Chapter Twenty-Three #4
She learned that grief and sorrow do not get easier with practice. It was familiar, yes, that feeling when she saw something amusing and wanted to tell her friend about it but realized she could not. But it hurt so much more, now that she knew she never would.
As Michael’s return visit approached, she thought she should prepare herself for the likelihood that he might be newly engaged to Genevieve Carter.
Unfortunately, her preparations, such as they were, consisted of many hours contemplating if and how she might tell Michael that Miss Carter was a simpering ninny and not nearly good enough for him.
He arrived in the late afternoon in a cheerful humor, which naturally made Julia suspicious. She cursed whoever decided that only women should wear engagement rings. If she saw one on his hand, it would at least give her time to prepare herself before the words came out of his mouth.
It was a clear day, a bit warm, but there was a breeze coming from the north, so they headed out on the cliff path in the direction of the beach.
Despite a resolution to be cool and nonchalant, Julia yammered. She described Louisa’s funeral Mass in far greater detail than was warranted, and then began ticking off the names of every person in attendance whom she thought Michael might know from college or Washington.
At one point, Michael pointed at a sailboat in the distance. “Is that your parents?”
She squinted. “I think it is.”
Her parents sailed together often, but Julia felt unexpected pleasure at seeing them do so today. Julia still saw her parents’ marriage as rather Victorian, but while Mother might be a wife in the old tradition, that did not mean that she was powerless, or that her marriage was without passion.
“How is work, Michael?” she asked finally. Surely Miss Carter’s name would not arise in a conversation about his professional life.
“I actually have an announcement on that front. I find I’m tired of the news game. I am glad I did it, but I’m awfully sick of petty political battles. I have decided to make a change.”
“What will you do?”
“I was speaking with my father about some projects that I thought our family foundation should support, and he asked if I would consider running it. I said I would.”
The Seabornes were so human, so earthbound, Julia often forgot how wealthy they were. “That sounds wonderful, Michael. What sorts of projects?”
“We have something in the works for wounded veterans, though I’m still figuring out what is most needed, where we can be most helpful. And I would like to start fresh air camps for boys and girls who live in the city.”
“Oh, how marvelous! Where will they be?”
“Up here, in fact. I’ve been scouting sites over the past few days.”
So, was he not with Genevieve Carter? Julia’s heart lightened.
“Since you are available in the summers, I actually wondered if you might be interested in helping,” he said, casting her a sideways glance. “But I was not sure if your relationship with Mr. Stewart might be an impediment.”
“That’s over.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Are you? I’m not.”
“Then I take it back. I’m thrilled!”
“So, you did not like him either?” Julia sighed.
“I didn’t like him for you.”
“Don’t let anyone tell you that you see less with one eye than two.” Julia took a deep breath and decided it was time to face her fate. “And what about Miss Carter?”
“Engaged!” he said, cheerfully.
Julia felt like crying and wondered how she could get through the rest of the walk without doing so. She managed to say, “My felicitations,” though she knew her words sounded terribly hollow.
He laughed. “Not to me, you goose. To Hank Duvall.”
“Oh!” Julia felt a jolt of hope. “Were you upset? I wasn’t sure if you…”
Michael stopped, looked down, and idly kicked at a clump of weeds. “No, I never was.”
“Why not?”
He looked up at her, smiled, and then shook his head slowly. “It’s always just been you, Julia.” He spoke gently, as always letting her know that whatever she wanted, or did not, was all right.
Julia felt a flutter in her chest, and a pleasant chill that left goose bumps on her arms. And then, suddenly, she began to laugh.
“Oh, Michael, I cannot tell you how much I had come to detest Genevieve Carter. I have had the most uncharitable thoughts about her.”
Michael peered at her closely, as if he thought he might not be hearing her properly. “Julia, are you saying…”
She smiled up at him. “I am saying it’s always been just you, too, Michael, only I was too stupid to know it.”
He put his hands on the side of her face and looked into her eyes, his expression a mixture of joy and astonishment. He leaned in then and kissed her, and Julia felt as if she might melt.
He pulled back but kept his hands on her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. His eyes had always been so kind, so soulful. Truly, he did not need them both. One really did do the work of two.
Then, as if he could read her thoughts, he moved his hands to her shoulders and said, in a businesslike tone, “So, what do you think, Jules? Could you marry a cyclops?”
“No, I could not marry a cyclops.” Julia shook her head and frowned. She paused, as if considering the matter, then added, “But I could marry a pirate.”
He laughed, then took her hand, and they resumed their walk, stopping occasionally to kiss, or just to look at each other like fools. They spoke about the fresh air camps, when they might marry, and where in Washington they might live.
They made it to the beach and then turned to head back toward Fourwinds, but they stopped before they took the path up to the house.
The strains of the sunset orchestra wafted over from the west side of the peninsula, and they watched as a few soft clouds over the island turned pale pink, and a lavender gray spread over the water like a blanket. Julia felt tears sting at her eyes.
I opened the curtains, Louisa. I let out the dark.