When Love Comes Knocking, page 17
Mom stared at me for a few seconds, cocking her head slightly. “You’re worried she’ll walk out of your life again?”
When I didn’t respond right away, Mom put her book down. “Talk.”
I swished the beer bottle, letting the contents swirl around before taking a long drink and setting the bottle down on the coffee table. I ran my fingers through my hair, scrubbing at my head before glancing over at Mom.
“She left before. Yes, she was pushed, and I understand now that this wasn’t really her fault. But now I have Sarah to think about. She’s already lost her parents and if she becomes attached to Julia, what happens to her when Julia goes back to her friends and life in Denver? Remember that whole ‘new purpose’ or such she said she was working on?”
Mom looked at me with something like sympathy crossing her face. “Sounds like something to talk to Julia about.”
I shrugged. “I actually talked to her. Well, while we were out on our ride, I mentioned I was worried about Sarah getting attached to a woman. She offered to stay away, but for some reason I told her it didn't apply to her.”
“Why did you tell her that?” Mom asked, shifting in her chair to face me more directly.
I ruffled my hair again and then caught myself.
“It just came out. We were talking about Brandy and that whole mess.”
“Ah,” Mom replied.
There were a lot of unsaid things in that simple word.
I pointed at Mom. “That reminds me. When I mentioned Brandy and my being attracted to her after not dating for so long, Julia snorted. When I pressed her on it, she said talk to you. On top of that, I recall Brandy saying something in her letter about seeing Julia and being both upset and flattered. What am I missing here?”
Mom sat back in her chair and cocked her head at me, giving me a puzzled look before she shook her head.
“You really don’t know?” she asked.
I shook my head no.
She rolled her eyes, throwing up her hands. “Amazing. Sometimes, you men are so clueless. Jake, except for her hair color, Brandy could have been Julia’s sister. Nikki and I noticed it right away. Hell, we thought you knew.”
I plopped back against the couch, stunned.
How could I have missed that?
Then again, I’d no idea what had drawn me to Brandy in the first place. Just something about her. Now that Mom had pointed it out so plainly, I realized it had been right in front of my face all along.
“Well… shit. How the hell did I not see that? You would think, given what happened, I’d have picked someone different.”
“Want my thoughts on it?” Mom asked quietly.
I nodded, waiting.
She sat her bottle on the end table next to the chair and stared down at her lap as her hands picked at an invisible spot on her jeans.
“I’ve told you a couple of times, but I’ll tell you again,” she replied as she looked up from her lap to gaze at me. “Even given what she did, and all the shit that happened, you still love her. In fact, I don't think it would take too much of a push for you to be in love with her again.”
I was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Not saying you’re right, but it doesn't change anything. She has something she has to do, and I’m obviously not a part of that. She’s moved on with her life and so have I.”
Bing.
Who would be texting me at this hour? I pulled my phone from my belt clip and clicked on the message icon.
Julia: You looked so cute.
Another message came in right on the heels of the first. This one was a photo of me sitting in a very small chair at a very small table. With a pink feather boa. And a flowery bonnet.
I glanced over at Mom and held the phone up for her to see. She barked a short laugh before covering her mouth. Her eyes were dancing with restrained laughter.
I cocked my eyebrow at her and grimaced. “Really? You two just had to take pictures. If you love me, you would delete those.”
“And give up awesome blackmail material? Not a chance, buster,” Mom replied, crossing her arms.
Giving up on Mom, I turned my attention back to the phone, whipping off a response.
Jake: Please delete that and never speak of it again.
Julia: No way. A girl never knows when a picture like that could come in handy.
Jake: If that picture ever sees the light of day, I will make you regret it.
Hell, that sounded lame even to me.
Julia: Want some cheese with that whine?
“Your cohort in picture blackmail won’t delete the picture,” I said, glaring at mom.
“She always was a smart girl.” she replied with no hint of guilt.
Bing.
Julia: I have three pictures of you. I will delete them on one condition.
Jake: And right to the blackmail we go. Classy.
Julia: The classics never fail you. I want something for each one.
Jake: Ow. What’s it going to cost me?
No reply came back. One minute became two and still no response. I sent out a one-word reply.
Jake: Julia?
It was another two minutes before the incoming bing.
Julia: I want a date for each picture.
My heart stuttered.
Holy shit.
I read her message three times before dropping my phone on my lap and rubbing my face briskly with both hands.
Dates. Not just a date. Dates.
Julia wanted to go out on an actual date.
Mom looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Julia wants to go on a date.” I said, my voice shaky, as I looked over at Mom.
Her eyebrow shot up.
“A date?” she asked, surprise in her voice.
I nodded. I couldn’t believe this. “Three, to be exact. One for each picture.”
Mom’s reply was interrupted by the bing of another incoming text.
For a moment, I let the phone sit there.
“What are you going to tell her?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
She leaned forward. “Do you want to go out with her?”
I looked at Mom, knowing that my face was pale. “Maybe?”
Julia had been a huge part of my life for so many years and the source of an incredible amount of pain when she left.
Did I really want to go down this road?
Mom’s comments circulated through my brain as I panicked.
I picked up my phone to read the text.
Julia: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Forget I asked.
Pulling my hand down my face, I knew it was time to shit or get off the pot. I began typing.
Jake: It’s okay. You caught me by surprise. Let’s try lunch Monday and go from there.
I hit send and waited. The response was back in seconds.
Julia: That would be great. Fargo’s?
Fargo’s Pizza in Colorado Springs. It was where we had our second date so many years ago. Julia loved the mirrors that covered the walls and the atmosphere. We’d held hands the entire time. Eating pizza one handed had been a challenge.
Jake: That works. Meet you there?
Julia: Sure. Noon?
Jake: That works for me.
Julia: Thank you, Jake.
Jake: Hey, I’m just trying to pay off a blackmailer.
I had to laugh at the small devil emoji paired with an angel emoji that appeared in my text window.
I dropped my phone on the couch beside me and stared off at the blank TV.
“So?” Mom asked.
“I’m meeting her at Fargo’s for lunch on Monday.”
“Pizza place down in the Springs?”
I nodded and glanced at Mom when she didn’t speak. I could see the wheels were spinning in her mind.
“Wait,” she said, “Isn’t that—”
I cut her off. “Yeah.”
She looked even more surprised than before. “Huh.”
I could only nod and wonder about what was going through Julia’s mind.
FOURTEEN
I stared at myself in the mirror as I pulled the razor down one side of my face and neck, the lather pushing in front like snow before a snowplow. A quick swish of the razor in the sink and I repeated the process. A dozen strokes later and I let the water run out, then turned on the faucet to rinse out the sink.
I cupped my hands under the flow and leaned down to splash my face a few times. I grabbed the towel laying next to the sink and dried off, raising up to watch myself in the mirror.
Shaving finished, I took stock of myself and considered the past few days.
I was meeting Julia for date number three tonight. Each of our previous two dates, spaced a couple of days apart, had been for lunch.
Fargo’s pizza had been a walk down memory lane. We’d spent the whole time talking about school, our dating history, and our high school friends. Nothing was ever mentioned about the marriage or the divorce. It was almost as if we had mutually agreed to stay away from those topics. She told me she was still seeing her therapist, but that was the only mention of the present.
The night ended with us coming together for a hug that lasted a bit longer than normal and a chaste kiss on my cheek that I swore I could still feel.
Date two had been lunch at Scott’s. When I tried to talk her out of it, she shushed me, telling me not to worry.
When we walked in, Jill glanced our way, turned back to her customer, and then snapped her head back at us, mouth hanging open. I’d nodded to her and then steered us to my usual booth against the back wall. I could feel all the eyes on us. I could only imagine the thoughts going through everyone's minds.
Julia, on the other hand, said hi to everyone she had known before the divorce. What should have been a few quick steps to our table indeed ended up taking several minutes as she caught up with everyone. Of course, most of them gave very short, polite answers, but it didn’t slow Julia’s enthusiastic greetings down in the least.
We slid into opposite sides of the booth and Jill was there before the cushions conformed to our butts. She and Julia were talking in such polite voices that it was almost sickening and even a little scary. It was like watching two cats move circles around each other, back arched, tails floofed out and hissing at each other, but fake smiles plastered on their faces.
Once Jill had taken our orders, Julia excused herself to the restroom. A few minutes later, Jill had come over, prepared to grill me, but Julia returned, motioning for me to move over so she could slide in beside me. Watching us, Jill quietly nodded and turned back toward the kitchen.
Like at Fargo’s, the discussion turned to memories of the past. We talked about when we had met here for a meal or had hung out here on the weekends sharing a milkshake or two. When Jill came back with our food, she looked at the two of us huddled together and laughing, rolled her eyes and walked back to the kitchen, telling Scott she was taking a break.
Scott, for his part, pretty much ignored us as he worked the counter and the kitchen.
That date ended much like the first one. This time, the hug was a bit longer, and the kiss lingered, catching the corner of my lips. After she was in her car, she handed me a slip of paper with an address on it. She said this was to be dinner. I was to meet her there at five and I should wear a suit.
And the dinner was what I was getting ready for now.
I finished in the bathroom and walked out into my bedroom to get dressed. Mom had taken Sarah to visit with Aunt Jessie, Mom’s sister, for the next week, so I had the house to myself.
As I dressed, my mind kept trying to sort out the confusing thoughts running through my head. Julia had left me and now she was back. I found myself thinking more and more about her each day. The dates had been nice, reminding me of the good times that existed before the divorce.
On one hand, I had enjoyed each date, falling back into an easy rapport with her. The feel of her in my arms at the end of each date had felt so right, and I’d really wanted that kiss on my cheek to have developed into more.
On the other hand, I’d spent the last two years getting over how broken I had been when she left. Then Brandy came along and hurt me in a whole different way, just compounding the mental injuries. And now, Julia was reinserting herself into my life, making it feel like the last two years were almost a dream. These last few weeks had been like being on a roller coaster that kept slamming me around in different directions.
I pulled up to the front of the restaurant fifteen minutes early. The building was an older design—no flashing neon signs or gaudy decorations. It appeared to be a simple brick structure with a single green awning over an inset wood and glass door. The glass was a smokey prism cut that prevented you from seeing inside.
Taking a deep breath, I entered and took in the place. The entrance lobby was enclosed so that you could not see into the dining areas. It was paneled in dark wood with several lit brass lanterns along the walls. Their gas flames flickered in hues of orange and blue and caused shadows to dance around the room.
The host was a middle-aged man wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black bow tie. He smiled as I stepped up to his small lectern.
“Good evening, sir. How may I assist you?”
I nodded at him. “Reservation for Attwood.”
He glanced down and I could see his eyes moving as he scanned something on the lectern. He looked up, giving me a small, concerned smile.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t show a reservation under that name.”
I mentally kicked myself.
“Sorry. Old habit. Try Winston.”
He looked down again and then back at me, a different smile gracing his face.
“Yes, sir, I have it here. Party of two. Would you care to wait in the bar for your guest, or shall I show you to your table?”
“Table, please.”
“Certainly, sir,” he replied.
I wasn’t certain how he did it, but the door opened and a young lady in a fitted black suit with a white half-apron opened the door and went to stand next to the host.
“Ah, Tori. Would you please show this gentleman to table twelve?” he asked.
“Of course. This way, sir,” she said as she opened the door to allow me to enter.
I stepped into the dimly lit room, and Tori stepped around me.
I was in a moderately large room. A small dance floor was located in the middle. What appeared to be recessed lighting in the ceiling illuminated the parquet wood floor.
Situated around the dance floor sat a series of small u-shaped enclosures, not unlike a booth. Inside each of the areas was an elegantly set table with two chairs. The whole setup would allow for secluded, intimate dining. Each area had a small brass sconce mounted on the wall to provide ambient light for the table.
Several of the tables were occupied and there were three couples dancing. The music was slow and muted, barely audible from where I was. I wondered if there were hidden speakers in the ceiling.
Tori led me to a table in the back of the room, on the opposite side of the kitchen, and waited for me to sit.
After I had settled in my chair, she spoke up. “Would you like anything from the bar while you wait?” she asked.
I considered for a moment before asking, “Do you have any beer?”
“Yes, sir. We have several on tap,” she replied and then listed them off for me.
I made a choice, and she nodded, then headed to the bar area. As soon as she disappeared, another waiter stepped in to pour water and provide a small dish of sliced bread.
I looked around, taking in the room and its appearance. It was by far the nicest place I’d ever been. I honestly felt a bit out of my element.
Tori arrived with my beer, set it in front of me, and then asked me if I needed anything else while I waited. I shook my head and she smiled and departed without any further questions. Picking up the tall beer glass, I admired the amber liquid inside, with a perfect white foam head on top. I took a small sip, enjoying the taste as I glanced around the room.
The couples that had been on the dance floor when I arrived had returned to their seats, but as I watched, another couple came out and started dancing. It was obviously a popular place for dancing. I didn’t think I had ever been somewhere that offered dancing during a fancy dinner like this.
I smeared butter on a small slice of bread and popped it in my mouth. It was good, really good, but not Mom’s-sourdough-good. Swallowing, I was reaching for my drink when movement at the front of the room caught my eye. The entrance door opened, and Tori came in, leading Julia.
I stopped breathing for a moment; I wasn’t entirely sure my heart hadn't paused as well in solidarity. Even with the low light in the room, there was no hiding the vision walking toward me.
Without thinking, I stood up.
Her long, soft hair was down and was laying across one shoulder, exposing her elegant neck on one side. I could see a small set of pearls laying against her throat, and I wondered if they were the ones I gave her on our wedding day so long ago. Her dress was form-fitting and came down to an inch or two above her knees. I wasn’t certain of the color, it could have been black or a deep blue, but it didn’t matter—she was stunning in it. She held a small sparkling silver purse in her left hand.
She was a goddess.
I looked at her and her eyes captured mine. The smile she gave me lit up her face and ignited a warm glow deep in my gut. Feelings that I had been fighting to control over the past couple of weeks exploded to life and raced through me. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears. I wasn’t sure if my mouth was hanging open, but it wouldn't have surprised me.
She glided toward me, and I could see the slight sway of her hips and the movement of the dress across other areas. The dress highlighted her smooth and toned legs. Unbidden images of those legs wrapped around me flashed through my mind. I felt my body respond to those thoughts, but I quickly tamped those flames down. This wasn’t the time for those urges to be satisfied.
Not yet.
Julia stopped before me. Her eyes drew me in and held me. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring, before she finally spoke.
“Jake?”
