Julia, page 18
So Julia picked up the chicken pieces and dropped them into the boiling pot of water and vegetables.
“Here,” Freddie said, handing Julia a glass of wine. “Cooking should never be stressful.”
“Wine for the cook?”
“Exactly.” Freddie winked and took a sip from her own wine glass. “It’s the French way, which is the best way.”
“Paul has told me all about his favorite French dishes,” Julia mused. “Do you know how to cook any?”
“Certainly,” Freddie said. “I learned some things while we lived in Paris. Charlie studied art there, you know. Tomorrow, we’ll drive into town, do some shopping, and I’ll teach you to make coq au vin.” She leaned close. “That will really impress Paul.”
Julia had to admit that she was enjoying herself immensely—how could she not. She loved the energy of this place, the friendliness of Freddie’s family, the coziness of the cabin, and the smell of good food.
She felt like she could talk to Freddie about anything and everything, and the time flew as they shared stories. Julia hadn’t even noticed Paul and Charlie returning to the house with young Jon until Paul laughed at one of her stories. She turned to see him watching her, amusement on his face. His mood had shifted, brightened, and she knew that this reunion with his brother was good for him.
“Look, I’m cooking,” she told Paul. “And it’s going to be delicious.” She lifted her glass of wine as if to toast him.
He crossed to her, and rested his hand on her waist and kissed her. “I don’t doubt it.”
Julia was shocked that he’d been so boldly affectionate in front of his brother’s family, but she didn’t mind in the least. She noted the exchanged looks between Freddie and Charlie. Were they happy that Paul had brought her for a visit?
“Now, girls, set the table,” Charlie said, then turned to Jon. “Bring in some more of the chopped wood for the stove.”
Freddie opened the oven door, letting out a cloud of heat. “Come and look, Julia.”
She bent and peered into the oven. The loaf of bread had started to brown.
“It’s ready, don’t you think?” Freddie asked.
“It looks perfect to me.”
Freddie grinned, then used a linen cloth to take out the bread.
As they sat around the table, Julia soaked in this family life of Paul’s. He might have often complained about the competition with his twin brother, but Julia could see that their bond ran deeper than any disputes.
And another interesting thing happened. Paul, whom Julia always saw at the center of their friend group since everyone looked to him for his opinions, was now eclipsed by his brother. Paul was quieter around Charlie, and Julia surmised it was because Charlie was so gregarious. She was pretty sure that Charlie could walk into any room, in any sort of crowd, and command attention.
Yet Paul seemed resigned to his role, if not content. And it was clear he was still gunning for his brother’s favor as they both talked about art and photography.
When Paul’s hand found Julia’s beneath the table, she suddenly knew. She knew that Paul had brought her here because he wanted her to feel welcomed by his family. He wanted her to be a part of his family. And she would be saying yes.
Chapter 17
Lopaus Point, Maine
August 1946
“She has deep-seated charm and human warmth which I have been fascinated to see at work on people of all sorts, from the sophisticates of San Francisco to the mining and cattle folk of the Northwest. She would be poised and at ease anywhere, I should say; she tells the truth, and for the most part uses balanced rather than extravagant language. In this connection I believe that her thinking has become much more careful, logical and objective in the last two years, and I find her interesting to talk to at any time. And I love her dearly.”
—Letter from Paul Child to his brother, Charlie
“He’s different around you, you know,” Freddie said as they browsed the produce at the local grocer in the town of Bernard.
“Different how?” Julia asked. She was glad they’d come into town without all the children. Paul and Charlie had taken them to the beach. This gave Julia more time with Freddie to have a heart-to-heart.
“He’s lighter somehow, happier.” Freddie picked up a couple of cloves of garlic and set them in their basket. “I love that he hugs and kisses you in front of everyone.”
Was that notable? Hadn’t he been this way with previous girlfriends—such as Edith? “I’ve been wanting to ask you something, and I don’t know if I should . . .”
Freddie zeroed in with her astute gaze. “You want to know about Edith?”
“I do,” Julia admitted. “I mean, Paul has told me plenty. Especially when we were in China, and he was still grieving over her loss. She seemed to be a perfect match for him. Artistic, intellectual, experienced . . . all the things I’m not.”
Freddie began picking through the mushrooms, selecting specific ones to add to their basket. “He was never openly affectionate with her,” she said. “He always seemed careful around her—like he was trying to please her or impress her all the time. With you . . . he’s himself. He’s more carefree, more expressive, and I can tell he’s crazy about you.”
Julia released a careful breath. This was what she needed to hear in order to move past the last stumbling block in front of her heart. She understood that Edith was dead and long gone, but Julia also knew it was impossible to compete with a sainted memory.
“Julia,” Freddie said. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Paul. We all see it, and I believe he knows it as well. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him, and besides, he and Charlie haven’t had one disagreement since you arrived.”
“It’s only been a day,” Julia said.
Freddie chuckled. “That’s plenty of time for at least a dozen.”
They both laughed, but inside, Julia was swooning. Was Freddie right? Was Paul at his happiest—because of her?
“Now,” Freddie said. “Let’s get back because this coq au vin will be a process. Ready to be my sous-chef?”
Julia straightened. “Ready.”
The cabin was still empty when they returned, and Julia had no idea how long the men would keep the children at the beach, but she gamely joined in her first French cooking lesson. And while she thought there should be a recipe somewhere, apparently, Freddie had it all in her head.
They’d brought home bacon, chicken, tomatoes, mushrooms, garlic, and pearl onions. Everything else, Freddie said she already had at the cabin.
“Now,” Freddie said after they’d unloaded the groceries. “Cut the bacon rind and then cut the bacon into rectangles about a quarter inch wide and one inch long. We’re going to simmer the bacon pieces in water for about ten minutes, then we’ll rinse and pat dry.”
“How much water?” Julia asked, pouring water from one of the buckets into the cooking pot.
Freddie paused. “A quart? No, two quarts. Estimate. You don’t need to measure.”
Estimating and improvising had led to most of Julia’s disasters in cooking school.
“We’ll sauté the bacon in hot butter until it’s lightly cooked,” Freddie continued.
While Julia worked on the bacon, Freddie dried the chicken. Then she added it to the casserole pan heating on the stove. Next, she seasoned the chicken.
“Add the bacon to the casserole now,” Freddie said, “and we’ll cook it for five minutes, then turn the chicken and cook for another five minutes.”
While they waited for the chicken to cook, Freddie instructed Julia to make a tomato paste and add in mashed garlic and herbs, such as thyme and bay leaf. Julia wished she could write everything down as they prepared, but she didn’t want to slow the process.
“We’re going to uncover the chicken and pour in some cognac,” Freddie said.
Julia watched her remove the chicken from the oven, douse it with cognac, then light a match. “You have to turn your face when you do this to save your eyelashes.”
Julia gasped as Freddie touched the match flame to the chicken and ignited the cognac. Flames leaped up, and Freddie jiggled the casserole dish until the flames died out. Next, she poured in red wine. “This should be a Burgundy, or a Chianti. Some chefs use Beaujolais or Côtes du Rhône.”
Julia wasn’t really a wine connoisseur and usually left any wine ordering to Paul.
“Bouillon is next,” Freddie said. “Then you’ll stir in the tomato paste mixture, and we’ll let everything simmer for thirty minutes.”
Julia could do that. She added in the next ingredients. “And then what?”
“Boiling the onions and sautéing the mushrooms.”
Julia set to work, and Freddie skimmed the fat from the chicken as it progressed in cooking. Then she raised the heat until the liquid was boiling. “Once the liquid is reduced to about two cups, we remove it from the heat. Add flour and butter, blending it into a paste right inside the casserole pan.”
Julia watched as Freddie used a wire whip to do the blending.
“More simmering and stirring until the sauce thickens.” Freddie motioned toward Julia. “Place the mushrooms and onions around the chicken, then baste with the sauce. We can either move to a platter or serve from the casserole. I prefer the casserole. Less cleanup.”
Julia laughed. They’d dirtied every pot and pan in the cabin.
“And a final touch—which really makes the entire dish,” Freddie said, breaking off sprigs of parsley and adding them in strategic places. “What do you think?”
“It smells like heaven,” Julia said.
“And the men and children are back just in time,” Freddie announced, looking out the kitchen window. “They probably smelled it cooking.”
The door opened, and in walked the rest of Freddie’s family.
Julia felt pride in her contribution to preparing the meal as everyone sat to eat and exclaim over the deliciousness. She could tell that Paul especially appreciated the French meal. Julia found every bite delicious, and she vowed to write down the recipe the next day so that she’d always have it.
Over the length of their stay, Julia stuck close to Freddie for all meal preparations, trying to learn as much as she could. Freddie was such a natural around cooking, and Julia knew she’d never forget how Freddie effortlessly threw together salivating dishes with a glass of wine in one hand and a spatula in the other.
On their final morning at the cabin, Paul asked Julia to go for a walk with him after breakfast. As they stepped outside the cabin, she realized that she’d miss this place, this family, and the constant action. Yet it would be nice to be with just Paul again.
Paul grasped her hand, his with paint flecks on it since he’d been working on a landscape. They walked toward the rocky bluff that overlooked the beach. The wind felt cool, but the sun would soon warm them. When they reached the bluff, Paul settled on one of the larger rocks, setting his sketchbook on his knee. He’d already drawn a few renditions of the landscape and the distant village of Blueville.
Julia took out her diary that she’d faithfully kept on their trip and wrote about the happenings of the day before when she’d gone swimming with the children and made sandcastles on the beach.
A seagull landed close to them, but they had no food to interest the bird as it artfully circled them, hoping for a morsel. After a moment, it flew away with a low squawk, then joined other birds down the beach as they perched on rocks, watching the incoming tide. Another gull took flight, sailed over the water, and snatched a fish from its surface.
Julia wondered if she’d ever be in such a quiet, peaceful cove again. Every inch of California beaches seemed to be occupied, but here, it was like a private paradise.
“Have you enjoyed the visit?” Paul asked.
She tugged her gaze from the seagulls. “Yes, absolutely. I love your family. Their cabin is in the perfect location. And no tourists, which makes it better.”
Paul set aside his sketchbook and reached for her hand. “I’m glad you love my family.”
She laughed but felt a bubble of nervousness too. “And I love you too.”
“I love you, Julie.” Paul leaned close and kissed her as the wind seemed to tug them closer. When they drew apart, he said, “Do you think your father and Phila might make a trip to Pennsylvania? And, of course, your brother and your sister, but they’d have less distance to travel.”
Dort had ended up leaving Pasadena a couple of weeks after Julia and was already settled in New York.
“Why Pennsylvania?” she asked. Charlie lived there, but Julia wasn’t sure why Paul would even want her father to come out east. Unless . . . her voice stuck in her throat as she stared at Paul.
His smile appeared as he shifted to his knees in front of her. Two thoughts pricked her mind—first, that Paul’s knees were going to hurt, and second, the only reason he’d be on his knees was to propose.
Julia placed her free hand over her heart. “Paul?” she whispered.
“Julie—you’re the only woman for me, and I’ve known it for some time. I don’t have roots, though, or a flourishing career, but I can’t wait another day. Or another moment to ask you to be my wife.”
Julia’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t bother to try to stop them.
“Will you marry me, Julia McWilliams?” Paul said, his tone earnest, sincere.
“Oh, Paul.” Julia threw her arms about his neck, and they almost fell over. But to Paul’s credit and years of jujitsu, he kept them upright.
“Is that a yes?” he murmured against her ear with a chuckle.
Julia drew away, grinning. “It’s a big yes! It’s a yes that I would have said months ago. Or even a year ago.”
Paul didn’t look surprised at all. Then he pulled her close again and kissed her soundly.
When he released her, Julia didn’t know if she wanted to keep kissing him or make wedding plans. Her energetic brain won out. “So you want to marry at Charlie’s place?”
“I think that would be best, don’t you?” Paul asked.
Everything sounded wonderful right now, and if Paul suggested they marry on the moon, she would say yes.
“Charlie will be thrilled. He’s been pestering me this whole time about when I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
Julia’s skin heated as she thought about the brothers discussing her.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Paul sat next to her again and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I almost proposed to you in Pasadena so that your father could give us his blessing.” He paused. “But I wasn’t sure if he’d do that, so I thought a little distance might be better.”
Julia nestled against him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re right. A phone call with this news is much better than delivering it in person. Oh. Dort is going to be tickled. And all our OSS friends. They’ll think it’s a hoot.”
Paul laughed, his chest vibrating against her. “Maybe, but I think they all saw it coming.”
Julia lifted her head and gazed at her future husband. “Truly?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Truly. Now, you must also know that I don’t want this to be one of those long engagements. Winter will be too cold and dreary, and next spring feels too far away. Besides, I’m certainly not getting any younger.”
“Because you want children?”
Paul squeezed her hand. “If you want children, we’ll have children. If you don’t, I think we can keep ourselves fully occupied.”
“We’ll see where life takes us.” She leaned against Paul again. They hadn’t had a serious talk about whether either of them wanted children. During their OSS service, he’d only sounded frustrated when he’d spoken about the misbehaviors of the students when he’d taught school in Connecticut. Julia might have been a terror as a child, but she’d enjoyed being with Charlie’s children the past week. She was happy to hear Paul was amenable to having children. She only worried that perhaps she’d passed her optimal child-bearing years.
“How does September 1 sound for a wedding date?” Paul asked. “August is your birthday month, so September can be our anniversary month.”
Julia straightened and stared at him, excitement bubbling inside her. “That’s less than a month away. Do you think we can pull everything together by then?”
“I don’t see why not,” Paul said. “We don’t need to book a church.”
“Lumberville it is, then,” Julia said. “Now I can’t wait to find a phone to tell everyone.”
He pulled her close again. “Well, I think we’d better head back since it’s almost lunchtime, and we have news to share.” Paul made a move to stand, then helped her to her feet. When his arms came around her and pulled her close, she breathed in the scent of his sun-warmed skin and his musky soap.
Being married to Paul would be wonderful, and come rain or sun, she’d give it her all.
Entering the cabin a short time later, Julia’s heart thundered with anticipation. She wondered when Paul would make the announcement. But he didn’t say anything as Julia joined Freddie in last-minute sandwich preparations. Charlie and Paul set the table with the children, then poured the wine.
They all sat and started to eat, with the discussion revolving around their packing and leaving. Julia caught Paul’s eye more than once, but he’d only smile and continue on with the conversation. Then, finally, Paul picked up his wine glass and raised it.
Everyone fell silent and looked at him—probably expecting him to say how much he’d enjoyed their little vacation and thanks for the hospitality. Instead, he announced, “We’re going to get married—and right away. And if it’s all right with all of you, we’ll marry on September 1 at Coppernose, in your backyard at Lumberville.”
