Authors: Linda Schmalz
“You
are
desperate.”
Julia sighed. “I know, believe me, I know. But Sam could call me from wherever he is or use a pay phone. This doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, Jules. Like you told me, he’s got a lot going on with Polly’s death and the movie.”
Julia forced a smile, grateful to Kim for remaining optimistic for her. “Keep going. I need more assurance. I’m starting to have my doubts about Sam and it’s driving me crazy. I’m in tears every half hour or so.”
“Well, he
did
call you right after he got back from Chicago and then again after Polly passed.”
“That’s right.” Sam had called her twice after their time in Chicago. The first time, the Monday after his visit, he told her how wonderful their time together had been, and the second call, the following Monday, relayed the sad news of Polly’s death. Julia cried during and after that phone call. Sam sounded so hurt and sad and she could do nothing to help him.
Kim continued on. “And he did say that he had a lot to do, to get her affairs in order and settle her estate, right?”
“That’s true.”
“He’ll call, Jules. He will.”
“Okay.”
“In the meantime, you want to come over tonight and have pizza?”
Julia sighed. Exhausted as she felt, pizza and gossip sounded much better than sitting home waiting for the phone to ring. “Sure. Let me shower and I’ll be over in an hour.”
Two hours later, Bert Steele entered his home from the back porch, happy to be home, out of the hot sun and away from the dirt and grime of the road crew. He placed his hard-hat and boots on the gray, indoor-outdoor carpeting and made his way into the kitchen, his stomach rumbling from a hard day’s work.
The house seemed unusually quiet. He glanced into the kitchen, but found it empty and without dinner waiting.
“Jules?” Bert walked through the kitchen to the hallway. As he proceeded to the stairwell, he spied a note on the telephone stand.
Went to Kim’s for dinner. Left over pot-roast in fridge. Love, Julia.
“Ah ha,” he said to the air, the mystery over his missing daughter and dinner solved. He was about to turn away when the flashing light of the answering machine caught his eye. He hit the playback button.
“Mr. Steele,” a woman’s voice began. “This is Mary from the catering service. I’m just confirming the food order for Sunday afternoon. Please call me back.”
Bert made a mental note to call the caterer and to erase that message so Julia didn’t hear it. He smiled, excited by his plan to throw the going away party for her. Lately she’d been rather out of sorts. It was times like these he felt most inadequate as a single father. He didn’t know whether to pry into her business or let her come to him. If only her mother had lived…
Another message began.
“Love.” A deep voiced, English accented man spoke. “Just calling to tell you that things aren’t going so well here right now financially. I don’t know how long it will take to straighten things out and there’s more to tell, but would rather talk to you in person than over a machine. I’ll try again soon. Go on with your plans as usual for now. We’ll be together soon, I promise. I’ll tell you more when we talk. I miss you. Bye for now, love.”
“What the hell?” Bert stared down at the machine. “Poor guy obviously got the wrong number.” He hit the “erase messages” button and headed for the kitchen, thoughts of party plans and pot roast on his mind.
“Try to look surprised and happy.”
Kim’s advice barely registered in Julia’s troubled mind as they drove into the Riverside Lanes Bowling parking lot. In less than five minutes, Julia needed to walk into the building aglow with surprise and happiness.
“With all that’s been happening lately, Kim, the last thing I am is happy.”
“I know, Jules. But your dad is so thrilled about this party.”
Julia sighed and blinked back tears. She didn’t want to go to college next week. She wanted to go London, and she wanted Sam to call and tell her he still loved her.
Kim chattered on about the party. “John and his dad will be in there. Your dad invited them.”
Julia rested her head against the door window. Could this day get any worse? “I thought John hated me.”
“Quite the contrary, my dear. He still carries a torch for you. He asks about you all the time. Wants to know what’s going on with the ‘foreign guy’.”
“And what do you tell him?”
“I just say you’re still in touch.”
Julia looked down at her hands. “I appreciate the lie.”
“No prob.” Kim glanced at the car clock. “We should go in, Jules.”
“Okay.”
They exited the car and entered the front door of the bowling alley. Kim guided her into a room on the right. Darkness enveloped Julia as she entered, but lights quickly flew on and many voices shouted “surprise” from all directions. She feigned a startled look, her eyes settling on her father’s beaming face.
“Oh my.” She mustered all the enthusiasm she could. “You shouldn’t have, really.”
“We couldn’t have my girl going off to college without a proper send off, now, could we?” Her father walked towards her, his arms open wide. She met him half way and accepted his embrace.
“Thank you, Dad. This is so nice.” Tears welled again. She felt like a complete fraud.
People gathered around wishing her well and talking about her exciting new life at college. All Julia could think about was the exciting new life she wanted in England.
“Plenty of food and soda to be had!” Her father’s voice boomed above the crowd as he motioned for everyone to belly up to the buffet tables.
Julia excused herself from a crowd of well-wishers, a ravenous hunger suddenly enveloping her. She headed to a table and reached for a plate, accidentally knocking into the person beside her. She turned to apologize and found herself face to face with John.
She had no idea what to say. She half expected him to lay into her again like the last time they saw each other.
To her surprise, John smiled and motioned to the table. “Go ahead, Julia. You are the guest of honor, after all.” No sarcasm laced his words and she was grateful.
“Okay.” She grabbed a roll. She looked back up at him and found him watching her. “Thanks for coming.” What else could she say?
He handed her some plastic silverware and a napkin and reached for a plate. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I’ll miss having you around. I already do.”
Guilt washed over Julia like a tidal wave. She didn’t answer.
John put some salad on his plate. “Are you still with the foreign guy?”
Julia froze, her hand poised over the macaroni salad. She glanced over John’s shoulder. A long line formed in back of them, with Jeanne O’Brien, always ripe for gossip, at the head. “I can’t talk about that now.” She moved to the end of the table with John at her heels. She spoke in a whisper “My father doesn’t know anything about Sam.”
“Oh.” John smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Why haven’t you told him? Can I hope that maybe things aren’t going all that well?”
“They’re fine!” Julia’s eyes flashed anger, but her stomach lurched at the sight of John’s green beans mixing with his turkey gravy. She covered her mouth, placed her plate on the table, and hurried away in search of a bathroom.
The door closest to the buffet table opened into the bar, and Julia located the door to the restrooms behind the pool tables. Holding her heaving stomach, she raced into a stall, and vomited several times. A few moments later, fatigue overwhelmed her and she slid to a sitting position on the floor, her back against a wall, tears streaming down her face.
Someone entered the washroom. “Julia? You in here? It’s Kim.”
She wiped her tears, rose from the floor and opened the door.
“You look like hell.” Kim handed her a paper towel.
“I feel like hell.” She made her way to the sink to rinse her mouth. “I must have eaten something this morning that didn’t agree with me, or caught a bug. The heat’s been bothering me too.”
Kim leaned against the bathroom wall. “How long have you been feeling this way?”
“For about a week on and off. Kind of nauseated, but no throwing up until now. Stomach flu is going around the nursing home, so that’s probably it.”
“Or, you could be-”
The restroom door opened again as Jeanne entered. She glanced from red-eyed Julia to Kim and back to Julia. “Are you okay?”
“Allergies,” Julia said, thinking fast.
“Oh.” She bypassed the girls and headed into a stall.
Julia dried her hands, glad for the intrusion. She couldn’t look at Kim. “I better get back to the party. My dad’s gonna wonder where I went.” She headed for the door, but Kim grabbed her by the arm.
“Julia, we need to talk.”
“Not now, Kim.” Julia pleaded and motioned towards Jeanne’s stall. “Not
now
.”
She removed Kim’s hand from her arm and headed into the bar, but soon stopped short. Her attention became riveted to a television up on a shelf in a corner behind the bar. Sam’s face filled the screen. He appeared to be at some fancy party and dressed in a tuxedo.
“What program is this?” Julia asked the bartender as her heart raced.
“Just some entertainment portion of the news break in between games.” He didn’t even glance up as he finished drying a glass.
“Can you turn up the volume?” Julia asked.
“Sure.”
“And yes, folks,” crooned a reporter. “The rumors are true. Renowned British heiress and socialite, Deirdre Lamont, married up and coming British actor, Sam Lyons, earlier today. Their wedding is being hailed by London press as one of the most glamorous weddings outside British royalty.”
Julia watched in shock as the program rolled pictures of Sam and Deirdre leaving a church, dancing at a reception and standing beside a limousine. Deirdre looked radiant and beautiful, her smile happiness personified. Sam,
her
Sam, looked handsome and debonair, his smile tight, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
How could this be happening? Sam loved
her
, not Deirdre, he told her so himself.
“The destination for the Lamont-Lyons honeymoon is unknown,” the reporter added.
Julia’s knees grew weak and she became only vaguely aware of someone walking up beside her.
“Oh no, Jules.” Kim stared at the screen.
She couldn’t respond. Her tongue felt thick. Her knees buckled as the walls closed in. Objects became fuzzy. Within seconds she could no longer see beyond the bar.
Julia crumbled unconscious to the floor.
“Julia?” A soft voice broke through the dark void. Trying to remain in the warm cocoon of sleep, Julia turned her face from the voice and into the softness of her pillow.
“Julia.” She recognized the voice as Kim’s. Why was Kim trying to wake her? Was she late for work? She didn’t care. She felt too tired to go.
“Please Jules, you need to wake up.” A hand gently shook her shoulder. “I have to tell you something.”
Julia forced her eyes half open, the world a blur. “What?” she mumbled through semi-consciousness.
“Can you sit up at least?” Kim’s voice pleaded, and Julia tried her best to accommodate the request. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position while Kim propped up pillows behind her. Regaining her focus, she glanced around the stark, white room.
“Am I in the hospital?” Her throat hurt, as did her head.
“You fainted at the bowling alley. Remember?”
Julia fought to remember a bowling alley. Images of a party, a bar and Sam marrying Deirdre rushed back. Now her heart ached as well. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s out in the hall talking with the doctors. John insisted on coming, too. An ambulance brought you here. John and I followed in his car.”
“Am I okay?”
“You’ve got a bump on your head from hitting a chair on the way down, and you’re dehydrated which is why you have the I.V.”
Julia glanced at her bandaged hand. A long, clear tube ran from under the gauze and up to an I.V. bag. “I had a feeling I was getting sick. Everyone’s sick at the nursing home.”
Kim took Julia’s hand. “You don’t have the flu.” Kim inhaled sharply. “You’re pregnant.”
She stared at Kim, not really sure she heard her correctly.
This is simply some weird dream and I’ll awaken soon.
“Jules, you okay? Did you hear me?” Kim said, concerned. “You’re not going to pass out again are you? I had to tell you while I had the chance before your dad walks in.”
Julia closed her eyes.
When I open them I’ll be back home in my bed.
She opened her eyes. Kim still stood beside her, her face a contortion of worry and compassion. “Did you hear what I said? You’re having a baby.”
Julia fished for any possibility of error. Kim must be wrong. She and Sam used protection. There couldn’t be any baby. There should be London in the fall, and a life with Sam, not this nightmare in which Sam married Deirdre.