The Story of Her Life, page 11
We walk up the drive to the front door with our fingers intertwined together. Standing on the small covered front porch, I squeeze Devan’s hand in reassurance before I ring the doorbell and wait for my mother to come open the door. I know we could have walked right in since she is expecting us, but I wanted to be respectful since she would be meeting Devan for the first time. I am not sure what I was expecting when I agreed to come to dinner today, but it was not Edward opening the door to my mother’s house.
“Hello, Julie. Nice to see you again.” He beams at me as he opens the door. He takes a minute to look me over head to toe before making eye contact with me again. “You’re looking as charming as ever.”
“Edward.” My fingers tighten against Devan’s hand. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, my mother and I were invited over for dinner too. Your mom thought it would be a nice dinner party if we were all here. Who do we have here?” He looks at Devan. Maybe I’m misreading it but the look he gives Devan does not seem his normal friendly type of look. It’s like he’s sizing him up. This has got to be some weird caveman shit. I swear he is puffing his chest out and it would not surprise me if he started beating on it with his fist at this point.
“Edward, this is my boyfriend, Devan. Devan, this is Edward. We went to high school together.”
“Nice to meet you.” Devan says, extending his hand to Edward.
“Hmm.” Edward takes Devan’s hand in a quick shake, then steps back to allow us to enter the house. Devan and I share a glance before we enter but I still do not let go of his hand.
I lead Devan through the front door into the living room. My mother still lives in the same small Craftsman cottage that I grew up in, refusing to leave after my father had passed away. Very little had been updated through the years except for appliances and flooring. It is bright and well-lit inside with its white walls and ceilings in every room. The entryway hosts both the living and dining areas with a classic 1920s chandelier hanging over the small dining table. I turn to the right and find my mother and Veronica, Edward’s mother, already sitting and sipping wine. Devan leans down to whisper in my ear, “Boyfriend? I like the sound of that.” A chill runs up my spine as I turn and smile at him. He winks back at me and squeezes my hand.
Mother looks my direction as we enter the house and sets her glass down on the table before she stands. “Julie, dear. So nice to see you again. You remember Veronica?”
“Hello, mother. Nice to see you again Veronica.” I give Veronica a quick smile before looking back to my mother. “Mom, a word please?” I ask and jerk my head in the direction of the kitchen.
“Of course, dear. I could use your help finishing up lunch anyway.” She looks everyone in the eye one at a time. “We’ll be right back.”
I follow my mother into the galley kitchen. It is small but has tons of counter space which is something that I wish I had in my small apartment. She is all smiles and innocence when she turns to face me. “Is that your boyfriend, honey? You didn’t tell me how handsome he was.”
I can’t help but shake my head at how casual she is being right now. I called her yesterday and told her I was bringing Devan today, and she is still trying to push Edward on me. I just don’t understand what could be going through her head. “Mom. What are Edward and Veronica doing here? I thought this was just going to be us?”
“Well, I figured you were bringing someone, and it just seemed like a good idea to invite Veronica too. I went over to her house to invite her in person the other day and Edward was there. It wouldn’t have been polite to leave him out of the invitation.” Polite? Since when was she worried about being polite?
“Really? Is this some weird way to get us to spend more time together? You’ve only been trying to set the two of us up since high school.”
She smiles at me, puts her palm on my cheek and tilts her head to the side as she looks me in the eye. “Julie, you and Edward are friends. Will it really hurt to spend some time with him over dinner today?”
“I’d hardly call us friends, mom. But okay, I will be nice. What do you need help with?” It is only one day, what could possibly happen. It’s not like we haven’t shared a dinner together once or twice over the years. One of the consequences of our mothers being best friends.
Apparently, my mother used lunch today as an excuse to try a new chicken and rice recipe she found on Pinterest. It looks good but ends up being a little dry. I know she tries, she has my entire life, but she has never been a very good cook. She does good with the basics like tacos, spaghetti, or meatloaf. But casseroles, something that you would think anyone could master, not so much. And do not even get me started on her baked goods. If her biscuits do not come out of a can, or her cakes out of a box, then do not try eating them. Most of her deserts come from the freezer section of Walmart.
The entire meal is spent under a veil of, I don’t want to say hostility, but it is tense. Devan sits beside me at the dining table. Mom sits at the head of the table with her friend, Veronica, directly across at the other end. Edward chose to sit directly across from me and appears to be spending the entire time watching me closely. It’s almost creepy. At one point, I had to put my hand on Devan’s thigh to keep him from saying something about the way Edward was watching me eat.
The conversation throughout dinner is almost stilted and uncomfortable. “How is work, Julie?” Mom asks.
“It’s good, mom.” I respond before taking another bite of my dry casserole, immediately washing it down with a sip of wine.
“Are you still working on that one story?” Edward asks, one eyebrow raised.
“I am.” I say, not really wanting to get involved in a conversation about work. “What have you been up to, Edward?”
He tells me that he still is not working but thinking of starting his own business and I try to ignore most of it. “What about you, Devan? What is it that you do exactly?”
“I’m a photographer. I work freelance so I have pictures that I take for several different companies without having to be tied to one place or studio. Right now, I’m working on some promotional brochures for a travel agency in the city.”
“Interesting.” Edward replies before turning his attention back to me and continuing to stare.
We continue to sit around the table after dinner and share a coconut crème pie, courtesy of Marie Callender, and coffee. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and when I come out, Edward is standing in the hallway looking at me. He’s leaning casually against the wall across from the bathroom door. His arms are crossed over his chest, his left ankle crossed over the right. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone was waiting.”
He steps away from the wall in my direction. “It’s okay, Julie. I was actually hoping to talk to you in private for a minute.” He says as I attempt to step around him.
“I really don’t think that’s appropriate. I’m here with my boyfriend in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Really, it’ll only take a minute. I wanted to ask you to stop chasing this story you’re trying to break.”
I stop and turn around to look at him, bringing my hands to my hips and narrowing my eyes. “Who do you think you are? What right do you have to tell me to do that?”
He almost looks embarrassed. His brows are furrowed, and he rubs the back of his neck with one hand, the other fisted at his side. “Please, Julie. It isn’t safe and I’m afraid you are going to get yourself hurt. We’re friends, we’ve known each other a long time. I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“I can take care of myself, Edward. Stay out of it.” I turn around and walk away from him. Edward obviously has other ideas as he reaches out and grabs my arm, jerking me back around to face him.
“Julie, please listen to me. I know you want a better story, something to get you noticed. But this isn’t it.”
I look down at the vice grip he still has on my wrist and try to jerk my arm free. His grip tightens in response becoming painful. “Edward, let me go.” I say, tightening my hands into fists. His grip tightens even more on my wrist causing me to flinch. “I said let go. You’re hurting me.”
“Just promise me you’ll stop with this story Julie.”
“I’m not going to promise you that.”
“Julie, please. I can’t protect you.” He pulls harder on my arm, his grip so tight I know it will leave a bruise.
Confused by his choice of wording, I narrow my eyes at him again. “What makes you think it’s your place to protect me? And what exactly are you protecting me from?”
He releases my arm and puts both hands up, palms facing me as if in surrender. “Fine. Have it your way. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I lift my injured wrist up toward my chest and wrap my other hand around it. Rubbing at the red mark left by his iron grip. Shaking my head, I turn and walk down the hall.
I get back to the dining room as my mother is clearing the rest of the dishes. “Mom, dinner was great, but I have a long day tomorrow. We’re going to head out.” I turn to Devan as he looks up at me and give him a nervous smile hoping that he gets the hint. He lifts a brow in question but does not argue.
“Be careful going back to the city Julie. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” I give my mom a hug before grabbing my purse. Telling Veronica goodbye, I grab Devan’s hand and head for the front door. I am anxious to put some space between me and the participants of this little dinner party.
Devan doesn’t wait long once we get on the road. “Did something happen?”
“No, Devan. I just didn’t want to be there anymore. I don’t understand why she invited Edward and his mother.” I tried to explain to him what happened in the hallway. About how Edward insisted that I drop this story as if he has any claim to my safety.
I look down at my wrist and run my hand along the red marks that were left from Edward’s grip. Devan doesn’t miss my movement. “Julie!” He gasps as he reaches over and places a hand on my sore wrist. “Did he do that?” He asks, his voice full of hostility.
“It’s fine, Devan. Let’s just forget about it.”
“Well, I’m not going to argue that it’s a dangerous story, but I trust you to make the right decisions and be careful. I don’t like that he put his hand on you though.” He says. His other hand tightening on the steering wheel to the point of his knuckles turning white with the grip. “But I will agree that dinner was a little awkward. Is he always that... intense?”
That actually gets a laugh out of me. “He has his moments. It was a little creepy though, the way he was watching me.”
“Yes, it was. It was like he was waiting to pounce on you at any minute. Your mom is nice though. I’m glad I got to meet her.” He reaches over and grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the fading red mark on my wrist.
“I think she likes you.” I tell him as I relax into my seat for the remainder of the ride home.
“Your house or mine?” He asks as we get back to the city.
“Your bed is bigger.”
He chuckles softly. “My house it is then.”
Chapter 12
Devan
I wake up early and decide to let Julie sleep in this morning. Our dinner party at her mother’s house yesterday was rough for her, even if she won’t admit it. I have no idea what the history is between her and Edward, but I wish she had said something while we were there about him putting his hands on her. I would have said something to him myself. I run my thumb along her wrist, grimacing at the deep purple bruises that have formed and my hatred toward that man burns like a raging inferno deep in my gut.
I lay awake for several minutes with my arm curled around her, my hand resting on the small of her back, and watching her sleep. I watch the melodic rise and fall of her chest as she breathes deeply. Her long lashes casting shadows against her cheekbones, her mouth slightly open. I gently kiss her forehead before disentangling myself from her and slipping from the bed silently. I pull on a pair of sweatpants and tiptoe out of the room, heading for the kitchen.
I make a detour while walking down the hallway and step into my office. While I was working the other day taking pictures for a promotional brochure, I spotted a cute little boutique tucked into the corner of a small shopping district. The window display caught my attention as it showed a collection of hand-carved and painted wooden angels. The sign above the entryway showed the store name, Angel Creations, and I knew it was my next stop. Everything inside was handmade and sold on consignment. The lady working the counter, Jennifer was her name, boasted about the local creations and the designers that she carried within the walls of her small boutique. And, of course, my attention was drawn back to the window display of angels, reminding me of my own angel back home. I wanted to pick something up for her while I was there and saw a silver keychain in the display case beneath the register that was perfect.
Stepping behind my desk, I reach into the top drawer and retrieve the velvet bag containing the angel keychain that I picked up for Julie. I went to the hardware store on the way home after purchasing the keychain and had a key made for my house. I know it’s fast, but I really like having her here. Giving her a key is the next logical step and I intend to give it to her today. I step back into the hallway, closing the office door behind me, and continue to the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast, tossing the velvet bag onto the counter.
Taking a quick inventory of the pantry and refrigerator, I decide to surprise my angel with breakfast in bed. I pull out the container of fresh berries, the can of whipped cream, retrieve the waffle iron from the bottom cabinet, and begin the process of making homemade waffles. I set the tea kettle on the stove to heat the water for the French press while waiting for the waffle iron to heat up.
While the waffles are cooking, I pull a tray from the top shelf in the pantry and begin to arrange my surprise. I rinse the berries and place them in a bowl on the tray along with two butter knives, two forks and two napkins. I grab two coffee mugs from the cabinet and two small juice glasses which I fill with orange juice and add to the tray. The waffles are placed on two small plates and set in the middle of the tray. Finally, I add the coffee grounds and hot water to the French press before tucking the can of whipped cream under my arm, grabbing the velvet bag from the counter, and carrying the tray down the hall toward the bedroom.
I smile as I push the bedroom door open with my foot and see Julie curled around my pillow in the middle of the bed. She is still sound asleep and looking so peaceful and innocent. I set the breakfast tray on the nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed, sweeping the hair away from her forehead with the tips of my fingers. “Good morning, angel. Time to wake up.” I whisper in her ear as I bend down to kiss her softly on the cheek.
She groans lightly, pulling the pillow tighter to her chest. I bite my lip to keep from laughing and run the backs of my knuckles along her cheek. With a smile, she cracks one eye open and looks up at me. “Hi.” She squeaks out with a yawn.
“Hi yourself. I brought you something. Move over.” As she moves to a sitting position, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts, I grab the tray of breakfast and set it on the bed. I sit on the edge of the bed and push the plunger down on the French press. “Coffee?” I ask.
“Oh my God, yes!” She exclaims, grabbing a cup from the tray. “This looks amazing. Thank you.” She pops a fresh strawberry in her mouth and looks at me, her eyes open wide.
I smile at her and pour us both a cup of coffee. I throw a handful of berries on my waffle and top it with whipped cream then offer her the can. “Would you like some?”
“Yes please.” She grabs a few berries and puts them on her waffle as well. I shoot some whipped cream on her waffle then hand her the plate and a fork before picking up my own. I watch as she takes a bite, her eyes close as she chews slowly. She releases a soft moan before swallowing then opens her eyes and grins at me again. “This is really good.”
I cut off a piece of my own waffle and take a bite. She is right, this is really good. The perfect amount of sweet and savory. “Mm-hmm. You’re right, it is. I’m glad you like it.” I wash down another bite with a sip of my coffee before reaching for my glass of orange juice.
“So,” She begins after taking her last bite of waffle and taking another sip of her coffee. “What’s the plan for today?” She sets her plate and fork down on the tray. Still covered with the sheet, she pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps both hands around her coffee cup.
“We’re going to Pacific Park, of course.” I smile at her.
“Well I know that. But what else? I mean, we aren’t going to Pacific Park right now, right?”
“Well, no. I need to get sunset shots so I thought we would go later.” I reach over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought we could laze around and watch television. Maybe find a movie to watch on Prime Video. We could watch in here if you want to.”
“A day in bed? With you? That sounds perfect.” She smiles, her cheeks blushing slightly, and I wonder what she is thinking about that could turn her cheeks to such a lovely shade of pink.
I wink at her and give her a crooked smile. “Clothing optional, of course.”
“Even better.” She agrees and I notice her cheeks go from pink to red as she turns her face away from me.
“I have something for you first though.”
She turns back to look at me and smiles shyly. I reach behind me and grab the velvet bag off the nightstand where I had tossed it before waking her up. Her eyes open wide as she focuses on the bag in my hand. “What’s that?” She asks.
“A gift. I saw it the other day and it made me think of you.” I hand her the bag and wait for her to open it.
She dumps the keychain and housekey into the palm of her hand and looks at me suddenly. Her brows narrow in confusion and she tilts her head slightly to one side. “A key?”
“To my house. I like having you here, Julie. I want you to be able to come and go as you please.”
