Julia, page 15
“Did you really tell Charlie all that about me?” Julia asked, drawing away but keeping his hand in hers.
“I’ve written pages about you to my brother,” he said. “But it’s time to stop talking about my brother. We only have a few days until I leave. Let’s go splurge at Ho-Teh-Foo.”
Ho-Teh-Foo had become their favorite restaurant in Kunming, and since Julia was pretty much a Chinese food fanatic now, she agreed without a second thought.
As they drove, they got onto the subject of French food, which Julia said she’d never tried—at least nothing authentic.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten French food,” he said.
Julia laughed because his tone was so serious. “All right, I’ll have to take your word for it since I’ve gotten along fine so far.”
“One day, I’ll prove it to you,” he said in a lighter tone.
Julia knew he was teasing, but a small thrill ran through her nonetheless at the thought of any future world that might feature eating French food with Paul Child.
By the time they reached the restaurant, she was good and hungry with all their talk of food—Chinese, French, or otherwise.
The place was busy and crowded and smelled delicious.
“I think I’m hungry enough to order everything on the menu,” Julia said.
“Go ahead,” Paul said. “I’m buying, and we can take the leftovers to our friends. They’re probably huddled over the radio as we speak.”
So they ordered until their small table was crowded with steaming dishes. Julia tried it all, from the egg-drop soup to fried spring rolls, Yunnan ham mixed with cabbage, and Peking duck on a platter of noodles to beets, mushrooms, and the list went on.
The meal was absolutely perfect, and in Julia’s mind, so was Paul.
She didn’t realize how much she could miss a person until Paul left for Peking. She’d known it was coming, but that didn’t make it easier. Nothing was sufficient enough to distract her from the aching longing that seemed to plague her night and day. Was this love? True love? She didn’t know what else it could be.
She wrote letters to her family and friends back home at night, knowing there wouldn’t be time to receive replies from them. Still, she’d hoped for something from Paul but wasn’t surprised when no letters arrived. Before she knew it, she had been given her discharge order, and soon, she’d be on her way back to the United States.
She flew back over the Hump to Calcutta and ended up getting stuck there for over a week, where she had to live in a small room with five other women. The living conditions were so tight that she looked forward to getting on a ship soon—any ship.
Julia was relieved to set sail with two of her best friends, Ellie and Rosie, and discovered Rosie was newly engaged to Thibaut.
Their journey aboard the troopship General Stewart, transporting 3,500 people, had very sparse accommodations. Reveille was at 5:00 a.m., and taps sounded at 9:00 p.m. Julia and her friends wore the most basic, worn-out clothing and didn’t care a fig about their hair or makeup. Nothing like the journey on the SS Mariposa.
“I can’t believe we’re finally on our way,” Ellie said to Julia, coming to stand beside her by the railing. “We have to plan something once we land.”
They both glanced over at Rosie, who was ignoring the approaching shoreline of Colombo, Ceylon, and reading a book.
“You’re right,” Julia said. “Rosie will only have eyes for her fiancé. What should we do?”
“I know.” Ellie smiled. “We’ll take a cab to New York City’s famous restaurant, the 21 Club.”
“Sounds delightful to me.” Julia gazed at the Colombo bay before them as the ship moved toward the harbor to refuel. The docks were packed with all types of ships, including freighters and warships. She watched the bustle of activity and felt the warm breeze tickle the hair at the nape of her neck. It had been nearly eighteen months since she’d first arrived in Colombo. She had been a different girl back then.
“Oh, and I’ll need a perm straightaway,” she said, touching her flyaway hair. “If any of it is even salvageable. I don’t want to attempt visiting Paul in DC until I look human again.”
“You’ll look wonderful in no time, well before Paul makes it to Washington,” Ellie said.
Julia released a sigh. “He probably wouldn’t recognize me if I do too much. Besides, who knows if Paul of Washington will like Julia of Pasadena.”
Ellie linked their arms. “I’m rooting for you both.”
So was Julia. “And I’m rooting for you and your major.”
Ellie’s cheeks pricked pink. She’d met British Major F. Basil Summers in Chongqing, and Ellie was hoping for a proposal and a ticket to England—sooner rather than later.
Once they reached New York Harbor, both Julia and Ellie made good on their promise. They didn’t care if they were bedraggled or ship worn. They wanted something to eat that wasn’t out of a can. But the news that greeted them on US shores was sobering, with reports detailing the indictment of twenty-four Nazi government officials and organizations. The Nuremburg trials were set to start November 20. Julia would be happy to see justice served, but reading about the terrible war crimes made her soul feel heavy.
Her first night spent at the Brighton Hotel in Washington, she slept fitfully. When she awoke, she felt tired and foggy-brained. But Ellie reminded her that they were going to get perms, and by the end of their hair appointment, Julia had recovered somewhat.
Together they made their way to the Q Building and found the structure familiar yet strange at the same time. Had the past two years really happened overseas? Nothing here seemed different. She and Ellie filled out their triplicate discharge forms and took their final physical exams.
When they walked out of the building together, they paused on the sidewalk, with traffic inching its way along the street and pedestrians bustling about them.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ellie asked.
“I would love it, but I think I need to do this myself.” Paul had given her Charlie’s address and said that when she arrived, she should stop by in the evening. He’d be staying there once he made it to DC.
Julia could only guess if he was in DC right now, but she’d find out soon enough.
“Oh, wait,” Ellie said. “I picked up our mail.”
“Mail?”
Julia stared as Ellie drew out a battered envelope from her bag. “One letter from Paul.”
Julia snatched it, and Ellie laughed. The envelope looked like it had been around the world twice.
“I’ll leave you to it, and don’t worry, Paul will think you look like a confection all dolled up.” Ellie grinned. “See you back at the hotel.” She gave Julia a brief hug and walked away.
That left Julia to find a cab and time to read the letter alone. Inside the envelope was a short, hurried note, but the words were a balm to her aching heart.
Beloved Julie,
At the risk of sounding trite, I wish you were here. I need you to enjoy these marvels with, and I miss your companionship something awful. Dearest Julie, why aren’t you here, holding my hand and making plans for food and fun!
Love, Paulski
The letter was dated a month ago. He must have written it soon after arriving in Peking. She read the letter again, and a third time, then analyzed the salutation. He’d used their nicknames, he’d written “love,” and he missed her.
She smiled the entire ride into Georgetown, and when the cab pulled in front of 1311 Thirty-Fifth Street, she said, “Can you wait for me? I won’t be long.”
It would give her an excuse to have a short stay, and if Paul was there, he could visit her later at the Brighton Hotel. She didn’t want to feel like a bug under a microscope around his brother and family.
Knocking on the painted door, she felt her pulse zip higher and higher. She heard footsteps, then a woman’s voice, and suddenly, the door swung open. The woman standing on the threshold was probably in her thirties and had to be Freddie. Her red hair was as bright as a sunrise, and her freckles nearly matched Julia’s. She was several inches shorter than Julia, which most people were.
“Hello, I’m Julia McWilliams, and I’ve come to introduce myself. I’m friends with Paul Child.”
The woman’s face broke into a wide grin. “Julia! We’ve been waiting for you.”
Right there on the stoop, Freddie gave her a tight hug.
“Come in, come in. Dinner is about to start, and I’ll set an extra place.” Freddie turned halfway toward the hallway. “Charlie! Paul! We have a visitor.”
Paul. She’d called for Paul. He was here? He was here!
Julia barely had time to register the information and draw in a breath when two men walked into the hallway—twin men. She could tell them apart immediately, but the likeness was still uncanny. Charles was a bit stockier, and more of his hair had receded compared to Paul’s.
And Paul . . . He was deeply tanned.
“What did you do? Sunbathe all day while on the ship?” Julia blurted out.
Paul laughed and crossed to her, then kissed her cheek.
Julia’s heart warmed at his familiar scent of musky soap.
Paul turned to his brother and sister-in-law. “Charlie and Freddie, I’d like you to meet Julia McWilliams.”
Charlie extended his hand. “The famous Julia. So pleased to finally meet you.” His tone was warm, his gaze earnest.
“Please, stay for dinner, won’t you?” Freddie said.
But Julia couldn’t bring herself to say yes. She wanted to, but she wanted more to have Paul all to herself. Until she knew what was going on between them, she didn’t want to become invested in his family. She sensed it would only bring more heartache.
“My cab is waiting since I have another appointment,” she said. “Tomorrow, I’m going to Pittsfield to see my brother and his wife, along with a visit to my mother’s sister, Theodora. I wanted to meet everyone before I head back to Pasadena. Paul has told me so much about you both.”
She could see the disappointment in Paul’s eyes, and that made her feel both guilty and pleased at the same time. Maybe his letter to her, with its endearments, was still true?
They chatted for a few moments, then Julia insisted that she had to leave.
“I’ll walk you out,” Paul said.
Well, she couldn’t turn down that offer. They headed outside, with Paul closing the door behind them. The neighborhood was quiet, and only a handful of cars were on the street. The cab driver was waiting, his windows rolled down as he smoked and read a newspaper.
“I’m so glad you came,” Paul said, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “Do you really have to run off?”
Julia stopped, too, and faced him. “I do. I’m glad I was able to meet some of your family though. Your brother and his wife are lovely people.”
Paul touched her arm. “You aren’t upset with me, are you?”
“No—no, nothing like that.” Julia smiled, trying to reassure him. “I received your letter, dated a month ago. They were sweet words and gave me a lot of hope, you know.”
Paul dipped his chin. “They’re still true, if that’s what you’re asking. This isn’t goodbye, Julie. I still hope you’ll come for Thanksgiving. Make it a proper visit next time.”
Julia’s heart soared, and she had to ask, “Is stateside Julia all that you expected?”
Paul’s brows rose. “Whether or not your hair is styled or your shoes are polished doesn’t matter to me. I think we’re beyond first impressions.”
“I should hope so.”
He grasped her hand, and somehow, Julia’s heart rate spiked higher than it already was.
“By the way, you do look beautiful,” Paul said. “Perhaps I should have led with that, and then you’d be convinced to stay.”
She looked from him to the front door of the home. “I just . . .” She drew in a breath. “I want to visit with you, but being with the entire family is a bit overwhelming.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, then he nodded. “I understand.” He leaned close, kissing her cheek. “Until next month, fair Julia. I’m counting on it.”
Julia wouldn’t be surprised if her heart jumped out of her chest then and there. She wanted to wrap her arms around this man and never let him go. Was he too good to be true? She certainly hoped not. “I’m planning on it,” she said.
Moving toward the waiting cab, she suddenly felt reluctant and weepy. Could she really say goodbye to Paul once again? He hadn’t moved. He was watching her, hands in his pockets, his gaze keen, the edges of his mouth lifted. Then she couldn’t wait anymore. She hurried toward him and threw her arms about his neck.
Paul’s arms came around her, and he pulled her close.
“It’s good to see you, Paulski,” she whispered.
“It’s good to see you too.” His voice rumbled against her ear.
And then her self-consciousness kicked in, and she released him. Stepped back. Gave a little wave, then climbed into the cab.
Chapter 15
Pasadena, California
January–May 1946
“I do love to cook. I suppose it would lose some glamour if I were married to a ditch digger and had seven children, howsoever.”
—Letter from Julia to Paul, April 22, 1946
Julia hated that she was in Pasadena and Paul was back east. She’d applied for a government job before leaving Washington, DC, saying she was happy to locate anywhere, but she only wanted to work in public relations, and have nothing to do with filing. Oh, and she’d stated she was only six feet tall.
Before returning home, she’d visited her brother and his wife in Pittsfield—the reunion was bittersweet. John had aged, although she supposed they’d all aged. He also walked with a limp; otherwise, he seemed as active as ever. And Julia took solace in seeing her brother in person and being assured of his well-being.
Once she finally reached Pasadena, her reunion with Dort and Pop was equally sweet. Although the very next day, her father’s caustic political remarks dug into her skin like a burrowing beetle because now she knew better. She understood other viewpoints since being exposed to other beliefs and traditions.
Mostly, she let her father’s comments slide off her back. She was trying to figure out her next steps in life—like the rest of the country. The war was over and, with it, the purpose that Julia had held close the past couple of years too. Marriages of her friends seemed to be happening left and right, and though Julia hadn’t ever exactly walked a traditional path, marriage to a specific man was certainly appealing. After all, she wasn’t getting any younger—and Paul certainly wasn’t—and if she could see herself doing something five years from now, she wouldn’t mind being a wife and mother. Perhaps she could become a housewife after all.
If only to confirm her affection toward Paul, later in the week, she ran into Harrison Chandler at a social function. Luckily, her friend Katy Gates was with her, and Julia could use her as a bit of a buffer. Because it was clear that Harrison was still interested in her. But Julia didn’t feel even one spark of interest for him. He would probably laugh if he knew all her domesticated thoughts toward another man.
She offered Harrison condolences on his father’s death, who’d passed in September 1944. Harrison talked briefly about his brother Norman taking over as publisher and how Harrison would stay as the vice president of the Times Mirror Printing and Binding House.
After he asked about her family, he added, “I’d love to take you out—the two of us—so I can hear about all your OSS adventures.”
Julia hadn’t exactly committed, but she hadn’t exactly turned him down either. Frankly, she hadn’t been prepared to see him or to be asked out.
The very next week, she learned that Harrison had been talking to her father since her return, hinting that he would love to start dating Julia again.
By the time February rolled around and Harrison had dropped too many hints, all of which her father had encouraged, Julia had to finally put a stop to it. First, she called Harrison early in the morning when she knew he’d be starting his day at his office.
“Harrison,” she said without bothering with a polite greeting. “I’m sorry to bother you at work, but this is a serious call, and I don’t want you distracted. I’ll be speaking to my father this morning, too, but I want you both to know that I won’t be marrying you.”
She heard his bluster on the other end of the phone.
“You haven’t proposed—yet—but you’re intruding on my privacy, and you’re including my father—giving him hope where there isn’t.” She dragged in a breath. “I should have said something earlier, even written you a letter during the war, but I’m in love with another man. I can only hope it will result in marriage. Even if it doesn’t, you and I aren’t right for each other.”
Harrison spent the next few minutes telling her he hadn’t been pressuring her, and he wasn’t trying to butter up her father, but it was all white noise as far as Julia was concerned. After hanging up with him, she went to find her father, who’d be a harder person to speak to.
He was finishing his breakfast in the dining room, looking over a copy of the Washington Post she’d recently subscribed to.
“This is drivel, Julia,” Pop said, looking up at her, his graying brows furrowed. “Cancel your subscription. I don’t like it in my house. The only trustworthy reporting is the Los Angeles Times, you know that.”
She sat across from her father and took the newspaper he handed over. Their opinions were still a mile apart, but that could be an argument for another time. “Pop, I just spoke to Harrison Chandler.”
She hated the way his entire expression lit up.
“I’ve turned down any future with him,” Julia said. “He’s not the right man for me, and he’ll never be my husband. I told him that he shouldn’t be chumming with you behind my back either.”
