Chapter 7
Julian had to tread softly.
He could already see that something had spooked Petula, but he had no clue what that was. They’d only talked food so far.
Maybe he should offer up some things about himself, then indicate that she was in no way obligated to do so in return.
“You know, it’s been interesting for me, getting out after twenty-five years of service,” he told her after taking his first sip of the glorious beverage in front of him. “I think that the transition, however, has been easier for me than my brothers.”
“Why is that?” she questioned, picking up her breakfast Danish to nibble at it, clearly glad he’d broached a neutral topic.
“Well, I spent the last ten years based in Bangor, which meant I could come home for supper almost any time I wanted. It also kept me in touch with everything going on, locally, unlike them, who were all much farther away.”
“That makes sense,” she agreed. “My brother did ten years in the Army Corp of Engineers. He was based mostly in the US, but not around here.”
Julian digested that, and…he wanted to cheer. He hadn’t asked for any info, but Petula had willingly given him some. Not that he was going to pursue it with follow-up questions.
“Yeah. I was…elsewhere for my first fifteen years. It can be exhausting. But now that I’m wearing a businessman’s hat instead of a helmet, my life feels almost surreal.
Nobody is barking orders at me from the top.
I’m not barraged daily with critical data that needs immediate addressing, and I’m not the sounding board for the problems of every person on my team.
Not that it was a bad thing,” he was quick to clarify.
“I’m a very good, sympathetic listener, and am always willing to lend an ear. ”
Maybe that would put her a bit more at ease.
“I bet you got that from growing up as a middle brother,” Petula speculated astutely.
“Bingo,” Julian replied with a chuckle. “All my siblings, both younger and older, were gregarious and outspoken. I was the one who sat back and assessed; put balm on their egos when they were down, or buoyed them up when they needed reassurance. It kinda sucked at the time, always having to be the voice of reason, but when I was deployed and in charge of several units, I thanked them every day for inadvertently giving me those skills.”
“Where were you deployed, if I can ask,” Petula probed.
“Ahh, where haven’t I been?” he snorted, then semi-filled her in. “I can’t tell you anything that was classified, but needless to say I’ve seen action in Afghanistan, Iraq, the Philippines, and Kabul. My team also assisted with domestic relief during and after Hurricane Katrina.”
“That’s a lot,” Petula marveled, her eyes showing her understanding. “Statler, my brother, helped with a lot of critical infrastructure following Hurricane Katrina, too, but being on American soil was pretty much normal for him.”
Julian nodded. “He was one of the lucky ones. You feel more connected doing things on your home turf.” He segued. “You mentioned living with your brother. Is your home nearby?” He’d gotten the low down from Tabitha, but it would be nice to hear it directly from Petula.
He immediately sensed her shutting down. “Close enough.”
Okay. That was a dead end. So…
Maybe he’d ask about her interactions with his family. That should be safe territory.
“You seem to know just about everyone in town, and you mentioned knowing a lot of my family?”
Her features lightened. “Uh, huh. Obviously, Spence, Buck, Trask, and their wives, from the Dive Shop, and Bobbie from her catering business.”
“Who else?” Julian hoped she’d continue talking.
“There’s Mason and Everlee, ordering toys for their daughter, like I said.” She smiled. “And Rowan I’ve met when making deliveries to Everlee. I’m a little bit familiar with her husband, Kyle, but we’ve never actually been introduced.”
Julian laughed. “You’ll love him. Everybody does. He’s a Bangor cop, as you know, and also the jokester in the family.”
“The jokester?”
“Yup. He’s second only to Vincent, who is completely irredeemable.”
“I don’t know Vincent at all,” she pondered. “I understand that he played football against my brother, though, in high school.”
Julian tucked that bit of information away in his brain for contemplation later, and continued.
“Yeah? That’s pretty cool. You can tell Statler that Vince is still in the Navy, based in California, but he actually may not be for much longer.”
It was almost unbelievable that Vincent, the last of them still serving Uncle Sam, was contemplating separation.
Petula dipped her chin in acknowledgement. “That will be nice for you, even if he is still a prankster,” she posed. “I’ve also never met your youngest brother. Uh, Seifer, you said?”
“That’s right. Good memory. And Seifer has been a total ghost lately. Nobody knows exactly what’s going on with that kid. Well, other than my mother, and she’s not saying.”
Now Petula’s smile was genuine. “Your mother. She’s such a wonderful woman. Do you guys know how lucky you are to have grown up with her at the helm?”
“We do,” Julian stated with certainty, warmth filling his chest. “She’s the best. But have you met my father?”
“No.” Petula shook her head.
“He’s also amazing, and has always been our role model, but in a different way. He’s steady, even-keeled, thoughtful…”
“So you take after him the most.”
Julian had never quite thought of that, but it was true. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
“So what was his role in the family?” she asked.
Julian chuckled. “At those rare times when my mother couldn’t control us, or she’d find herself out of her depth after some horrible childhood infraction or another, my father would be the one to talk it out with us; make us see the error of our ways.”
Petula got a melancholy, far-off look in her eyes. “It all sounds so marvelous.”
That seemed downright…sad.
Julian intuited that Petula’s upbringing must have been far different.
At that juncture, he knew better than to ask about her parents.
Instead, he lightened things up. “Oh, it wasn’t all hearts and flowers at the Sothard home,” Julian chuckled. He launched into some of the pranks and mischief he—and especially Kyle and Vincent—had perpetrated that had gotten them in some serious hot water.
Julian wasn’t even aware of time passing. As he talked, he realized he could easily watch the expressions crossing Petula’s lovely face for hours.
Before he was ready, Petula put down her empty cup and began shuffling in her seat.
Julian was shocked that forty-five minutes had gone by.
“I really have to go,” she told him.
Did he see regret in her face?
“That’s too bad,” he told her, dropping his filters for a moment.
“Packages don’t deliver themselves,” she added with a shrug.
“Until the drones take over,” Julian quipped.
She scoffed. “Right. Then I’ll have to learn to operate a joystick, which might not be a bad thing when I’m old, but for now…” Petula pushed back her chair. “…I hope that technology advances very slowly.” She stood, twisting her hands together, suddenly looking unsure again. “Well, I’m off then.”
“I should get to work, too,” he told her regretfully, also standing. But he’d be damned if he let her go without trying to set something else up. “Can I see you again? For coffee, maybe? Someplace where we aren’t getting leered at?”
Yeah. Nate had been checking them out and smirking, nonstop.
“He is a little over-the-top. He tends to notice everything,” Petula huffed amusedly.
“But if there’s ever a crime committed in town, Nate will have everything instantly laid out for the chief of police.
I’ve told him more than once he should take the civil-service exam and join the police academy, and he actually seems eager. ”
“Maybe that’s what he’s saving his tips for,” Julian agreed, giving the kid a jaunty wave as he followed Petula out the door. He got two thumbs up in response that luckily Petula didn’t see.
And now that the bug was in his ear regarding the barista, he’d have to speak to his cop brothers to see if they could help the kid out in any way.
“About meeting up again?” he asked as he walked her to her car. It was his second attempt at seeing if she’d agree to meet with him again, and if she put him off now, he wouldn’t push. As much as it would hurt.
Color, instead, moved up in her gorgeous face. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday… Do you, umm, know the Moose and Muffin in Bangor?”
“I do.” Julian could barely refrain from doing a happy dance. “I’ve never been though.”
“You’ll like it,” she assured him. “We could meet there. Say at…nine?” She quickly explained. “I like to sleep in on the weekends. My brother says I’m a person who could hibernate under the covers all day if given the chance, and he’s not wrong.”
She hit the unlock button on her key-fob and chuckled; the two sounds officially ending their first date. And yes, Julian was calling this a date, simply because it was the most one-on-one time he’d spent with a woman other than his relatives, in a very long time.
“That’s understandable,” Julian told her, ignoring the happy flutter in his chest when thinking about her in bed, “considering how much ground you cover each week, you must be exhausted half the time. I think nine o’clock sounds perfect.”
Hell, she could have said any time at all, and he would have happily agreed.
He didn’t tell her that he’d be up at five, as was his norm.
Being in the military for such a long time, it was hard to break the early rising habit. Still, the later meet-time would give him a chance to go for a run, then shower.
Julian scooted around Petula where they stood on the sidewalk, and opened her car door. Her eyes grew wide.
“I… I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before,” she marveled. “I thought it was something you only saw on television, or read about in books.”
“Nope. Real life here,” Julian quipped. “You should stick around and see what else I’m good at.”