Chapter 19
Night Six
Julian
Julian pretended to sleep on the chaise while Betty flipped through her phone, leaving the clatter and sociability to Sybil, Zeke and Sybil’s friend.
He was trying to be delicate with Betty, rely on his instincts and not push her.
He didn’t come off like a people person, he knew, but that’s what often lulled people into a sense of security with him: He was like white noise in the background of their confessions.
It wasn’t until they stopped oversharing that they realized they’d overshared at all.
He fluttered his eyes open just a crack to watch Betty. She dug her hand into her pocket and retrieved a business card, then rested it on her lap and chewed the side of her lip. Suddenly, she sat up straighter, typed furiously into her screen, and he heard the swish of the sent text.
“Shit,” she whispered, and he pressed his eyes closed so she wouldn’t think he’d been spying. “Fuck,” she said louder, and now he pretended to rouse.
“You okay?”
She startled like she’d forgotten he was lying on the lounger beside her. Exactly as Julian had expected.
“What? Oh. Um. Yes.”
“Want to go inside? My bones are getting chilly.”
“How did your wife die?” Betty asked instead. It was blunt but not surprising coming from her. She hadn’t been raised attending cotillion.
He took a sharp breath in.
“Cancer,” he said. “How about your own parents?” He watched her carefully.
“Oh.” She paused and then looked appropriately bereft. “Farming accident.”
“That couldn’t have been easy.”
“I had four older siblings to raise me,” she said. “At least I wasn’t alone.”
“And where are they now?”
“Other than my brother Levi, I think they are all still in the exact same place I left them. North Carolina.” She fidgeted with her hands.
“Too cold?”
“A little.” Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it and concealed a grin when she read whatever had come in.
“That looks like good news,” Julian said.
She shook her head like she already regretted it. “A boy. Something dumb.”
“They usually are.”
She laughed at this and then so did he.
“Your siblings, are you guys in touch?”
She caught herself for a moment. “Maybe like you and your daughter are. Not like you should be, but not like you aren’t at all.”
It was a masterful answer, Julian thought. Betty was very good at this; probably had a lot of practice over the years. Her fatigue hadn’t made her brain any less sharp, which was important to keep in mind.
“You get home often?”
She fixed her smile so she looked perfectly tranquil, perfectly unbothered.
“It’s expensive to travel. Until Mr. All-Star came along, need I remind you that I was living in an apartment that may or may not have been declared a hazardous site by the government?”
“Hopefully next week’s surgery fixes Mr. All-Star up and he can get back to it,” Julian replied.
Her face dropped. “Oh, do you think he’ll ask me to leave once he’s better? Back with the team?”
“No,” Julian said plainly. “I think Zeke is lonely, like all of us, and having the best arm in the National League isn’t going to change that, even if it’s back in working order.”
“I don’t want to look like I’m overstaying my welcome,” Betty said. “I really am okay on my own.”
Julian wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t have to be. Instead, he said, “No, this gives you the chance to save up. To visit your family.”
“Well, Natalie thinks I’m an actor’s actor, so maybe I’ll be rich and famous one day. Have my private jet on standby.” She grinned. She was so talented, so adept, so agile. It was hard to knock Julian’s socks off but consider his knocked. “I actually don’t even know what an actor’s actor is.”
“It’s someone who takes her craft seriously. In it for the art, not just the dazzle.”
“Oh.” Betty’s face went pensive, her mouth a frown, her eyes thoughtful. “Actually, you know what, maybe that’s exactly what I am.”
“I need a cider refill,” he said, pushing to his feet. He felt his right knee pop into its socket on his way up. “But for what it’s worth, I agree. I suspect you are a better actor than anyone gives you credit for.”