Chapter Eleven
Oh. Shit.
Erin had a smile that slowly faded when she realized that Julia’s face was full of surprise and wide-eyed panic. She and Erin both opened their mouths at the same time to diffuse whatever was occurring without their permission.
“Erin!” Keegan appeared behind Julia. “Come in! So happy you found the place. We were just about to start the game.”
Julia stepped aside as Keegan graciously took the bottle of wine. She always went for the alcohol. Julia held the door open, thankful for the cold air to wipe the sweat off her forehead.
“Yes, please come in! I can take your coat.” Julia held out her hand as she pulled a hanger from the closet.
“Thank you,” Erin said, her lips barely pulling at the corners, awkwardness taking its hold.
“Keegan, I can help you get that on the chiller. Erin,” she turned and tried to give her most genuine smile, “make yourself at home.”
Keegan skillfully retrieved another glass from the cupboard while Julia focused on unscrewing the cork beside her. Erin hovered in the hallway, observing the time capsule she stepped into. Julia didn’t want to think about what ran through her head as she studied each photograph.
“What the hell,” Julia whispered. She never picked her eyes up from the bottle, too afraid she might throttle Keegan if she met her smug expression.
“She doesn’t know anyone in the area, and I figured we could get a better sense of what she plans on putting in her reports far,” she whispered back, still not making eye contact.
“Oh?” Julia nonchalantly looked up. “That’s why you invited her here?”
“Mhm,” she said as she nodded, the weight of unspoken intentions hanging between them.
“Keegan, I literally sign off on her reports.” Julia’s jaw tightened as her coarse voice floated between them. “No hidden agenda?”
“Me?” gasped Keegan, just a little too loud. “Never.”
Erin turned towards them but then walked farther down the picture lined hallway towards the bedrooms. Julia could see her in her peripheral vision. She fought to hide her mortification.
“You didn’t think that it would be hard enough working professionally with someone I met out? That I may not want them in my house?” Julia asked, her voice a deep glacier iceberg.
“Fair.” Keegan’s face was all composure as she tipped the wine into the glass.
“I could kill you right now.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m irreplaceable.” She looked up, an almost indiscernible smile pulling her cheekbones tighter. “Let’s play nice and just get to know each other a little more. Shall we?”
“I shouldn’t have told you anything,” Julia’s voice was taut with betrayal and regret.
Keegan just tilted her head and shook it as she strolled back towards Erin with the only thing that mattered to her on Sundays: wine.
“Thank you.” Erin reached for her glass, taking a sip as she looked around.
Embarrassment flushed across Julia’s face, fueled by a potent mixture of other emotions. It could’ve been her that night weeks ago on the sidewalk in front of the pizzeria, its raw intensity overwhelming her senses still. It could’ve been the fact that no one had ever seen her cry like that, not even Keegan. It could’ve been that her walls were still lined with Marin’s face, a shrine to a life once loved. It could have been the vulnerability of Erin now, knowing exactly what Julia lost.
“Any trouble finding the house?” Keegan asked, motioning to the couch, but no one moved.
“Not at all! It was such a lovely drive over the hills.”
“Yeah, it’s tucked really nicely away from the bustle,” agreed Julia, not yet able to let go of the taint in her voice.
There was a break in conversation, everyone unsure of where to go next. Julia took a not-so-graceful gulp of her wine.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Keegan chimed, already halfway down the hall as Julia tried to casually beckon her back. “I’ll be right back,” she called. Julia’s eyes shot the back of her head with daggers.
“Please come sit.” Julia motioned Erin towards the couch. She followed, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa.
“I’m going to guess that she didn’t tell you she invited me.” She grinned, breaking the tension. Julia let out a strained chuckle. “She told me it was your idea.”
“Well,” Julia replied, smiling because she simply can’t help it around this woman, “Keegan gets a lot of ideas.”
“I’m sorry if I’m imposing, I–”
“No, don’t worry about it. It’s just a football game and some good conversation.”
“That sounds perfect for a Sunday.”
“This is what friends do, right?” Julia gulped her wine again.
“We’re friends now?” Erin’s eyes glimmered with amusement.
Oh, shit.
“I didn’t mean to assum–”
“That was a joke.” Erin grinned and that satin chuckle wrapped Julia in such a lulling comfort.
“I wanted to apologize for the craziness of this week,” Julia began.
“What do you mean?”
“I had a lot of meetings come up and I know we didn’t get to touch base as much as we had before.” Did Erin even notice? Was it all in her head, the time they spent together before?
“Things come up. You’re a busy woman.” She looked around the room, taking in the lost life she stepped into. A wedding picture hung above the office desk to the left, just in eyesight, and her gaze lingered there. “She’s beautiful.”
Julia wished she was liquid–wished she could soak right through the couch and drip through the cracks in between the hardwood. There was something about talking about your not-wife’s beauty with a woman you’d kissed. Something about the way that no matter how many times they said professional, something lurked in the distance.
Suddenly, Julia found herself wishing she grew a spine and took those pictures down months ago. How much would be different today if she had? Would she have gone home with Erin that night? If she buried her misguided hope in the backyard underneath the Red Maple tree, would she have taken that leap?
She should have. She should’ve torn those pictures off the wall, shattering the glass and breaking the frames of every single one when Marin left. She should’ve burned the rest of her clothes and torched their pictures.
That’s what mad, brokenhearted passion does to a person, right? She should’ve been angry enough to let go of everything that had her fingerprints embedded in their atoms. She should’ve hated her for leaving, for giving up.
That’s what stung so much: Marin gave up. She threw in the towel, forfeited even though they still could have made it. We could have made it. Even though it happened before her eyes, it was still hard to believe. Because that long together, that much love, couldn’t possibly be gone that fast.
Hope. Hope is what tied those pictures to the wall with invisible chains.
She never could hate Marin. God, she tried. They had so many good years, so many nights curled on that couch reading smutty novels while Julia breathed in her auburn hair. She didn’t smell like magnolias and honeysuckle like Erin. Marin smelled like cinnamon, something hot and spicy to warm the soul on a frigid winter night. She smelled like comfort, like home for the holidays.
They gave each other the best parts of themselves, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. Their love, when it was the type of love that sent them dancing around the house in their pajamas on an early Wednesday morning in each other’s arms, was something that poets write books about. Until it wasn’t. Until it was a fragmented, unfinished poem that only the writer could discern.
Maybe at another time, maybe at another point in their lives, maybe in another life they could have made it. They could have held on just a little longer. That love, knowing that they had something some people go their whole lives without tasting even once, that was what kept those pictures nailed to the wall.
Fucking hope. If Julia could write a review on hope, she’d give it zero stars. Wouldn’t recommend: results in unnecessary drinking and an expensive mortgage. All that on top of two decades she’d never give back? Why the hell is there a Hallmark Channel? It’s false advertising.
“She was.” Julia smiled painfully, even with her attempts she tried to hide it.
Erin didn’t say anything about having them up still, about how long they must have been there. There was so much that Erin didn’t make her explain, so forgiving in ways that she didn’t deserve.
Keegan tiptoed around the corner as if she wasn’t sure what she would be walking into. “So, let’s get to the game!”
They sat around the coffee table full of food, drinking wine as they screamed at the television for each bad call. By the end of the second quarter they finished several glasses, their speech just slightly slurring.
Julia leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. Erin shouted about a fumble by the Miami Dolphins that would cost them the game, and Keegan laughed because somehow the Buffalo Bills were sneaking back up on the scoreboard.
She sunk just a little deeper into the cushions as she took another sip–the noise, a chaotic weighted blanket. When she opened her eyes, she saw Keegan leaning closer to the television as a reporter waited for the most recent penalty flag.
Erin wasn’t looking at the television; she was looking past Keegan’s back directly at Julia, a subtle curl to her lips and twinkle in her eyes. Julia sat up a little straighter, pointing her direction to the television as she brought her glass back to her lips. There was something enticing, almost seductive, about those trailing eyes.
“So, Erin,” Keegan began to ask, “how does someone so young become the head specialist of a multi-million-dollar corporation? One to evaluate one of the most prestigious schools in New York State?”
It sounded like a question, but really it was an accusation and Julia almost choked on the wine still pressed to her lips. Keegan, however, never took her eyes off the TV. Julia really should have considered getting out a little more and finding new friends.
“Keegan,” Julia gasped, her tone she was sure matched her incredulous expression.
“What?” she defended, still not making eye contact as she picked up another popper and stuffed it into her mouth.
“That really isn’t an appropriate question.”
“No, it’s okay,” Erin cut in, full of unfazed confidence. “I’m twenty-five, if that was your question.” Keegan looked up, utterly stunned. “I was fortunate to have opportunities to graduate early, finishing my master’s in less than a year.”
Julia’s mind spun. It took the time of Erin finishing the last sentence for her age to sink in. She was just slightly older than she was when she met Marin. Twenty-five?!? Not a flirty, sun-kissed, thirty something. Two and five, as in almost fifteen years younger than Julia. Fuck.
“How did you move through the company so fast?” Keegan asked, intently intrigued as she leaned back into the cushion.
“Hard work.” Erin smirked, lifting her wine glass to her rosy lips.
If it wasn’t for the complete awe Julia was in just from that woman’s age, she would’ve been impressed.
“That is quite a list of accomplishments,” Julia tried to smile, to steady her voice, but Erin’s eyes squinted with curiosity as if she saw past it. Double fuck.
“When I know what I want, I go for it.”
Her eyes never left Julia’s and they held thousands of tiny possibilities, an entire galaxy full of shining stars waiting for their moment to shoot across the midnight sky. That final gaze, that final purse of her lips as her eye glistened. She felt it too.
“I would have guessed you were in your thirties!” Keegan didn’t meet either of their eyes, oblivious to the tension flickering across the room. She picked at the wings on the table and leaned forward again as she continued, “I mean, you definitely intimidate me.”
“Thank you for saying I look older than I am,” laughed Erin. “I guess this is why women shouldn’t ask about other women’s ages.” All three chuckled for a moment, but Julia couldn’t find the will to release tenseness in her shoulders. “Wait, did you just say I intimated you? Like Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada?”
And just like that, all three of them laughed again and Julia’s tension was gone.
“If the shoe fits,” Keegan joked, holding a hand over her full mouth. “I mean, you’re more Anne Hathaway at the end than Meryl in the beginning.”
They let the moment pass, but all Julia could think about while watching colors flash before the screen, her hand still gripped around her glass, was the mistake she almost made with Erin in that bar bathroom. A mistake she still wanted to make.
“Julia, what are you turning this year?” Keegan grinned. Julia immediately sat up, ready to stop Keegan from saying anything else, but before she could, she blurted, “is it the big four-oh?”
Embarrassment did not cover her feelings. Pure horror was more like it. She felt like she was in one of those recurring nightmares–the kind when you show up to class in 6th grade in nothing but your underwear and even the teacher is laughing at you.
Well, it was good they agreed on plutonic professionalism because she was sure Erin would regret every interaction they ever had. Her already self-conscious body wouldn’t be enough. There wasn’t a person in the entire world she thought deserved someone like Erin.
“Forty?” Erin gasped and Julia fell back onto the couch, wishing it would pull her right through into oblivion.
Worrying about how she was going to stop daydreaming about Erin’s smile wouldn’t be a problem anymore. There wouldn’t be any flirty eyes with her, knowing how many years were actually between them.
“Forty,” she repeated, covering her blushed face.
Erin, completely unbothered, leaned forward on her crossed legs. “You are stunning.”
A devilishly sexy smile tugged at her eyes. If the embarrassment didn’t flush Julia’s cheeks, that comment certainly did. Keegan just sat back, pretending to still watch the television. Julia’s eyes were wide, pleading for a change in conversation.
“Where did you get this amazing dip?” Erin’s eyelashes fluttered as she dunked another carrot in.
“I made it.”
“You did not!” She put her plate down.
“I did,” Julia said with a nod, thankful for her perceptibility.
“Little Miss Martha Stewart!” Keegan teased. “She made all of this from scratch.”
“What else would I do with my time?”
“Paint?” Erin answered quietly, so quietly that she wasn’t even sure Keegan had heard.
“Actually!” Keegan, still clueless, stood and topped off Julia’s glass with the last of the merlot. She knew that no one else’s glass was quite as low; no one else needed the courage to make it through the night.
“Here we go.” Julia slumped back onto the couch again. “What’s your idea this time?”
“You get ideas a lot?” Erin asked, a small chuckle arising from her throat.
“Well,” Julia sat up and leaned on the plush pillow between them, “there was the book club you talked me into and then you stopped going after the first week. Oh, and then there was the knitting group that didn’t consist of anyone who still had their real teeth.”
“Oof, you do need better ideas,” said Erin, but Julia had even more examples.
“I second that!” Julia raised her glass and clinked it with Erin’s.
“It isn’t gang up on Keegan time!” she huffed.
“But this is working out quite well. I like having reinforcements.”
“I’m just trying to get you out of the house more.” Keegan rolled her eyes.
“What’s this idea?” Julia asked, “but before you tell me, I want the record to show that I do not need help spending my free time.”
“Right,” Keegan said, nodding sarcastically. “You need all the time to yourself, so you can make all the crap I’m too lazy to make.”
“Exactly.”
“That was sarcasm,” Keegan sighed. “What are you doing on Saturday next week?”
“Why?” Julia asked skeptically, turning the television down just a notch. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I have plans.”
“You never have plans,” Keegan scoffed.
“That’s,” Julia dragged out the word, “not entirely incorrect.”
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“Probably the usual.” Julia shrugged. “I have some evaluation notes I have to get caught up on. A few more applications to weed through for transportation.”
“Those aren’t plans, Julia. That’s work. Ben and I are going to that new Italian place on Chestnut Street,” she began.
“That sounds like fun for you two,” Julia cut in, wanting desperately to turn the conversation back on her for once.
“And,” Keegan continued, “you’re coming too!”
“And why would I want to be the third wheel listening to you fight with your husband?”
“Because you’re our double date,” she said, grinning mischievously.
Julia’s eyes went wide as Erin held back a loud laugh. She didn’t even try to hide it.
“You’re what?”
“Double da–”
“I know what you said, Keegan. With whom?”
Julia gulped down the rest of her wine, reaching for the chardonnay next. She’d need it. You know those barrels they age wine in? Might as well just leave one on the front porch. Did she still have some vodka stuffed in the back of the liquor cabinet? Maybe that would be more appropriate.
“A friend of Ben’s from work.”
Keegan should have been born a blond. She invited Erin over to get to know her better, to find out more about her. Well, that’s what she claimed. Really, she just wanted Julia to see her outside of work, to allow those feelings she confessed to root a little deeper.
And yet? A double date? Mercy. Please, have mercy.
“You are trying to set me up with a boring marketing executive?” Julia’s voice was unknowingly a shout. She couldn’t hide her frustration, her betrayal.
It isn’t that she was truly mad; she was just appalled that Keegan thought that moment would be a good time to tell her. Even if Erin wasn’t there, it wasn’t like the last few blind dates she set her up on went well.
“You promised me after that ridiculous debacle with your soccer mom friend that you would stop setting me up!”
Erin sat back, amusement written in plain Times New Roman text across her face. She had snacks, a good drink, and a front-row seat to the most interesting show around town. Maybe there would be shouts, maybe tears, maybe laughs. Who knew!
“I have to hear about this soccer mom,” Erin interjected with a wink for Julia.
“You will hear about nothing,” Julia argued, holding back a smile. She turned back towards Keegan, who was mischievously still staring at the game. “Who is it this time?”
“Ben’s partner, Lauren.”
“Lauren? Stick up her ass, Lauren?” Julia choked.
“She’s your type,” said Keegan.
“Stick up her ass is Julia’s type?” Erin laughed.
“I don’t have a type,” Julia retorted.
“Apparently stick-up-your-ass is your type.”
“Bah!” Keegan laughed. “You so have a type!”
“I can see you having a type,” Erin replied with a smile, enjoying every moment of the torture.
“Really?” Julia leaned in closer, determined to prove her wrong. “What exactly do you think my type is?”
Erin gracefully fell back onto the cushion as she studied Julia. She tilted her head slightly to the left, her lips pressed into a subtle smile. Her pink sweatshirt draped over her thin frame as she tucked her legs beneath her.
She held a posture that suggested she’d been there before, like she’d sat in that very chair with the same company and had this conversation already. Julia was wrapped in her presence again. She couldn’t name it–couldn’t put a finger on exactly where it came from or what it meant. She sat there and smiled, her eyes just as glossy as Erin’s lips.
“That is a tricky question,” she said, grinning.
“I’m a pretty simple person,” Julia argued, and then both Erin and Keegan erupted in laughter. “That’s so not nice!”
“You are anything but simple,” said Erin.
“How so?”
“Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve found you to be the most intriguing and complex person I’ve ever met.” Erin spoke slowly, calculatedly choosing each word that fell from her flawless lips.
Her eyes were placed on Julia as if Keegan wasn’t even there–a single ray of sunshine peeking through heavy purple clouds.
“I promise you, I am nowhere near as mysterious and complicated as that.” Julia tried to break up the moment with a chuckle, but her voice was too quiet for casual conversation.
“I said complex, not complicated,” Erin corrected.
“Well, if I’m so complex,” Julia held down a gulp as she tried to sound interested and not argumentative, “what’s my type?”
“Hmm.” Erin hummed, taking a sip of her wine. Why was that little head cock so damn cute? “You like strong women–someone who can hold their own. Someone who wants you but doesn’t need you.” She paused as she studied her more, her eyes stripping layers of clothing off like an extraterrestrial radiograph. “Someone who takes your breath away, even though you wouldn’t admit it.” Her lips parted as if she wanted to go on, but Keegan interrupted.
“I don’t disagree! See, Lauren will be a great fit. She’s cut throat in her office and then goes home and helps Habitat for Humanity build houses.” Keegan turned towards Julia, pleadingly fluttering her lashes. “She’s actually pretty nice! Not too bad to look at either.”
“That’s not quite what I said.” Erin’s eyebrows arched as she took another drink.
“Well–” Keegan began.
“I’m sure she is nice,” said Julia through a forced smile. “Cancel it.”
“She’s hot too,” she added, as if that piece of information would help.
“Keegan,” Julia warned, “cancel it!”
“But she’s hot,” Erin cooed.
“I can’t cancel it. Ben already told her, and she’s excited to meet you.” Keegan’s eyes were pleading.
“She only helps build those houses for publicity, Keegan!”
She shrugged. “It’s still a good act.”
“You couldn’t have set her up with someone else?” begged Julia.
“How many lesbians do I know?”
She had a point. Even on the outskirts of the city, there weren’t many out and about lesbians. The city of Kleinton was all about the perfect picture, and that didn’t quite fit.
“Keegan,” Julia sighed.
“But no one would knock her socks off like you,” she defended. Erin was mid sip, and she choked at the thought.
“How do you knock socks off?” Erin grinned, placing her glass back on the table. She enjoyed her torture too much, soaking up the way Julia fidgeted her legs.
“This is so not funny, you two.”
“But,” Keegan chimed in, “we’re having fun!”
“I’m not doing it,” she stated, rolling her hazel eyes as she slumped back into the couch, “but even if I did allow you this last one, it’s not happening next week.”
Keegan’s phone buzzed on the table, slightly jostling their glasses. She picked it up, adjusting her reading glasses and sighing at the sight of Ben’s name on the tiny five-inch screen.
“I’m going to take this in the guest room,” she said, already standing and moving towards the hallway.
When the door clicked in the distance, Erin took a seat closer on the couch beside Julia. The redistribution of weight sent flutters inside her, just knowing Erin was that much closer.
“Do you go on a lot of blind dates?”
“No,” she sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to go on any! Keegan does not have a career in matchmaking.”
“Soccer mom wasn’t your type?”
“Very funny! Neither was the parent of one of my 10th graders or the finance paralegal.”
“Finance paralegal? Sounds sexy.”
“Ugh,” exhaled Julia, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Not when the only thing she wanted to talk about is how so few know the alphabet well enough to correctly file their advising financial transactions.”
“So, why do you do it?”
She tilted her head interestingly, just like so many times before. Julia never understood why she puzzled Erin so much. There was something adorable in the way she got a little curious wrinkle between her eyes, as if it was paper mache lovingly smoothed over.
“You don’t know Keegan. It is far easier appeasing her instead of hearing her complain about how you didn’t do it for months.”
“That’s fair.” Erin slid a little closer and Julia pretended not to notice. “If you’re willing to do that, why don’t you go out with someone you might actually want to date, since she sucks at setting you up so much?”
Julia thought about it for a moment. The idea quite literally never crossed her mind. She had no interest in fanning conversation over a ridiculously expensive salad. It felt tediously exhausting. She had so much better things to do with her time. Well, we’ll just go with that excuse.
“I’m too old for dating,” Julia joked instead.
“Stop it!” They laughed for a moment, the game still playing in the background. There was a brief silence, neither sure how to fill it. “If I asked you out on a date,” she paused, “like a date, date… What would you tell me?”