2. 10
“Stand up.”
He didn’t stand, but he lifted his head. “I know you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you. But it’s not in my nature to hurt people. Think about Kevin yesterday. Why in God’s name would I ever hurt you when I wouldn’t touch him?”
“No, you don’t hurt people. You just bully them with your six feet four inches and your big loud macho motorcycle. ”
He seized her hands. “When we shared those two classes together in our freshman and sophomore years, I always loved the spunky way you shut down those assholes. The ones who called you Horsey Face, and Mosquito Bites. ‘You really can’t take your eyes off me, can you?’ ‘I hate to break your heart, but don’t start picking out curtains yet.’ The whole class would laugh, and sometimes the guys would talk a little more smack just to save face, but then they usually moved on to someone else.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” she interrupted.
“Because at first, that was the only thing I admired about you. But then there was your smile. I never noticed until you started coming in to Cardone’s. You kept turning that smile on me even though I did absolutely nothing to encourage it. In fact, I think I did everything in my power to discourage it. But that smile… You just never gave up on me. And then there you were, turning that smile on some Cat Stevens doppelganger with glasses.”
In spite of herself, she could feel her anger circling the drain. She knew he could see it happening. He squeezed her hands, his eyes intense and earnest.
“Please don’t let this be it. You have to know how wrong that would be. Think of everything we’ve been through the past two years.”
He put his head back in her lap. After a minute, she put her fingertips in his hair, caressing his scalp. He looked up, his forehead creased with anguish. The eyes that met his were grave now, with no trace left of anger.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out the ring. Grabbed her hand, slipped it onto her finger again and held it there, as if to keep it from coming off again. He scooted forward and pulled her forehead down to touch his. Laced his fingers through hers.
She listened to his breath coming quick. Felt her body responding to it. It was an exquisite contrast, the almost transcendent joy of her forgiveness, coming so close on the heels of her anger.
He waited for her to lift his mouth to hers before he moved up to her, gathered her up. He helped her undress, taking time to kiss every little part of her body that he uncovered, until she stood before him in nothing but the mermaid necklace and her ring. Then he snatched his clothes off as fast as he could. The endorphins surging through both of them made her weigh nothing at all. He lifted her like a feather, wrapped her legs around his hips. Moaned with the sheer joy of being inside of her. The sounds he made when she thrust back against him sent lights flickering through her field of vision.
He spun her around, laid her down on the bed. He stayed on top, delaying the inevitable as long as he could, and then flipped her around on top of him. Held her hands, let her push back against them. Watched her body as she moved fast on him, breathing raggedly, until she sensed his explosion coming and jammed her hips down to meet it.
Completely immobilized, he watched her lay alongside him, run her fingers down his torso and back up again. She kissed him on the mouth, more and more insistently. As soon as he could, he pulled her up onto his mouth. Slipped his fingertips inside of her at the same time, and the sweat beaded up on her skin. She stiffened, bore down on him and forgot to mind what she said or what sounds she made.
But the tension in her body told him that she was far from done, so he flipped her down onto her back, draped her legs across his shoulders. She dropped her head back onto the pillow, gripped by wave after wave, until her body had nothing left to give up.
By then he was already hard again, but he let her float for a while in the haze. As soon as he dared, he climbed on top of her and let her rest while he tried to satisfy his seemingly insatiable need.
Food became a secondary concern. When low blood sugar made it unavoidable, he ordered a pizza so they wouldn’t have to leave. He sat her in his lap, both of them stark naked, and she laughed with him at their attempts to feed each other pizza. They lost patience after one slice apiece, and made love right there in the chair.
When the sun went down, and their bodies were tapped out, he held her against his side, kissing her mouth, massaging her hair.
He whispered, “You have every part of me. My heart, my body and my soul. And you always will.”
“I love you so much,” she murmured, and it gave her pain to say it because she had a feeling it would be the last time she would.
A week later, William called to make plans for Julia’s birthday.
“I’m not going to be able to get away for my birthday,” she said. “I have too much work to do if I ever want to recover from this.”
“From what?”
“I got bad feedback from my internship.”
“Oh, Julie. I’m so sorry.” When Julia said nothing more, he added, “If you want to get together another weekend, we can.”
“Will.”
Her stomach was churning, nauseous. This was it – she was going to have to make up her mind. Even at this very moment, she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. What she said in the next few moments could alter the entire direction of her life. Of his life.
“Will,” she said. “It was a mistake.”
After a long pause, William said, “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
Another long pause ensued. “Julie, what was a mistake?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I want to hear you say it.” When she still said nothing, he prompted, “Is it Kevin?”
“It’s not Kevin.” Drawing a deep breath, she added, “I told you already. I need to focus on school if I ever want to recover from this.”
“And I told you already, I won’t get in your way.”
“My uncle once talked to me about you,” she said gently. “He told me that if it’s meant to be, the details will work themselves out. Well, the details aren’t working themselves out. I can’t offer you the time and attention you deserve and still do what I need to do. Not without completely losing the person I am apart from you.”
A couple of minutes of silence ensued. Julia did not try to interrupt it. She knew he needed that time to absorb the truth of what she had said.
Eventually, he asked, “Are you still wearing the ring?”
“No.”
There was a puff of air on the other end of the line, as if her words had taken his breath away, and his voice along with it. Eventually, she added, “I’ll give it back.”
“I don’t want it. Do whatever you want with it.” After another long silence, he added, “I’m not going to stalk you, Julie. If you want me, I’m here. If you want me to come to you, just say the word.”
Her voice cracked. “Okay.”
Even so, before giving up completely, he mailed a package to her dorm in Santa Barbara.
Julia’s father updated her sporadically on what William was doing.
“Remember your old boyfriend, William?” he asked her not long after they broke up. As if she could ever forget. “He dropped out of college, and now he’s working here full-time as a line cook.”
Julia’s heart sank at the news. But not as much as it did a year later, when her father told her he had moved to Alaska to work on the crab boats.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Julia asked, careful not to let her voice betray too much of the terror she truly felt.
“Very. But the risk to reward ratio is very high. If he doesn’t get himself killed, he could make himself a ton of money in a very short time.”
She heard nothing more about him for five years after that. Then one day, out of the blue, her father said to her again, “Remember your old boyfriend William?”
Her heart skipped a beat, in spite of the fact that she was married to Kevin by then.
“Yeah?”
“He’s back from Alaska now.”
“Oh. What’s he up to nowadays?”
“Working in my kitchen again.”
“What?” Julia could not hide her astonishment. “Why?”
“I don’t know, because I’m sure he made himself a fortune up there, but I’m glad to have him. He’s the only white guy I’ve ever seen who works harder than a spic. Of course after the Alaska crab boats, my kitchen must seem like a vacation to him.”
And a year or so before Kevin left her for the first time, her father casually said, “Remember William? He’s still here.”
“Really? What’s he doing?”
“Working grill now, or sometimes rounds cook. He’s the best damn line cook I’ve got.”
“Then why is he still a line cook?”
“Because he’s a soldier, not a general. And because I pay to keep him there.”
For some reason, it made Julia sad that he was still trapped there when, as she told herself, she had moved on so thoroughly.
Every once in a while over the years, she heard the song Wish You Were Here on the radio, and then she thought of him. It meant something completely different to her now than it did back then, when he sang it to her in his room. Now, it felt more like an indictment. She imagined him working in her father’s restaurant as she pulled into the garage of her house in Menlo Park, and quickly changed the station.