing went well. No issues there.” Jules avoided eye contact, but her grandma wouldn't let it go that easy, Jules knew.
Setting her crossword puzzle aside, Rosa stretched her hand across the table to Jules.
“Go on…”
“Umm,” Jules fumbled, trying to find the right words. “Other things didn’t go exactly as planned. I found out my boss is sleeping with the secretary, I saw Luke, and I quit my job,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers.
After a beat, she faced her grandma, trying to hold her head high.
“But I’m good. It was the right thing to do. Now I have closure.”
For a second, Rosa said nothing, just held Jules’ gaze as if assessing whether or not to believe her.
“Wonderful. That’s that, then. You can get on with the rest of your life now,” she said in a serious tone, nodding her head.
“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me I made a mistake? That I’m throwing away my career?”
“No, I will not say that because it’s not true. I’m proud of you. You made the right decision for what you need now. Rarely are the right decisions the easy ones.”
Jules hung her head, looking into her lap. She didn’t know what to say.
“You’re not your mother, Jules. I know you’ve always feared being like her, but you’re not. You will figure this out. It will be good. You will be good,” she said as she squeezed Jules’ hand. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
“You always are. Thank you,” Jules replied, smiling now. “And I hope you mean it because you might be stuck with me a little longer than we thought."
“I’d love that more than anything.”
“Now tell me what’s baking in the oven?”
And just like that, the conversation was over. The only thing Jules had to worry about now was the rest of her life, like her grandma had said.
Later that night, Val came over for dinner and card games. Jules helped her grandma make chicken piccata to serve with the fresh focaccia she had baked. Although she was hanging out with two women in their eighties, Jules enjoyed the night immensely. These women were a tad vulgar and loved to give each other a hard time, all out of love, though.
Within the first half an hour of Val’s visit, Jules’ stomach ached from all the laughing. At one point or another throughout the visit, Jules heard multiple insults hurled from one another like, “Stop being such a blunderbuss, you ole clack-box,” and “Get out of my way, Miss Fussbudget.” Jules had no idea what they meant, but she loved how their insults were both quaint and offensive at the same time.
Later, they made their way to the living room to play gin rummy around the old metal folding table Rosa always had in the corner for nights like these. Both Val and Rosa were notorious cheats, but they enjoyed playing whenever they could.
After a few rounds, Val blurted out, “Now tell me about that boy who helped you drop off the food for the ladies at The Landing the other night.”
Jules should have known this question would come up. She’d been trying not to think about him since she’d gotten back to Riverbend. His silence had disappointed part of her, but she didn’t blame him after she’d just walked out on him the other day. It was for the best, anyway.
“There’s nothing to tell, really. He’s an old friend.”
“Oh, honey, we all know the history. Are you two back together?” Val asked, not skirting around the bush.
“No, we’re not. I have too much to figure out without the complication of a relationship right now. Plus, there’s a reason we didn’t work out the first time,” Jules answered, sure of herself.
“That’s too bad, he’s a looker."
Jules laughed, if she only knew.
"But, curious, what do you have to figure out?”
Jules filled Val in on her recent decisions, while Rosa nodded, chiming in about how strong and independent Jules has always been. It felt good to share without fear of judgment. Jules would have to learn to own this decision, and tonight was helping.
Out of nowhere, Val slapped her cards down on the table, accidentally showing her hand.
“I have an idea!” she shouted. “Since you’ll have more free time and I assume you’ll be around for a little longer, why don’t you cook for the ladies a few nights a week at The Landing? We’ll pay you, of course! And you can use the big commercial kitchen and all!”
“That’s a wonderful suggestion,” Grandma Rosa said in shared excitement.
Jules thought about it and shrugged her shoulders. Why not? It’s not like her grandma needed her here every night. She was doing just fine on her own. Plus, it would be nice to keep cooking and stretching her skills. It was the only thing that gave her a sense of accomplishment lately. She could use more of that in her life right now. It would give her an opportunity to make more of her grandma’s recipes with access to a fully stocked and large kitchen at her disposal.
“Ok, sure. When do I start?” she asked.
“How about tomorrow?”
“How about Monday?” Jules replied. Tomorrow, Jules would be at the celebration ‘party’ Winnie was planning, and she didn’t want to make her reschedule.
“Done,” said Val before they got back to playing their card game.
Although Jules didn’t win a single hand all night, she loved seeing her grandma having fun. It had been years since she’d heard Rosa laugh with her whole body. It was the way her grandpa used to make her laugh with his silly, and often terrible, jokes, and tonight she heard it several times.
Even with the looming unknown hanging over her head, Jules knew she had a strong support system that wouldn’t let her fail. She vowed to never let them down, either. A warm sensation spread through her chest as she recounted the evening later that night, lying in bed, just before dozing off. The peace didn’t last; recollections of Miles singing to her plagued her dreams all night long.
***
Before the party on Sunday night, Jules agreed to join Winnie at the dress rehearsal of Our Town at the high school. It would be the first time the students rehearsed the play start to finish, costumes and all. When Winnie called Jules to ask for her help, she reeked of nervous energy. To be fair, it was the first time she’d directed a school play, and she didn’t exactly know what she was doing. Not that Jules had any more experience either, but she was happy to be there for her in any way she could. While Jules got ready, throwing on a pair of jeans and a flowy top she could wear to the party later, she received a text message from Miles.
Remember this place? Heard you’re back. Hope the trip went well.
Attached to the message was a picture of the eighth hole on Riverbend’s only golf course, Old Elm Club. Of course, she knew the place. It was the same golf course Miles had worked at the summer of their junior year, along with several other odd jobs. And hole eight had a special history with them.
Jules remembered the first time they snuck onto it. It was a warm, dewy summer night with not a single cloud overhead. He’d picked her up at her grandparents' just before sunset and drove the backroads to the staff entrance off the main road.
He parked behind the large dumpsters at the edge of the lot and led her to the back door of the white shiplap club house, where he took out the set of keys the owners gave him to lock up at night and used them to open the door, tilting his head to her with a conspiratorial smile. She remembered smacking his shoulder, whispering that they could get caught. He just waved her off and told her they had to live a little.
After they’d plundered the kitchen for leftover sandwich bread, cheese, and some pasta, they hiked through the course to hole eight, where Miles had left a blanket in the woods earlier that day. He’d planned it all out.
Hole eight was the most difficult and private hole on the entire course. Surrounded by walls of tall pine trees on three sides, the hole opened to a shallow pond just below the hill it sat on. It was the perfect spot for a picnic dinner beneath the stars without anyone spotting them. And so that’s what they did, as often as they could the summer before their senior year. It was where they lost their virginities together on the checkered blanket Miles kept in the back of the car he borrowed from his cousin. It became their spot, one of the only places they could be alone together.
Jules stared at the phone screen for a minute, heart hammering in her chest. She owed Miles an explanation, she knew that. And his text meant he was testing the waters, likely wondering if their time together had come to an end, again.
Jules didn’t know how to respond. They weren’t together now, but they weren’t just “friends” either. If she was going to give herself the time and space to figure out what she wanted out of life next, it meant being honest not only with herself, but with the people in her life, which now included Miles. She typed out a brief text and hit send.
Hey. It went well, thanks. Can you meet me at the high school at 3 p.m.? There’s something I want to talk to you about. Thanks.
It sounded ominous, but she did not want to have this conversation via text. They were adults now. It should be done face-to-face. Plus, he needed to know she meant it when she told him she wanted to be friends, even if he couldn’t or wouldn’t do that.
Miles responded with a thumbs-up.
Pulling into the parking lot just before three o’clock, she spotted Miles’ convertible already parked in the staff section with his golf clubs still poking out of the backseat, waiting. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt, his skin a tanned gold that made his green eyes stand out even more in the bright sun of midday. Her heart fluttered at the sight as she slid into the spot next to him and climbed out and into his passenger seat. She was more nervous than she expected.
“Hey. How was your round of golf?” she asked as casually as she could.
“Fine. It was a good day for it.” Then he turned toward her and asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
Ok, so no easing into it , Jules thought to herself. It’s better this way.
“Well, I know I haven’t told you much about my personal life and that’s because it’s kind of been up in the air,” she said, not intending to be so vague. “But after my trip back to D.C., I realized I…I don’t know…” She paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know what I want.”
Miles said nothing, just held her gaze. He was going to let her say whatever she needed to.
“While I was back in D.C., I quit my job, and I don’t know what comes next. But I need to figure it out. Everything feels so…uncertain right now.”
She looked at her hands clasped in her lap and continued, “Seeing you again was unexpected and wonderful, but I think it’s best if we keep things simple for now, just friends. I can’t handle much more, which is why I left in a rush the other day.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Miles still didn’t respond, as if processing her words.
“I’ll understand if that’s not what you want, but it would mean a lot to me if we could try. You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to lose you, again,” she said, words running together.
She hated how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t imagine going back to the way it was before, when they didn’t know each other anymore. And now, sharing the same space, it was hard to remain resolute in her decision. More than anything, she wanted to lean over the center console and kiss him hard, run her fingers through his tousled hair. She wanted his soft, warm lips to close around hers as he caressed the side of her face like he always did.
His silence punctuated the air between them. Jules held her breath, waiting for his response.
“You mean a lot to me, too. You always have, Jules. Every day since prom, I have regretted letting you go and not fighting harder for us. But at the time, I thought it was for the best, though it’s haunted me. I’ve missed having you in my life. So, if friendship is all you can offer, I can try.” Miles paused. “Although, I have plenty of those already,” he added with a smirk, dissolving the taut tension, although Jules could see the disappointment in the way he kept his body rigid.
“Could you take on one more, for me?” she asked, lacing her fingers together in front of her, relaxing her shoulders. She hoped they could find a way to stay connected.
“Of course.”
“Thank you. But, how did you know I was back in town?”
“Well, obviously not from you,” he said, a slight edge in his voice before adding a smirk. “Greg, one of the science teachers here, texted me last night asking if I was going to the party Winnie was throwing for one of her friends, ‘Jules’. Although, I had no idea what he was talking about.”
“Ahh, sorry about that. That’s my fault. I wanted to talk to you first,” she said, stretching the truth. “But you’re welcome to come tonight! It’s just an excuse for Winnie to throw a party.”
Jules was embarrassed she asked Winnie not to invite him. Of course, he’d hear about it.
“Thanks, I’ll think about it.”
That’s all Jules could ask him to do.
After their rendezvous in the school parking lot, Jules felt conflicted at best. She was glad he took the conversation well. But in truth, part of her wanted him to talk her out of it. Convince her they’d be good together and should give it a proper go this time. But Miles was respectful. Always had been, and that wouldn’t change now.
The dress rehearsal was set to start at three thirty, so she hurried inside to find a stressed and frantic Winnie hurling demands at the students backstage as they got into their costumes and took their places.
“Hey, Win,” Jules said, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder from behind, causing Winnie to whip around, almost losing her balance.
“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said, hand over heart. “Talk me down, Jules. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Jules engulfed Winnie in a long hug before giving her a quick motivational talk.
“It’s just pre-show jitters, that’s all. And remember this is just the dress rehearsal. There’s four more days to fine tune anything that needs it before opening night. You got this.”
“Right. From now on, I’m a beacon of calm. I will be the lighthouse in the storm. Calm as an angel in the dragon’s den,” she said, hands lifted out to her sides, head back, with closed eyes.
“Yeah…be those.” Jules chuckled. She loved her best friend, weird metaphors and all.
Within thirty seconds, Winnie was back to her high-pitched screeching, trying to locate the male lead, who was in the bathroom nursing a bad hangover from the cast party the night before. Winnie and Jules found him hunched over the toilet.
“I’m going to pretend that I don’t know the real reason you’re puking your guts out right now, and in exchange for that, you’re going to get up and get on stage in no less than two minutes,” Winnie said to him, kneeling down to be eye-level.
Making their way to the theater, Jules whispered, “Damn, Winnie, that was straight up mafia style.”
“Kids these days are savage. They can smell weakness from a mile away.”
“Whatever you say. You’re the Don.”
“They’d do good not to forget it, too,” she said in a fake Italian accent, causing them to burst out laughing. Both knew Winnie was the farthest from a ‘Don’ personality as one could get.
Overall, the rehearsal wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t good, either, but it could be fixed. The worst part was the drunk male lead who couldn’t find his mark to save his life. Other than that, the cast only needed to memorize their lines, and they’d have a show.
On their way out to the parking lot afterwards, Winnie wondered aloud if she should call up the lead’s understudy for Friday night's show, but Jules convinced her to give him one more chance. Didn’t she remember the shenanigans they got up to in high school? Maybe he’d kick it into high gear for the next rehearsal.
“We’ll see,” said Winnie, already tired. “Meet you there?”
“Sure thing, boss,” Jules shot back before sliding into Rosa’s Subaru.
She hoped an evening of socialization would help Winnie relax. All afternoon her friend became more tightly wrung, as if she were a jack-in-the-box waiting to explode. It was very unlike Winnie. Something was off.