CHAPTER TEN
Julia looked over her work. Everything gleamed.
The gold accents on the altar. The brass candle holders.
The wooden pews. The marble floor. Every surface that could be wiped, dusted, waxed, or polished had been cleaned.
If she had to eat off this floor, it wouldn’t be the worst thing she’d ever done.
A door banged open and the scent of the lilies on the altar wafted over her.
Father Sal’s face lit up as he walked in, his head on a swivel as he moved past the votive candles flickering in front of a statue of Saint Joseph.
He made his way along the communion rail toward the altar.
“Wow. Somebody’s been working,” he said, lifting his arms as he neared Julia.
Julia blew a lock of hair off her face. “Thanks, Father. It was hard.”
“I’ll bet,” he said. He put his hands on his hips, nodding as he scanned the altar. “Fantastic job. Just great. So, did I catch you at a good time? I don’t want to interrupt if you’re in the middle of something.”
“No, I’m done,” she said, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
Father Sal sat on the marble communion rail. “Take a seat,” he said.
The rail was cool. She glanced at Father Sal.
Same outfit every day. Silver-framed glasses.
Black pants. Black shoes. Black shirt. And, of course, his priest collar.
Black brought out the pepper in his salt and pepper hair and beard.
He usually looked amused, with a slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes.
But today he looked different. His shoulders sloped down and he seemed pained, as if he was carrying a great weight.
“So, how long have you worked here?” he said. “Almost a month, right?”
“Yeah. It’ll be a month tomorrow.”
“You like it?”
“It pays the bills.”
He laughed and readjusted himself on the rail. “I’m sure it does, but it’s not a very good job. No health insurance. No pension. Not much of a future. You ever think of doing something else?”
Julia crossed her arms. “Did I do something wrong?”
He touched her shoulder. “No. You’ve been great. What I’m trying to—”
“Am I getting fired?”
He took his hand off her shoulder. “Julia, what happened to your face?”
She touched her bruised cheek. “It’s nothing. So, when’s my last day?”
Father Sal was quiet for a moment.
“If I’m being fired, you can at least tell me why,” she said.
“You’re not being fired,” he said. Then he sighed. “But Sacred Heart is going through some changes. I just want to make sure you’re prepared.”
She watched him shift in his seat. “What do you mean, changes?” she asked.
Father Sal raised a hand. “All I’m saying is it would be in your best interests to look for something else.”
“Why?”
He took off his glasses and cleaned them. “I’m going to tell you something, but I trust that you’ll keep it confidential.”
Julia nodded.
“Sacred Heart is being merged with two other parishes. The diocese is closing us down.”
Julia looked away, focusing on the sun coming through the stained-glass window of the Virgin Mary. “Oh,” she whispered.
“Yes, oh,” he said.
“But what about the Bishop? Why would he come if they’re closing the church?”
“This is a recent development,” said Father Sal. “He’s coming, but only to talk about the merger and attend the picnic.”
“Great,” said Julia, rubbing her eyes. She looked at her hands. The middle knuckle on her right hand was cracked and crusted with blood. Maybe this was good. Maybe she wouldn’t be dousing her hands in bleach all day long at her next shitty job.
Father Salvatore stood. “I’m sorry, Julia. We’ll be laying people off in two weeks. If I were you, I’d find a new job before everyone else starts looking.” He patted her shoulder.
She sighed. “If we’re closing, a lot more people than me are losing their jobs. Why are you telling me?”
“The other employees have family in town. They’ll be fine,” he said. “You, on the other hand, are alone. You could use the head start.”
Julia watched Father Sal walk away, his voice trailing through the church. “If you can’t find work, let me know. I know some organizations that can help with food and temporary lodging. And please, take care of whatever caused that bruise. I’m guessing whoever put it there isn’t good for you.”
Then he was gone.
Julia pulled out her ponytail and shook her head, running her fingers through her hair.
A memory of Conor walking toward the altar, asking if she was okay, came to her.
She stepped toward the altar to pick up the bucket of cleaning supplies, then changed course, walking toward the exit.
“I’m on a real lucky streak,” she said. “My ex tried to rape me yesterday, and I lost my job today. Can’t wait to see what happens next. ”
Her black Ford Escort was so hot that the door handle burned her fingers.
She got in and pulled her shirtsleeve over her hand to roll down the window.
Long pants didn’t seem smart in this kind of heat until you had to sit on a seat that had been sizzling in the sun for the past five hours.
She started the car and cranked the air conditioning, sticking her face in front of the vent.
It took a few minutes, but the air conditioning finally put a dent in the heat.
She closed her window and backed out of her parking space, drumming her fingers on the blistering hot steering wheel.
A bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. She pulled out of the parking lot onto the street. The bell towers in her rearview mirror disappeared as she rounded a corner, driving through the heat of Brannigan toward home, unsure of—
Everything.
* * *
Conor carried an ice-cold six-pack into the shaded stairwell of his apartment complex.
He opened a can, drinking while he walked up the steps to his apartment.
Inside, he put the rest of the six-pack in the fridge next to a box of calcified baking soda.
Pressing the cold can against his forehead, he went out on his balcony.
It was so damn hot. He sat on an aluminum beach chair and wiped his face.
He still had to pack, but it could wait—at least until the sweat stopped pouring down his face.
Sipping his beer, he looked down at the parking lot.
Julia’s parking space was empty. He played with the pull tab on the beer can.
For whatever reason, he couldn’t get her out of his head.
He’d only known her what, three days? He stood and gripped the balcony railing.
What was it about her? Was it her looks?
Her attitude? Her hard-luck background? He’d always been a sucker for long dark hair and dark eyes.
Exhibit one was Sully’s sister, Mona. Julia had the same dark hair and eyes.
That definitely attracted him. But there was something else.
He wiped sweat off his brow and took a long pull on his beer.
Underneath it all, Julia had something that made her a rockstar.
A calm, almost playful, intelligence. Her smarts made her stand out.
It was there in the little stuff, like hanging out at the river.
Conor knew that if he’d taken Mona there, she would’ve thrown a hissy fit.
It would’ve been too dirty. Too dark walking under the bridge.
They never would’ve made it to the secluded pool where he and Julia sat and talked about their lives.
And the way Julia handled her ex, James, was nothing short of mind blowing.
The very thought of imagining that Julia—or any woman— would be able to overpower a man as big as James, tie him up, and gag him seemed impossible.
Add that to the way she overcame her background, kept her head down, and just kept moving forward, and you had someone very special.
Conor downed the rest of his beer. Yeah, Julia was a class of woman he’d never run into before.
And he’d do whatever it took to get closer to her.
He barely finished his thought before Julia’s car whipped into the parking lot. She pulled into her space under his balcony. He leaned over the railing as she opened her car door and stepped out.
“That was fast,” he yelled, lifting his can. “You want a beer?”
She looked up and shaded her eyes. “I just had the worst afternoon. All I want is a shower and a nap.”
“C’mon—just one?” said Conor, hanging over the rail.
She grinned, blinking into the sun. “And then can I take a shower?”
“Sure. Can I join you?”
Julia flipped him off, slung her purse over her shoulder, and walked toward the stairwell.
It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Julia told Conor what was up.
Her ex-boyfriend’s visit had freaked her out.
She told Conor about her panic attack when he’d come to check on her.
Although he was no psychiatrist, Conor could see she was still struggling.
Her hands and voice trembled slightly when she talked about James.
She was scared and he didn’t blame her. Having someone physically bigger and stronger stalking you couldn’t be fun.
“You know, he’s not coming back,” said Conor, glancing at Julia sitting in the beach chair next to his. “Not after the beating I gave him. Doesn’t that help?”
Julia drank her beer. She squinted. “I know that in here,” she said, tapping a finger on her head. “But something in here doesn’t believe it,” she added, tapping the same finger on her chest.
“I get it,” said Conor. “He hurt you. That can stick with you for a while.”
They sat in silence for a beat. Julia finished her beer. Conor handed her another.
“It’s so stupid,” she said. “I know he’s gone, but I’m constantly looking over my shoulder.”
Conor watched her tap the top of her beer can with a long fingernail painted black.
She slid the nail under the tab, and popped the can open.
He tilted his beer back, then wiped his mouth.
“You’re probably just freaked out because he knows where you live.
Maybe you’d feel better if you went somewhere else. ”
“If he found me here, he’ll find me anywhere.”
“True. Plus, you’d have to get a new job.”
Julia looked at him. “I have to do that anyway.”
Conor’s eyebrows raised. “Is that why Father Sal wanted to talk to you?”
She nodded.
“Damn,” said Conor.
“I know,” said Julia. “Nothing but bad news, right?”
Conor’s brow furrowed. He sipped his beer. Then he grinned. “Maybe it’s good news.”
“For who?”
“For you, if you want it to be,” said Conor.
Julia looked confused.
Conor turned his chair to face her. He laid a hand on her knee. “You don’t want to stay here because your ex knows where you live, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you got laid off from your job.”
“I did.”
“That means there’s nothing keeping you here. You could go anywhere. Live anywhere.”
Julia looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Conor, you do know I’m broke, don’t you?”
Conor leaned in. “But what if I wasn’t?”
Julia cocked her head. “Huh?”
He stood and gripped the balcony railing, looking out over the parking lot. “I’m leaving tonight. If you want, you can come. We could go anywhere you want.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” said Conor, turning to look at her.
Julia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She shut it, put her beer down, took a deep breath, and stood. “You’re saying you’re leaving and you want me to go with you?”
He nodded.
She stepped next to him. Her throat tightened. For some unexplainable reason, she felt like crying. She pushed the feeling down and gazed up at Conor. “Why?”
He kissed her. After the kiss, he laid his cheek against hers and whispered, “Why not?”