2. Sunday, May 6, 2012
SUNDAY, MAY 6, 2012
T he next morning over breakfast, Julia’s father turned his grim gray eyes on her, and Julia knew that her mother had told him everything.
“I guess we’ll grill tonight,” he grunted, stabbing into his home-style potatoes.
Julia couldn’t help smirking to herself.“Mom’s nursing a hangover?”
He muttered something containing the words at her age , which Julia took as confirmation.
After breakfast, Julia brought her kids downstairs and sat them both down in the den. She explained that William would be coming over again that night, and that they would be seeing a lot more of him from now on.
Paige smirked.“Does this mean what I think it means?”
“What does it mean?” asked Robert.
“William is Mom’s boyfriend.”
“Paige,” Julia said sharply.
The eyes Robert fixed on Julia were wide and blue. “Does that mean you’re going to kiss him?”
“Please, God, not in front of us,” Paige entreated .
“Guys.” Julia held up her hands to stop them. “I just wanted to let you know you’ll be seeing more of William.”
“Are you gonna get married?” asked Robert.
Julia affectionately mussed his already-rumpled blond hair. “Slow down, Tadpole; William and I need to spend a lot of time together before we even start thinking about that.”
Robert, who occasionally was five-going-on-forty, followed that up with, “So how long have you two known each other?”
Paige smacked him lightly on the arm. “Hello? I told you – he took Mom and me whale-watching six years ago.”
“Paige, please – let me answer the questions,” Julia insisted.
“Okay; Jesus!”
Julia ignored the band of irritation tightening around her throat. “Actually, William and I have known each other for nineteen years. But still, for now, he’s just coming over for dinner. That’s all.”
Paige shrugged, suddenly bored, while Robert said, “Can I go outside now?”
Julia rubbed her eyelid, feeling like she, or at least somebody, should be saying something more. “Okay.”
“So, you seized the day, after all,” Paige observed after Robert left.
Julia’s pulse fluttered as she recalled the previous night’s events. “Yes.”
“Props.” Paige offered an awkward fist bump, which Julia accepted with an equally awkward laugh. “I didn’t know you had known William for so long. That’s, like, more than half your life, isn’t it?”
Julia’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
Paige, calculating, lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Nineteen years… so that means you were…”
“Seventeen. We were both seventeen when we met.”
Paige whistled. “That’s only four years older than I am.”
Julia coughed out a shaky laugh. “It’s kind of scary when you put it like that.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Paige asked, “Was he your boyfriend then, too?”
“Yes, but we drifted apart when I went away to college.”
Paige sat thoughtfully for a moment, then got up to leave; but Julia put a hand on her shoulder.
“Paige, just a reminder – don’t tell Robert about William being his father. Or anyone else, for that matter. That’s a bit of news that William and I need to ease everybody into, especially Robert. If he finds out from you, it could be very traumatic.”
“I know, Mom. I won’t tell,” Paige said airily, getting up again to leave. But still, Julia held her shoulder.
“Promise,” Julia insisted.
“Jesus, Mom, I promise!” Paige wrenched herself free, and Julia watched her go, still uneasy.
But it was time to start preparing for the day and the inevitable anxiety it would bring. After her parents left for Mass, she took Robert to his tee-ball game. Then she burned her nervous energy by practicing the latest Bollywood steps she had learned in dance class and tending the saltwater aquarium with Paige. Later, she and the kids harvested vegetables from her mother’s garden and began prepping them for dinner.
Julia’s sister Alison arrived late that afternoon with her usual booty of pink-and-white-pinstriped pastry boxes. And as usual, Paige and Robert clamored around their aunt, competing for her attention and demanding to know if she had made eclairs or cream puffs this time.
Julia looked on fondly as her cheerful sister dodged their grasping hands and questions. Alison had dyed her pixie cut pink, and she wore a silver hoop in her right nostril. She had always been slender like Julia, but with more curves like their mother. Lately, by Alison’s own admission, she had been sampling more of her own product, and the evidence on her chest, hips, and thighs made her even more of a bombshell.
“All right, you two,” Alison finally shouted, shooing Paige and Robert from the kitchen with a sweep of her hands. “Get ye hence! I want to talk to your mom.”
The second they retreated downstairs, Alison pounced. “So?”
Julia didn’t need to say anything – the pure elation on her face told the whole story. Alison grinned and gave Julia’s arm a supportive squeeze.
“I guess I should thank you for going against orders and spilling everything that happened all those years ago,” Julia said wryly.
Alison blanched. “What are you–”
Julia silenced her with a good-natured shove to the arm. “William said you filled him in on how debilitated I was with the HG. That, and the pressure I was under from Mom and Paige to reconcile with Kevin.”
Alison winced and dropped the ruse. “Sorry.”
“For what?” laughed Julia. “If it weren’t for you, things probably wouldn’t have turned out the way they did.”
While she spoke, the patio door slid open again. Julia had just enough time to finish her sentence before Robert bounded upstairs, pleading for Alison’s help with his mud pies in the garden – since, after all, Alison was the family baker. Alison shot Julia a sidelong wink, then Julia found herself alone in the kitchen.
She glanced at the clock on the wall – four-thirty. Anxious butterflies swirled in her belly. Actually, it felt more like a swarm of rabid killer bees in there. Her father came home, bearing a load of prawns from Cardone’s, the fish processing plant William’s family owned and operated. It was right across the pier from Dunphy’s, her father’s restaurant. But before her father could intercept her, Julia rushed to the bedroom to change and get ready.
She didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard. And she certainly didn’t need her kids to notice some dramatic departure from her usual look and comment on it in front of William.
But she wouldn’t mind making him do a double-take.
So she pulled on a pair of black leggings and a slouchy, dusty-mauve sweater she had knit herself. The sweater had a wide neckline, and if she accidentally moved just right, it would expose one of her shoulders.
She styled her hair in loose waves and topped it all off with her favorite pale green cloche hat. But she omitted her usual scarf in favor of William’s mermaid necklace.
The doorbell rang only ten minutes later, and she worked off her resurgent nerves by running downstairs. Just before she flung open the door, her sweater’s neckline shifted, halfway exposing one shoulder.
Accidentally , of course.
William, on the other side of the door, looked relieved to find her, and only her, greeting him.
“What’s this?” she asked. He carried two guitar cases, one sized adult-sized, the other for a child.
“This,” he said, lifting the smaller one, “is something I found while scrounging around my parents’ attic.”
She took it and opened the door wide, inviting him in. Still incredulous that he was there at all, she found herself beaming. His smile was shyer, but at least Julia's wardrobe selections had the intended effect: a flush bloomed over William's cheekbones, and his wide, intensely blue eyes traveled the length of her before he forced them back to her face.
Julia's heartbeat galloped fast enough to win the Kentucky Derby. “Who first?”
“Let’s get your dad over with.”
Still smiling, Julia gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, then led him upstairs to the living room, where Paige watched TV. She looked up when they entered and droned, “Hey, William.”
“Hey,” he replied, depositing his guitar case in the corner by the fireplace.
Paige’s eyes perked up. “You brought a guitar?”
“A couple, actually.” He gestured to the smaller case Julia carried.
“Who’s that for?”
“Your mom tells me Robert likes music, so I found this old thing my brother and I used to play. I cleaned it up and put new strings on it. I thought I could give lessons, if anyone’s interested.”
“I bet Robert would love that,” Julia said, depositing the child-sized guitar case alongside William’s.
William slung the backpack from his shoulders, unzipped it, and unwrapped two bottles of wine from dish towels.
“I didn’t know what was on the menu,” he explained, “so I brought a Zinfandel and a Sauvignon Blanc.”
“Perfect.” Accepting them, Julia tilted her chin toward the kitchen, where her father worked. The muscle ticking in William’s jaw was the only clue to his state of mind, but he followed her silently.
Her father was deveining prawns and threading them onto skewers, along with the vegetables Julia and the kids prepped earlier. Hearing them, he turned and cast his signature severe look over the rim of his glasses – the look Julia called his resting bitch face .
“William.” Julia’s father stepped forward, as if to shake hands. Then, remembering himself, he wriggled his prawn-gut-coated fingers by way of apology.
William nodded in greeting. “Paul.”
Julia couldn’t help grinning at the spectacle. Her father cleared his throat and tried again.
“How’s your mother?”
“Hanging in there. Still grieving, of course. How’s the restaurant?”
Her father waved his hand dismissively. “Same old bullshit.”
Another awkward silence ensued before her father shrugged and gestured vaguely to the kabobs. “Well…”
Still grinning, Julia set the Zinfandel on the kitchen table and stowed the Sauvignon Blanc in the wine fridge. Her father turned his back again and resumed deveining prawns. Without another word, Julia steered William from the kitchen and back downstairs to the den.
“I think that went well, don’t you?” she teased.
Clearly flustered, he huffed a single, silent laugh, but said nothing.
“Everyone else is out back,” she said, sliding open the patio door.
Hearing them, Robert ran right up, standing on tiptoes to thrust a tomato seedling as close as possible to William’s face. “Do you like tomatoes?”
William’s face lit up as he squatted to inspect Robert’s offering. “Are you kidding? Tomatoes are my favorite!”
“Come help me and Grandma!”
“Absolutely, bud. Just give me a minute to say hi to everyone, and I’m there.”
Beaming, Robert ran back to the garden, and William stood again. At that moment, Alison sprang from her seat at the patio table, rushing to suffocate William in one of her signature bear hugs.
“Oh my God, I still can’t believe you have a beard!”
William shot Julia a deer-in-the-headlights look as he positioned his arms in a stiff circle around her sister and patted her back. Then, to make things even weirder, Alison seized William’s hands and stepped back, sizing him up.
“And your hair is so short now! It suits you, I guess, but those curls were the bomb. Why would you want to go and hack them all off?”
“Um–”
Even as Julia flushed in mortification, she couldn’t help snickering a bit. “Let the man breathe, Al.”
Alison laughed and waved her hand dismissively, as if Julia were the one being ridiculous. While Alison pulled William to the patio table, Julia’s mother, in the garden, heaved herself to her feet. Removing her gloves, she came to greet William, who shook her hand.
“William. How nice to see you,” her mother said genially.
“Nice to see you again, too, Karen.”
After the usual pleasantries, William’s eyes wandered to where Robert was digging a hole in a raised bed. “You’re planting tomatoes?”
“Oh, yes!” confirmed Julia’s mother. “The garden is my gym these days. The doctor says it’s good for my heart.”
“You can get tomatoes to grow out here in the Sunset? Without a greenhouse?”
She chuckled a bit. “It’s not easy, but after all these years I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“My grandmother did, too, but I still have no idea how she did it. I can barely get them to grow in the Mission.”
Her face lit up. “Oh! You keep a garden?”
“Just some potted San Marzanos, descended from the ones my nonna used to grow. Mom managed to keep them alive all these years in her greenhouse. She shared a few seedlings with me when I moved to the Mission.”
Julia’s mother stood agape. “Well, I never would have pictured that!”
“Farmer William,” Alison chimed in from the patio table.
William’s face reddened, and Julia shot her sister a withering look. Alison clapped a hand over her mouth, but her eyes were still laughing.
“Well, come here; let me show you,” said Julia’s mother, beckoning William into the garden, where Robert patted the dirt around a newly-planted seedling. William followed her readily.
Julia sat beside her sister at the table. “Lay off, okay?” she whispered. “I’m sure he’s nervous enough without all your fawning and ribbing.”
“Sorry,” Alison whispered, “but I couldn’t help myself. Would you ever have pictured him turning into some hipster farmer? ”
“Hipster? Why? Just because of the beard?”
“That, and the plaid flannel shirt.”
“He’s always worn plaid flannel shirts, ever since the grungy nineties.”
Alison’s eyes followed Julia’s to the garden. Ironically, William was just peeling off his button-down gray flannel, revealing the black T-shirt underneath.
“Oh! What is that ?” whispered Alison, leaning forward in her chair for a better look.
Julia had spotted it, too – tiny, barely-visible flashes of red, black, and green on William’s left bicep, peeking from beneath the hem of his short sleeve. If there was anything more to see, it was hidden under the sleeve.
“I have no idea,” Julia admitted. She had not seen his bare arms since reconnecting with him. “He didn’t have that one six years ago.”
“There’s one on his right arm, too,” Alison pointed out, and Julia strained to see. She was right – more flashes of color peeked from beneath the hem of his right sleeve. Between the distance and his movements, she couldn’t make out anything of that one, either.
“ God , tattoos are so fucking hot,” Alison blurted.
“Hey!” Grinning, Julia swatted her arm.
“Oh, don’t worry, Julie. William doesn’t have nearly enough for my taste.” Her eyes got a bit glassy. “Now Mike, on the other hand…”
As always, Julia grimaced at the idea of William’s lecherous brother and Alison.
“Wow, Julie. William looks great ,” Alison practically growled, with a note of surprise.
Julia snorted. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know, but I didn’t expect him to look so… fit . What else has he been doing to keep in shape? Besides gardening, I mean.”
Julia only meant to glance at William, but her attention snagged. He did indeed look more fit than before, though he was still far from bulky or ripped. Just lean, and nicely toned.
“I’m not sure,” Julia admitted. “I know he’s been riding a bike since his motorcycle died. ”
Alison guffawed, presumably at the idea of William riding a bicycle. Julia couldn’t entirely blame her – it was an adjustment for her, too.
“Well, fun for you.” Alison winked. “I guarantee you, he’s got a bangin’ body under those clothes.”
“Jesus, leave it to you to think only of that.”
“Don’t try to convince me it hasn’t been on your mind.”
“Of course it has, but I need to make sure we’re on the same page about a lot of things first.”
Alison looked skeptical, but thankfully she dropped the subject. They watched as their mother and William exchanged gardening advice and taught Robert how to lay mulch around the newly transplanted seedlings.
After a minute, Alison asked in a low voice, “Do you know anything about Mike?”
Resigned to Alison’s inevitable curiosity, Julia sighed. “No; Will hasn’t said anything about him yet.”
“The last time I hooked up with him was, like, four years ago. I’d love to catch up.”
“I bet you would.”
“The only thing I heard is that William moved out of the apartment they used to share.”
Julia hummed. “Will did give me his address the other day, and I could see it was different from the old one.”
“Mike also said William dropped out of the band.”
That genuinely surprised Julia. “Really?”
Alison nodded. “I kind of got the impression Mike felt hurt, even though he wouldn’t actually say so. Do you mind if I ask William about Mike?”
Julia shrugged. “I guess not. Just please, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t be weird about it.”
“There’s nothing holy about what I have in mind for Mike,” Alison retorted, grinning.
Julia groaned, but at that moment, their father emerged to light the grill, and Julia’s eyes snapped to William.
After politely excusing himself from Julia’s mother and Robert, William offered Julia’s father his assistance. Her father took him up on it, and as William passed the table, his smile reassured Julia that he was feeling more at ease.
Once the men vanished back inside, Julia’s mother sidled up to the patio table with a sly smile. She bent down to whisper to Julia, actually blushing.
“He’s such a lovely man,” she declared a little too breathlessly. “Like a young, more rugged Henry Fonda.”
“ Mother! ” Alison gasped, clutching at imaginary pearls in feigned shock. “You dirty old lady, you!”
Julia couldn’t help bursting out with laughter. In protest, her mother pinched Alison on the arm and twisted, hard – but she was grinning.
Alison scraped her chair back. “That’s it – I’m opening the wine,” she announced, snickering as she rubbed her sore arm. “Did you hear that, Mother? You’re driving me to drink!”
Back inside the house, while Julia and the kids laid the place settings, her mother retrieved wine glasses from the china hutch. Alison poured the Sauvignon Blanc, and they eavesdropped on the snippets of conversation floating out from the kitchen, where William and Julia’s father worked.
Her father groused, as usual, about how you can’t get good help these days and how nobody wants to work anymore; screeds that William wisely did not argue with. Meanwhile, William filled him in on his whale watching business, and on everything happening at Cardone’s. Sprinkled among those snippets came imperious orders that her father barked at William, and tactful, oblique suggestions for improvement that William offered in exchange.
Just like old times , thought Julia.
The three women carried their glasses back out to the patio table, while Paige carried stacks of dishes. Robert carefully toted the ancient orange Tupperware bowl of fruit salad.
Soon enough, the men emerged with platters of raw kabobs, and they all settled in to watch the spectacle. William tended the grill, with Julia’s father practically breathing down his neck. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to ruffle William any more than it ever had. When the kabobs were done grilling, he pulled them out two at a time.
It turned into a dance of sorts – William grilling and Julia’s father plating, then William contributing a sourdough roll, then her father adding a scoop of fruit salad. Plate after plate. When they reached the end of the line, by unspoken agreement, they worked together to garnish and add the finishing touches. They stepped back to inspect their work, then peered at each other a moment. Grinning, they exchanged a high-five.
“The bromance between those two has always been kind of adorable,” Alison observed to Julia after whistling her approval.
Everybody carried their own plate inside, and after waiting for Julia’s father to finish saying grace, they tucked in.
“I have to eat like this now because of my heart,” Julia’s mother explained apologetically as she passed the salt shaker to William. “But that doesn’t mean the rest of you have to suffer.”
He accepted it, but he said, “It actually doesn’t need much because of all the other flavors.”
Pinning his sober gaze on William, Julia’s father dropped a bombshell. “Would you ever consider coming back to Dunphy’s? I’d be willing to train you to be my sous chef.”
Without thinking, William shot Julia a look of alarm. “That’s really flattering,” he finally stammered, “but at this point, with my whale watching business…”
Julia’s father waved a hand. “I didn’t think you would. It’s just so damn hard these days to find anyone halfway competent. I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?”
“For sous?” William considered a moment. “It’s been so long since I’ve been in the business.”
Julia caught Alison’s eye, and they traded smirks. They both knew as well as William did that with its outdated decor, its vintage-eighties menu, and its rapidly-graying patronage, Dunphy’s stood no chance of attracting any self-respecting sous chef. And its geriatric chef de cuisine – crotchety and irascible even by chef standards – didn’t help anything.
This whole time, Robert had either been wolfing down his dinner or chattering with Paige. Thankfully, at that moment, he piped up with, “William, are you still gonna show us the whales?”
“Yes, on Tuesday,” William replied, his eyes softly gleaming. And with that, the conversation shifted to the logistics of their upcoming whale watching excursion.
Between dinner and dessert, they migrated to the living room, where William tuned the child-sized guitar. He taught Robert a few basic chords, demonstrating on his own guitar before helping Robert with his finger placement. Paige watched attentively, and eventually William handed his guitar to her.
“It’s too big, but give it a try, anyway.”
Eventually tiring of their lesson, Paige and Robert settled at the coffee table for a game of checkers, while Julia, William, and Alison drifted to the patio with their drinks. It was much chillier now, and William wore his flannel again. Julia lit the fire pit, and they dragged their chairs to it for warmth.
“I haven’t seen Mike in forever,” Alison said finally to William. “How is he?”
“Not sure,” replied William, his tone flat, “but if I had to guess, I’d say not well. I’m pretty sure he’s using again.”
“Oh no!” gasped Alison, blanching.
“Last time I saw him, he was losing weight. Then he started isolating again. He wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, or even come to the door. The usual. It’s not his first relapse.”
“No...” Devastation warped Alison’s features. “Really?”
“After his third relapse, I realized I couldn’t help him. And being around all that stuff was no good for me, either.” William sipped his San Pellegrino, and only then did Julia realize he had never partaken of the wine.
Alison stared, silently inviting him to elaborate, but he didn’t seem inclined to. After a moment, she asked, “Will you text me his cell? The last time I reached out, it wasn’t his number anymore.”
Frowning, William shifted in his chair. “I can, but just be careful. He’s an addict, with all the lying and manipulation that entails.”
Julia caught herself gaping. She had never heard him speak so harshly of anyone, let alone Mike. She saw the tiny furrow between his brows, and she knew from experience what that meant: clearly, there was some painful history there.
Alison looked equally taken aback, but thankfully said nothing more. After William shared Mike’s number, she murmured, “I guess I’ll go get dessert ready.” With that, she retreated indoors, leaving Julia and William alone.
Julia said the first thing that came to mind. “Thanks for including Paige in the guitar lessons.”
He waved a hand, as though it were no big deal.
“I have to admit,” Julia continued, “I was surprised at how well she took to the guitar. She’s never shown any interest in music before.”
William hummed politely, but still said nothing. The furrow between his brows persisted as he sipped his water.
Gently, Julia tried, “What about you? Do you still perform?”
“In public?” He shook his head. “But me and Niall are still good friends. You know – the drummer from Mike’s band?”
“Yes, I remember,” she said quietly. Her cousin Holly had hooked up with Niall a few times, just before she suddenly moved to Boston.
An awkward silence followed, in which they both swigged their drinks. Finally, Julia ventured, “Was Mike the reason you dropped out?”
“Partially, yeah; but I only ever did one or two shows a month, anyway. And then I just got too busy with work and getting my degree. But I still write and record songs sometimes.”
“I’d love to hear them. Unless they’re top secret.”
He finally smiled. “I’ll hook you up with a backstage pass.”
Julia’s pulse careened out of control and William’s smile evaporated as they simultaneously registered the double entendre. William hid his beet-red face behind his glass of San Pellegrino.
They spent a while watching the flames leap hypnotically in the fire pit. Finally, after an excruciating silence, Julia ventured, “I told Alison I didn’t mind her asking about Mike. If I told her wrong, I’m sorry.”
He shifted his weight and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Remember how I told you that my motorcycle finally died?”
She nodded.
“Well, that wasn’t the whole story. The truth is, Mike stripped it and used the money for drugs.”
“Oh, no,” Julia breathed .
“I didn’t press charges, but that’s when I decided enough was enough, and moved out.”
“That’s awful,” she murmured. “And so sad.”
He shrugged. “At least one positive thing came from it: I didn’t have anything to sell or trade in. I didn’t want to involve the police or my insurance, so I started biking and walking everywhere out of necessity. The exercise made me feel so good that I just kept doing it, long after I could afford to buy something. It keeps me on the straight and narrow.”
Tentatively, Julia ventured, “You also said being around Mike’s shenanigans was bad for you.”
Slowly, he nodded, his forehead creasing with apprehension. “The honest truth is, Julie… I was an alcoholic. Still am, depending on your perspective – a recovered alcoholic, or recovering, or whatever.”
“You mean while you were living with Mike?”
“No – or maybe yes. Again, it just depends on your definition of an alcoholic.” At her bewildered look, he explained, “I never let on how bad things got after you and I broke up the first time – back in ‘95, I mean. Not because I was deliberately trying to deceive you, but I was still in denial, myself.”
Gently, she prodded, “How bad did it get?”
His face fell, and he looked away. “As bad as it gets. You already know how self-destructive I was.”
She scooted her chair closer to his and reached for his hand. Stroked it until he was able to meet her eyes again. Then, he drew a deep breath.
“I went through full-blown withdrawal.”
Her stomach bottomed out, but she continued petting his hand. He searched her face, but she wasn’t sure how to respond yet.
“I never want to find myself going down that path again,” he continued quietly. “Which is why I couldn’t be anywhere near Mike.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m happy for you. And proud.”
But his mouth twisted into a rueful smile, and he shook his head.
“Will, you’re one of the strongest and bravest people I know.” When he still balked, she added, “Shame is just a form of fear, you know. But you’ve stared it down, and you’ve still made a life full of purpose – full of people who love you halfway to death.” Looking down at their hands clasped together, she was tempted to add like me, for instance . But her nerves swallowed the words – ironic, given what she had just said.
He caressed her hand with his thumb, and she lifted her eyes. With a poignant look, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip.
“I’ve been trying to stay healthy,” he said softly. “It keeps me sane – the exercise, and eating better. Growing a few vegetables on my patio, and taking care of other living things, like Diego.”
Julia drew back. “Diego?”
His eyes flew open wide. “Didn’t I tell you about Diego?”
“You definitely did not tell me about Diego.”
He smacked his forehead. “Diego is a dog, but he’s not really my dog.” At Julia’s perplexed look, he explained, “I live in the ground-floor apartment of a house that belongs to a friend of mine. When she moved to Alaska, she offered to let me live there at very low rent in exchange for being the property manager.”
“Sounds like a sweet gig. But what does that have to do with Diego?”
“Diego belongs to the family I rent the house to, but by now, he’s unofficially my dog, too. They’ve all become like a second family. In fact, pretty soon, they will be family.” Julia’s eyebrows lifted, and he explained, “One of them is about to marry my sister.”
“Oh! Who’s the lucky groom?”
He smiled faintly. “You mean who’s the lucky bride?”
“I see. Well, I must admit, I always wondered.” William laughed, and Julia added, “But I thought… back in 2006, you said Kelly was a single mom.”
“She and Vanessa, her first wife – they’re not together anymore. Kelly is the one who carried Xavier and Zach, my nephews. And now, Pilar is pregnant with twins.”
“Pilar?”
“The lucky bride.”
“Oh, wow. That’s going to be a full house over there, with your mom.”
“No; actually, Mom is moving out.”
Julia reeled in shock. “What? ”
“She’s moving to one of those seniors-only condos, here in the city. She’s letting Kelly and Pilar stay in the house in exchange for maintenance and property taxes.”
“That’s very generous,” Julia reflected, but she was already thinking ahead to how her mother would react when she found out.
“It is, but if she hadn’t, Kelly and Pilar would have left the Bay Area. They can’t afford to buy or rent here.”
“I’m sure your mom is relieved they won’t have to leave.”
His eyes softened. “She is.”
“But now, let’s get back to Diego. What kind of dog is he?”
A trace of a smile played at his lips. “A mutt. Probably part pittie, among other things. Sweetest kid ever.”
Melting, Julia pressed a hand to her heart. “I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but my parents said it wouldn’t be fair to the dog. No one was ever home.”
“That’s why we never had pets, either, except a few stray cats Nonna left food out for. But between the Ochoas and me, someone is always home to spoil Diego.”
Talking about Diego put a smile on William’s face and carried away his inhibitions. Julia couldn’t help grinning. “You really love that dog!”
William laughed. “Yeah, I guess he kind of wormed his way into my heart. If it’s okay with you and your parents, I’d love to bring him over to meet you all. He’s the gentlest, friendliest boy, and he’s great with kids. He won’t tear up the house, but we can keep him on the patio, if your parents prefer.”
“The kids would love that! I’ll check with my parents, but I’m sure it’s fine.” Suddenly nervous, but more anxious to see him again as soon as possible, she prompted, “How about tomorrow?”
He raked his hand over his hair. “I’d love to, but I'm afraid it would be rude if I came over again so soon. Won't your parents get sick of me?”
“Your conscientiousness does you credit, but I promise they love you, and they always have. In case tonight wasn’t enough to convince you.”
He bit his lips in a futile effort to suppress a smile. Their hands had stayed clasped together this whole time. Her heart flickering at the blinding beauty of his smile, she stroked his face with her free hand and drew him in for a kiss. He reached for a section of her hair that hung beneath her hat and allowed the length of it to travel slowly through his fingers. Her pulse thundered through her chest, throat, and ears, warming her whole body.
She could have stayed there with him for the rest of her life. But all too soon, he broke the kiss and smiled tenderly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in their distinctive way. And for her part, Julia could not wipe the giddy smile from her face.
“I have a feeling dessert has been served,” Julia speculated softly, “but my sister is making everybody leave us alone.”
He nodded, and they dragged themselves to their feet. Sure enough, inside, everyone was already digging into their eclairs. For good form, Alison feigned mortification. “Oh, I’m sorry! I forgot all about you two!”
Julia’s mother and father exchanged amused glances, and even Paige snorted at the charade. Only Robert remained oblivious, happily cramming his eclair into his mouth, smearing chocolate icing all over his face.
By the time they finished dessert, it was past Robert’s bath time. Alison bid her farewells, and Julia bundled Robert downstairs to the tub, where his vintage Fisher Price toy boat awaited. While Julia supervised Robert’s bath, the refrains of William and Paige’s ongoing guitar lesson drifted through the ceiling vents.
After Julia tucked Robert under his frog-print duvet, William brought his guitar downstairs to play for Robert. It wasn’t exactly a lullaby, but the gentle melody stood well in a lullaby’s stead. Very soon, Robert’s eyelids drooped, and he unleashed an enormous yawn.
“Good night, William,” Robert mumbled, already half asleep, as Julia switched off his light.
“Good night,” William whispered from the door.
After tiptoeing back to the den, Julia gestured to William’s guitar. “I wish you could stay and sing me to sleep with that thing.” Immediately, her face flared with heat as she realized how that might be construed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, not that I wouldn’t…” She groaned in frustration at herself. “I just mean I haven’t been able to sleep much over the past two nights. And I guess it shows. ”
His face also flushed, and he laughed a bit. “I haven’t slept much recently, either. And I’d like to do that for you someday, when the time is right.”
He had already retrieved his backpack from upstairs, and now he slung it over his shoulders. Julia’s heart sank – he was leaving.But of course it must have been exhausting, trying to make a good impression on everyone; and maybe he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
“I already said my goodbyes to your parents and Paige,” he offered.
Julia hid her disappointment behind a forced smile. “We’ll eat around six tomorrow. When can you and Diego can make it?”
“When do you want us? We can come as early as four, on Mondays.”
“Four it is.” She gestured to his guitar case and backpack. “How are you getting home on your bicycle with all that stuff?”
“Oh, I’m not going home tonight. I’ll stay with Mom and Kelly.”
She nodded, and her face burned again as she realized there was only one thing left to do. A slow, guarded smile crept over William's face as he realized the same thing. She rose up on her tiptoes, and at the same time, he dipped his head, briefly touching his lips to hers.
Her sweater slipped from her shoulder again as he broke the kiss. He smiled a moment longer, his eyes surveying her in what she hoped was appreciation. But he only said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
After seeing him out and locking the door behind herself, she stood frozen, her hand still on the doorknob.
Although he had never been cold, his demeanor was guarded. And although he allowed her to touch and kiss him, they had not once said I love you, like they did yesterday.
But again, it was no wonder – he had been on his best behavior in front of her parents and kids. Besides, it annoyed her that she was scrutinizing his every action, expression, and tone of voice. Anything could happen in the weeks and months ahead. There were so many hurdles to overcome. She knew she should not invest so much of her heart in the outcome. She knew she still had plenty to fill her life, even without him.
And yet, with every minute and every interaction, her heart grew impossibly more attached. And it terrified her that the outcome might not be what she hoped.
But she couldn’t afford to think about that now. She still had to face Paige, and her parents.
Back upstairs, she found Paige on the sofa, still practicing the chords William had taught her. Julia's father read the newspaper in his favorite chair and made no effort to acknowledge Julia’s presence. So Julia wandered into the kitchen to help her mother finish the dishes.
“Here, Mom; let me take over,” Julia offered, and her mother readily agreed. After removing her aching joints to the kitchen table, where the rest of her Cinsaut awaited, Julia’s mother unlocked her cell phone to scroll through Facebook.
Julia casually loaded dishes into the dishwasher. “Will tells me he has a dog named Diego.”
Her mother hummed. “Really?”
“He’d like to bring Diego over tomorrow to meet the kids, if that’s okay.”
Her mother looked up. “Here?”
Julia nodded. “At four o’clock. Only if that’s okay with you and Dad. He says Diego’s well-behaved, but we can keep him on the patio if you prefer.”
Her mother lifted a shoulder, and her eyes returned to her phone. “I don’t see why not.”
That, at least, was a good sign. “Did you know that Kelly is getting married?”
“Yes, Ann told me. To a woman, apparently.” Her mother’s tone carried a note of judgment behind it. “But technically they won’t be married, you know. Because of Prop 8.”
“Yes, Mother, I’m aware,” Julia snapped. “But it’s still a marriage, even if the State of California refuses to recognize it.”
“And Ann tells me Kelly’s fiancée is pregnant with twins.” Leaning forward, as if imparting something scurrilous, her mother whispered, “Artificial insemination.”
Julia frowned, but decided to ignore her mother’s cattiness, for now. “Did you know Ann is moving into one of those seniors-only condos?”
“Yes,” her mother sighed. “At least she’s not moving very far.”
“Really? Where is it?”
“That place called Treemont, in the Inner Sunset, just on the other side of 19th. It’s close to Golden Gate Park, too, so that’s nice. Plus, for her, it’s closer to Cardone’s.”
“I had no idea Ann was moving until William told me.”
“I guess I forgot to mention it. Maybe I don't want it to be true. There’s no one left in this neighborhood anymore.”
“There are plenty of people in this neighborhood, Mom,” sighed Julia. “You just don’t choose to know them.”
“How can I? They all speak Chinese.”
Julia’s voice inadvertently took on a sharp edge. “Mom, that’s not true.”
Her mother lapsed into silence and pretended to go back to scrolling her phone. With a pang of remorse, Julia gently suggested, “Why don’t you and Dad go visit Ann after she moves in? You can take a look around Treemont while you’re there. See what you think.”
Her mother’s eyes snapped up again, flashing. “Why, so you and William can move in here together?”
Julia put a hand on her hip. “That’s not what this is about, Mom.”
Her mother waved a hand in exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about this.” And with that, she heaved herself from the table and retreated to her bedroom with her wineglass.
Brooding, Julia finished loading the dishwasher. As she wiped down the sink and counters, she began to wonder in earnest if it were past time for her parents to sell the house and move. They had complained for years that all their friends were dying or moving away.
Julia's parents were both seventy-five. Her mother’s arthritis and heart problems made it challenging to keep the house and garden up to her standards. Granted, her father still seemed spry, but he had never been much help. He claimed the kitchen as his domain, but he viewed the rest of the house as his wife’s.
Finally, at nine, Julia ordered Paige to bed. With a luxuriant yawn, her father also turned in for the night. Meanwhile, Julia tried in vain to quell her mind at the sewing machine. And when she finally dragged herself to her old childhood bedroom, which she now shared with Paige, she lay awake most of the night, staring at the ceiling and listening to Paige’s soft snores.