22. Wednesday, July 4, 2012
WEDNESDAY, JULY 4, 2012
W ednesday was July Fourth, and Julia closed the shop for the day. William planned to take Julia and the kids on his boat to watch the fireworks from the bay. And even though they would have to share the night-time cruise with William’s other customers, the anticipation radiating off the kids that morning was palpable.
Julia cooked a big breakfast, and while the kids did the dishes, she rewarded herself at her sewing machine with a few more touches to her Halloween costume. It was coming along nicely, but it would still take every bit of the next four months to finish.
Her phone buzzed, and she retrieved it from her pocket. William was FaceTiming her.
“Hey, sweetie.” She moved to the couch and fiddled self-consciously with her hair. He sat outside on his patio in a pair of sunglasses, which he tilted to the top of his head.
His eyes widened a bit, as they always did when he FaceTimed her. As if they were trying to soak up every last ray of light beaming her image from his phone screen. “Hi, beautiful.”
Julia couldn’t help chuckling a bit. She wore no makeup, her greasy hair was tangled in a messy bun, and dark circles ringed her eyes, no thanks to sleepless nights spent fretting over Chad the Fuckwad. She wore a boring white terr ycloth jumper and no bra – super comfy for lounging around the house, but hardly fit to be seen in public.
“You are severely biased, but I’ll take it.” Then she saw him shift anxiously in his seat, and noticed he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed quickly. “Nothing’s wrong; just ... awkward.”
“What’s awkward?”
“Um...” He scratched his nose. Looked off to the side. “So I heard from Marisa early this morning.”
Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed hard and composed herself. “Oh.”
“Your dad did, too. The producers of her new show want her to do a quick run-through of Dunphy’s over FaceTime. They just want to get a peek at the layout so they can see what they’d be working with, if they select it. Or so they can reject it outright, if it’s obviously not suitable. And since Marisa’s own restaurant is closed for the holiday, she thought this afternoon would be perfect.”
“Okay...” Then, with looming dread, it dawned on her. “But how does this pertain to you?”
“Well... at the same time, she wondered if you might be open to meeting her this afternoon. I’d be there, too, of course, in the background. For moral support.”
Julia laughed. “Moral support?”
Even over FaceTime, Julia could see the tops of his ears redden. “I mean... if you want,” he hedged. “I’d give you space to talk, of course.”
Honestly, Julia was relieved. She thought he was about to say he was going back to work at Dunphy’s – with Marisa.
Julia had planned all along to meet William at Dunphy’s at four, then explore the Embarcadero with him and the kids until it was time to board The Albatross . So, they just stuck to that timeline. Julia parked in the employee lot and steered the kids through the back door.
The kitchen was eerily quiet, and it smelled different. No wonder, since nobody had cooked there for almost two months. They wound their way around the stations and through the swinging door, dumping them into the dining room. For a split second, Julia pulled up short at the sight that greeted her: William and her father, seated at the same four-top; while at the h ostess’ station, a busty woman with legs for days and a sleek, coffee-brown ponytail snapped photos of Julia’s aquarium on her cell phone.
And just like that, Julia snapped back to the ladies’ room at MacGowans, circa 2006: So you’re the flavor of the month.
Do you think you’re the only woman he’s written a song for?
Just don’t let him get you pregnant.
Oops. A wry grin stole across Julia’s face, instantly squelching her looming panic. Too late for that last part.
Her smile came just as both her father and William spotted her. They rose to greet her, and Marisa turned from the aquarium.
With a smile that was guarded but not hostile, Marisa came forward, stowing her phone in the back pocket of her skinny jeans. Extra-long skinny jeans, to sheath those extra-long legs. People often complimented Julia on her legs, but they had nothing on the Barbie-esque proportions of Marisa’s. The woman was at least six feet tall.
She marched right up to Julia and stuck out her hand. “Marisa Zunino.”
Julia could already tell – Marisa was a dynamo. Keenly aware of the two men watching, Julia offered her most disarming smile and shook Marisa’s hand. “Julia Beale. Nice to meet you, Marisa.”
Marisa glanced back at the aquarium. “I was just admiring your work. When I used to be here, whoever they had taking care of it never made it look this good. And I hear it’s environmentally-friendly, too.”
A bit flustered, Julia glanced reflexively at William. “Thank you. Yes, environmental stewardship is kind of my niche.”
“I can't wait to learn more about it.” Marisa was already moving on to greet Paige and Robert. Her eyes lingered, making a circuit of Robert's face, before she grinned at William with a knowing twinkle in her dark doe-eyes. William flushed, clearly uncomfortable, and his eyes flitted to some random spot across the room.
“Kids,” Julia said, “maybe you’d like to walk down to the Ferris wheel with your grandpa? Maybe pop into the Musée Mécanique for a while?”
This was their pre-arranged signal: even Robert knew that Julia and William were here for a “boring grownup meeting.” And thankfully, despite her vocal resist ance at home to “boring kid stuff,” Paige followed them out the front door and onto the pier with a minimum of grumbling.
When they were gone, William cleared his throat. “I’ll, um... I’ll just be in there,” he muttered, jerking his thumb toward the kitchen door before stiffly retreating.
Julia watched him go until the door swung closed and she could no longer avoid the inevitable. Shifting her eyes to Marisa, Julia caught her former arch-nemesis already studying her with overt amusement. To Julia’s own surprise, they simultaneously burst into laughter.
“Well, this isn’t awkward at all,” Marisa commented after a minute.
Julia clutched her sides. “Poor Will. I’m sure he can hear us laughing out here.”
After another spurt of laughter, Marisa gestured to the nearest table. “Have a seat,” she invited, as if she already owned the place.
As Julia took her seat across the table, her heart caught in her throat. She was now face-to-face with the woman who had haunted her nightmares. The woman whose words at MacGowan’s sparked a chain reaction, culminating in Julia and William’s second breakup in 2006. And that, in turn, was the worst mistake of Julia’s life – a scene she replayed every second of in her mind, ad nauseum, for the past six years.
“I don’t know what Will has told you about me.” Marisa’s voice snatched Julia from her brooding. “But it’s probably all true.”
Once again, Julia barked out a laugh. She had prepared for Marisa to be a lot of things, but funny wasn’t one of them.
“Here’s something I never told him, though,” Marisa continued. “After we broke up, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder.”
“Oh,” said Julia, too stunned by Marisa’s frank admission to respond.
“Yeah, I know – a double-dose of Crazy Bitch.”
Marisa flashed a sporting grin; but Julia knew this couldn’t be easy for her – confessing something so deeply personal to her former rival.
“I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression,” Julia admitted. “I’ve seen how people weaponize the word ‘crazy,’ especially against women. And then we don’t seek out the help we need because we don’t want to be labeled ‘crazy.’”
Marisa's mask of cheekiness dropped briefly, baring a hint of vulnerability as she studied Julia. It reminded Julia of Alison.
Finally, Marisa said, “Of course, Will had his own share of things he still needed to deal with.” Graciously, she didn’t add, like still being in love with you. “The saying ‘opposites attract’ did not apply to Will and me, but I still hadn’t accepted that when I accosted you.” Pinning her enormous brown eyes on Julia, she added, “I’m sorry for the things I said that day. I hope you’ll accept my apology and not feel any awkwardness about working around me, if the producers pick Dunphy’s.”
Stunned, Julia blinked a time or two before remembering her voice. “Thank you,” she managed. “Of course I accept your apology. You’ll get no awkwardness from me, either.”
Marisa blew out a breath and grinned again. “Good. Because if they do pick Dunphy’s, your aquarium is the only thing that's staying.”
Julia couldn’t help laughing again. “Honestly, I don’t blame you.”
Marisa flicked a critical eye around the dining room. “Seriously – rattan furniture and mauve wallpaper? Hideous, even when it wasn’t fraying and peeling.”
“Is there anything tackier than brass-and-smoked-glass light fixtures, though?”
“Honorable mention to postmodern Art Deco prints of generic coastal scenes.”
They cackled until Julia’s face burned and Marisa was nearly wheezing. “Well, this went better than expected,” Marisa admitted. Nodding toward the kitchen, she added, “You should probably go check on Will before he pulls his fingers out of their sockets. Does he still do that?” She tugged on her fingers and joints by way of explanation.
“Yeah,” Julia admitted, still laughing, as she pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen. She found William seated in the office, not tugging on his knuckles, but bouncing his knee up and down. He flinched when she entered, his eyes scrutinizing hers.
“Relax,” Julia chuckled. “It went great. I told you it would.”
A huge surge of breath exited his lungs, and he sagged in the chair. “You never know. ”
Julia tipped her head sideways. “She told me herself how things used to be, so maybe I’m not surprised you were worried. But I get the impression she’s grown since then, just like you and I have. Hopefully,” she added with a wink.
He unleashed a shaky laugh and rose to his feet. Advancing on her, he placed his warm hands on her upper arms. “We never stop growing. Hopefully .”
She rested her hands on his waist. “Do you know what today is?”
He played coy. “July Fourth?”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Besides that.”
“Oh, you mean the anniversary of me falling in love with you, courtesy of your conversion to Islam?”
Julia tossed her head back in laughter, recalling another Independence Day, nineteen years ago, when William visited her at Dunphy’s. She was working the hostess station, and true to her unfiltered self, she overshared about everything from her three-day adolescent dabbles in Islam, to her marine biology summer camp. “Don’t forget my enthusiasm for whale fecal plumes. That’s what really sealed it, wasn’t it?”
“That, and watching the fireworks light up your face.”
Julia felt the familiar old warmth radiating outward from her chest to the rest of her body. “Wanna make some fireworks of our own? For old times’ sake?”
“Excuse me, but I plan to make them for new times’ sake, too,” he balked. “Just maybe not with Marisa in the next room.”
Julia laughed again and pressed her ear to the front of his shirt, listening to his heartbeat accelerate. “Deal.”