Julia, page 19
Freddie squealed, and Charlie cheered. The children clapped in excitement.
“We thought you’d never come out with it,” Freddie said, then came around the table and hugged them both.
Charlie raised his glass. “It’s about time, and don’t worry, our house works perfectly.”
Julia should have guessed that the next weeks would be a whirlwind. After informing everyone in her family, they made travel plans. Pop and Phila would fly in from California, and everyone else would be driving to Philadelphia. Paul had rounded up some of his friends and extended family.
The days felt surreal, and there were a lot of unanswered questions about their future, but Julia still wanted to spend every moment with Paul. On August 30, they headed to the Doylestown town hall to apply for their marriage license.
“Do you have your blood test results with you?” a receptionist with horn-rimmed glasses asked them.
Paul looked over at Julia, surprise on his face. “Blood test?”
“It’s required by the state of Pennsylvania,” the receptionist said, her tone peevish. “You can get it done at the clinic around the block, but I don’t think you’ll have the results back”—she looked at the line on their application that read September 1—“in two days’ time.”
Julia noted the flush on Paul’s cheeks, and she reached for the application and tucked it inside her purse. “We’ll get that taken care of. Thank you.”
Then she grasped Paul’s hand, and they walked out of the building.
“I had no idea,” Paul said, his jaw tightening. “I don’t think any of us knew—Did you?”
“It didn’t cross my mind,” Julia said. “I guess we’ll be sweet-talking a nurse at the clinic.”
They only hit another roadblock at the clinic though. “Results will be back in five days, maybe seven,” the clinic’s nurse told them without offering any other options.
Julia couldn’t fault anyone though. She and Paul could have come the week before, and none of this would have happened. As they left the clinic, Julia looped her arm through his. “We could push the wedding back a few days?”
Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “What will we tell everyone? Your father is already in New York City, and everyone else is currently traveling. Most of them have to be back to work on Monday.”
Julia knew he was right, but what else could they do?
“Your father will laugh me out of the state,” Paul muttered.
She squeezed his arm. “Maybe Charlie will have an answer. This is his state, after all.”
Paul looked over at her. “You’re right. Charlie might know a workaround. Surely this isn’t the first time a couple has run into this situation.”
Even after Charlie called those he thought might be able to help them rush through the marriage license, no one was able to get around the blood-test requirement.
Julia was sitting with Paul on the front porch when Charlie delivered the news. “No luck. You’re not getting married in Pennsylvania on Sunday.”
Freddie joined them outside. “Nothing?” she asked Charlie.
He leaned against the porch railing. “Nothing.”
Paul took out what was probably his tenth cigarette of the day and lit it.
Then Charlie’s expression cleared. “You know, New Jersey is only a couple of miles away, and they don’t require a blood test for their marriage licenses.”
Paul’s head snapped up. “New Jersey?”
Freddie clapped her hands together. “Our friends live in Stockton. The Seymours. What if we call them up and see if you can marry at their place? Then we’ll all come back here for the reception?”
Paul rose to his feet and stubbed out his cigarette. “Well, let’s call them up.” He grinned down at Julia. “Do you want to marry me on Sunday?”
She laughed, renewed hope bouncing around in her chest.
Moments later, they had their answer. They were getting married in New Jersey. Paul kissed Julia in celebration, then he whooped.
“It will be a surprise to everyone who shows up, but it will be a good surprise.” Paul grasped Julia’s hand. “I’m glad you said yes.”
The next day, Julia was still basking in the change of fortune when she and Paul climbed into the car to drive to New York City. Her father was throwing them a wedding rehearsal dinner at the River Club. It would be filled with a lot of superficial chatting, but it was a grand gesture from Pop, so Julia wasn’t complaining.
Paul drove, as usual, and the two-hour drive was beautiful. They couldn’t have picked a more serene day.
Just a few miles out of town, Paul slowed the car when they reached an intersection where the lanes were reduced. Then he suddenly said, “Oh no.” His eyes were on the rearview mirror. “That truck isn’t slowing down.”
Julia turned to look behind them, and to her horror, a large truck was barreling toward them. It was going way too fast.
Paul accelerated and tried to turn out of the way, but it was too late.
The truck careened toward the driver’s side, and the last thing Julia remembered was hitting the windshield.
Chapter 18
Lumberville, Pennsylvania
August–September 1946
“I was not much of a cook when we first married. I was using magazines and the Joy of Cooking. We would not eat dinner until around ten because it took me so long to cook. I was doing fancy things. Paul would help. He would do anything. He was a wonderful companion; he was never, ever boring.”
—Julia Child
Julia heard Paul saying her name, but she wasn’t sure why she couldn’t answer. And why couldn’t she see anything? Was it the middle of the night? She heard more voices. People she didn’t know. Talking to Paul.
Then she remembered. They’d been hit by a truck, and she had slammed into the windshield and then been thrown from the car. About the moment her memory returned, the pain hit her like a boulder. She groaned and dragged her eyes open.
Everything was blurry, but she could see Paul. Hovering over her. Blood, a livid red, streaked his face. The muted sounds around her sharpened.
“Julie,” he breathed in obvious relief. “You’re going to be fine. We’re on our way to the hospital. Just rest, and don’t try to move.”
“My arm,” she croaked. Her mouth tasted bitter, and her arm felt like it was on fire. They were in another car right now. Not an ambulance. Who was driving them?
“You have some cuts on your arm,” Paul rasped. “Nothing that can’t be easily fixed.” He placed a shaking hand on her cheek. “We’ll be at the hospital soon, and you’ll be fine.”
Why did he keep saying she’d be fine? It made her wonder if she would be fine. Her head was throbbing now, and her ears hurt. Was that a strange thing to notice?
A woman spoke, telling the driver of the car where to turn.
Julia slowly turned her head to look out the window and saw that they were pulling up to a hospital.
“We’re here,” Paul said. “We’re going to get someone to carry you inside. I’ll be right by you the whole time.”
A couple of hospital orderlies came out to the car, and while Julia was loaded onto a gurney, Paul limped beside her. But he wasn’t allowed into her room because, apparently, he had to get X-rays to see if his ribs were broken.
As the doctor and a couple of nurses hovered over Julia, she closed her eyes. She was supposed to be in New York City, celebrating with her father.
“Hold as still as possible,” one of the nurses said. Julia had already forgotten the woman’s name. “We need to extract the glass shards.”
Julia drew in a breath as pain seared through her, but she was able to hold still. “Where’s Paul?” she asked more than once, and the answer was always the same: he was getting checked over, but he’d be fine.
Fine. She was starting to hate that word.
More hospital staff bustled in and out. Once her arm was taken care of and set into a sling, the doctor with a tidy mustache said, “You have a wound on the side of your forehead that needs stitching.”
Julia exhaled. “I’m going to live?”
“You’re going to live,” the doctor said, “but I must say, you’re lucky things weren’t worse.”
“Well, make sure the stitches are pretty—I’m getting married tomorrow.”
The doctor didn’t speak for a moment. “You might want to reschedule your wedding. You’ll be wearing a sling, and your head will be bandaged.”
Julia didn’t even have to think about it. “Brides can wear white on their wedding day, right? Mine will be my bandages.”
The doctor chuckled, and beyond him, she heard the door open. Without seeing the person entering, Julia knew it was Paul. She simply felt his presence, but she couldn’t turn her head because the doctor had started his stitching.
When Paul came into view, he grasped her hand. “How are you?”
“The doctor promised that I’m going to live,” she said. “Are you ready to have a bandaged bride?”
Paul squeezed her hand. “We can see how you feel.”
“I’m feeling fine.” At least she thought she did. “And you promised I’d be fine, so I will be.”
She didn’t know if Paul would have argued with her, because at that moment, another nurse came in. “You have visitors in the lobby. I told them they had to wait.”
“Finished here,” the doctor said. “I’ll send you home with aspirin, but I do recommend taking things as easy as possible for a few days. In a week, we can take out the stitches.”
After the doctor left, Paul pulled her into a careful hug, being mindful of her arm sling and head bandage.
“Are you all right?” she murmured against Paul’s cheek.
“Bruised, nothing more.” Paul held her for another long moment. “I think my life flashed before my eyes, and I was terrified that we wouldn’t escape. I found out that the truck lost its brakes. I wish I would have seen it sooner and gotten out of the way.”
“It was all so fast,” Julia murmured. “I don’t think you could have gotten out of the way. There wasn’t anywhere to go.” She drew away and held his gaze. “It was an accident, nothing more. Not your fault.”
Paul nodded, but there was a pained expression on his face.
Julia looked past him to the cane propped against a nearby chair. “They gave you a cane?”
“Got some good bruising on my hip and leg, but nothing is broken.” He paused. “Ready to marry a man with a cane?”
Julia laughed. “We’ll make a unique bride and groom tomorrow.”
Paul dropped a kiss on her cheek, then pulled her into another embrace. Julia wanted to stay in his arms the rest of the day. The accident could have been much worse, and she was grateful that she had her Paul fully intact.
When they finally made it to the lobby, Charlie and Freddie greeted them, then asked a thousand questions. And after an adamant discussion about tomorrow’s wedding, in which Julia insisted she would be all right, they piled into Charlie’s car and drove back to the house.
In the late morning, Julia commandeered Mrs. Seymour’s elegant dressing room, and Dort helped Julia dress and do her hair. She hadn’t wanted a fancy wedding dress that she’d wear only once; besides, she didn’t want to bother with fittings or to be persuaded into what might be fashionable—it felt extravagant after coming through a major world war. She wanted to be comfortable in her own skin. So she’d chosen a brown-and-white polka dot dress with a belted waist. She’d ditched the arm sling because she could move her arm well enough.
“Despite the bulky bandage on the side of your forehead, you look beautiful,” Dort said, stepping back from the vanity table. “You’re wearing high heels?”
“I am. Paul already knows I’m tall, and I like these shoes.”
“And we both know that finding a good pair of shoes to fit our large feet is always a chore,” Dort said.
“I think if my house—when I have a house—ever burned down, the only thing I’d grab is my shoes,” Julia said with a teasing grin. “Plus, we all tower over the Child family since you’re six five and John is six four. We’ll have the tall side and the not-so-tall side.”
Dort hugged Julia. “You’re such a good sport. If you weren’t wearing a bandage on your head, no one would even know about the accident. I can’t believe you’re keeping your original wedding date.”
“Well, thanks to our hosts, Whitney and Lola Seymour, today is still possible,” Julia said. “I’m not letting an accident stop us.”
“You really love him, don’t you?” Dort asked.
Julia’s heart expanded, and there was no hesitation on her part. “I really do.”
“Let’s get out there, then,” Dort said. “You have a groom waiting for you.”
It was nearly noon—time to get married.
As Julia stepped out into the beautiful backyard, fragrant with foliage and framed with leaves beginning to turn autumn colors, she glanced at the gathered guests—her father and Phila, John and Jo as well as Paul’s close connections from Paris and Connecticut. Richard Myers and his family, the Kublers, and the Bissells.
But it was Paul who captured and held her attention. He might be standing at the end of the makeshift aisle, leaning on a cane, but his pleased demeanor made him seem another foot taller. Julia smiled as tears burned her eyes. The moment was finally here. She took her place across from her beloved Paul, flanked by Dort as her single bridesmaid and Charlie as Paul’s only groomsman. The ceremony was short, which was perfect since Julia had waited long enough.
Paul had carefully prepared his vows, and Julia knew her heart would be devoted to him the rest of her living days. After their “I do’s,” Paul stepped close to kiss her. Yesterday, a runaway truck had almost ended their lives before they could really begin.
Today was a second chance for them—and the happiest chance of their lifetime.
Everyone headed across the state border, back to Coppernose, where Dort and Freddie had outdone themselves with the food preparation. Tables had been set up in the backyard and on the bricked terrace, and the women brought out dish after dish and set them on the long tables for a sumptuous lunch. In Julia’s opinion, the location couldn’t have been more beautiful, with the fully bloomed gardens edging a brook and small waterfall. One side of the yard held a swimming pool that sparkled blue in the sunlight.
When everyone was full from all the delicious food, Dort announced, “It’s time to cut the wedding cake.”
Julia wanted to groan at the thought of taking one more bite of anything, but she and Paul climbed to their feet, hand in hand, and crossed to where Freddie proudly displayed a layered cake she’d baked. Maybe it was because they were both sporting injuries from the car wreck, but their shared taste of the wedding cake was perfectly sweet and polite.
Paul leaned in for another kiss, his eyes smiling at her. “Thanks for going easy on me.”
Julia laughed.
Despite there being some grumbling on her father’s part about how the Child family had planned all the wedding details—when Julia knew he didn’t want anything to do with the planning anyway—Pop came through with a generous wedding gift of a new car—a 1947 Buick—which would replace their wrecked vehicle.
They immediately nicknamed it the Blue Flash in honor of the color.
Pop made a point of disparaging the French when he presented them with an original gift: a gas refrigerator. “You don’t want to buy one of those new-fangled French iceboxes. We should only patronize American businesses.”
Julia didn’t exactly agree, but it was her wedding day, and she wasn’t going to turn down her father’s wedding gifts.
The first week of marriage to Paul was everything Julia could hope for, and she pinched herself more than once to make sure she was really and truly married to him. But reality soon set in as the weeks turned into months, and Julia felt adrift when faced with what her role should be while Paul continued to work for the government in Washington, DC. She toyed with the idea of finding a desk job—because that was what she was qualified for, and there were plenty of those available with the State Department—but she couldn’t bring herself to commit to more secretarial work, even though she also didn’t want to blow through her mother’s inheritance. Paul was making a passable wage, and they weren’t desperate, but the future felt narrow and limited if they relied on only his income.
Paul gave her the autonomy to decide whether she wanted to work, so while she was making up her mind, she determined to be content with setting up house and enjoying their social circles. Through Charlie, they’d found a house at 1677 Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown. The place needed attention and love, and Julia loved the small, cozy rooms. She didn’t mind diving into the work of plastering, putting up wallpaper, painting, and watching Paul do the rewiring. Slowly, it began to feel like a home—their home.
“It looks like you’re getting ready to cook up a storm,” Paul said, coming home from the office one day and finding stacks of cookbooks and magazines on the kitchen table and every pot and pan and cooking utensil strewn across the counters.
Julia set her hands on her hips. “I’m getting ready. Like, to really cook. We can’t survive on soup from a can or going out to eat every night. But cooking dinner probably won’t happen until tomorrow. Fortunately, Freddie invited us over for dinner tonight.”
Freddie and Charlie owned a house only a few blocks away on Thirty-Fifth Street. They ended up eating together a few nights a week—Freddie cooking something delicious and Julia bringing a measly side dish of canned vegetables and a bottle of wine. Eventually, Julia planned to start inviting their OSS friends over for dinner and socializing. Several of them lived and worked in DC, including Betty MacDonald and Dick Heppner, who’d married each other after the war, and Guy Martin.
