What if I Fly? (6 page)

Julia is beautiful. She is sexy.

But the difference is he loves her. If he thinks those things, he should tell Julia, not some jerks. When he told Ellie what Julia shared about her experience at the wedding, his sister stared at him, wide-eyed, mouth hung open. Finally, she shook her head and walked out of his room, saying, “I’ve got nothing.”

Neither does he.

Julia doesn’t want to talk to him, she’s made that very clear. He’s left four messages on her mother’s machine since her semester ended and she hasn’t called him back. He wants the opportunity to make things right but isn’t sure how to get her to listen to him, to understand just how sorry he is, to prove he’s not like her father. He’ll never abandon her again.

Covered in sweat, dirt and grass, Will finishes mowing the lawn, puts away the mower then heads to the front yard to pick up the shirt he left there earlier. Walking around the house, he turns the corner and stops in his tracks.

“Julia.”

She’s standing at the foot of his parents’ driveway, kicking a rock back and forth with her feet. They stare at each other for a long moment, then she runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He’s speechless, a rush of warmth spreading through his body.
She’s here.
He can feel her body shaking while he holds her.

“Gram died last night,” she whispers into his neck.

“Oh Julia, I am so sorry,” he breathes into her hair, stroking her back.

They embrace in his driveway for several minutes and he tries to quiet the thoughts flying around in his head. He could try to analyze what this means, her being here, but all he wants to do is hold her. Eventually, he kisses the top of her head and leans back so he can see her face, his arms still around her, afraid to let go.

“You’re all sweaty,” she grimaces, wrinkling her nose.

“Come in. Give me five minutes to rinse off and let’s get out of here.”

She smiles weakly, “Okay.”

***

After Will showers, they climb into his Jeep and head downtown. Neither of them has eaten breakfast and Julia suggests Hope Diner, thinking a little comfort food is in order. She hasn’t been there in months, not since she brought Will there last November. The diner is a local institution, her father used to take her there every Saturday morning, and to her surprise, Will had never been before.

On the drive across town she stares out the car window and rests her hand on Will’s thigh. The moment she wrapped her arms around him in his parents’ driveway she felt the pain draining from her body and was comforted by his presence.

Gram’s gone
… she can’t wrap her head around it. She wants Will to drive to her grandmother’s house, to open the kitchen door and find Gram behind the stove, cooking up a batch of meatballs.

My Julietta
…She can actually feel her grandmother’s fingers pinching her cheeks and her eyes fill with tears as Will pulls into the lot at Hope Diner. Nothing ever changes here. Julia finds comfort in that.

“Will! How are ya fella?” Maria greets them as they enter. “And Jules! Come here darlin’, it’s been too long!”

Maria remembers his name from Thanksgiving?

“Hey Will, Sox lost last night.” Tommy pokes his head around the corner, “You owe me a dolla.”

“I know, I know,” Will walks over to Tommy, hands him the money, and they shake hands, “Best out of five?”

“Nah, the Cahds will sweep this. Did ya see how they played last night? Makes me wanna be a Yankee fan.”

Will cringes and holds up his hand, “Blasphemy!”

“Ah, Jules!” Tommy notices her standing beside Maria, mouth agape. “Welcome back, kid!”

She walks over to the grill, dazed, and kisses him on the cheek.

“What’s going on here?” she asks.

“Whaddya mean?”

She raises her eyebrows and waves her arm around indicating Will, Tommy, Maria.

“Oh, Will comes in here all the time now, don’t ya handsome?” Maria says flirtatiously, a twinkle in her eye. Will leans down and kisses Maria on the cheek, making the portly fifty-year-old waitress blush.

Julia opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She’s absolutely stunned by this turn of events, and begins to laugh. Nothing could’ve surprised her more!

“What?” Will grins.

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Oh, a few months now. I work at the boatyard and usually stop here for breakfast.”

The boatyard?

“When did you start working there?”

“In April,” he says, the corners of his mouth turning down a fraction of an inch.

“Oh.”

“What will you two loves have today?” Maria seats them by the window, “The usual?” They both nod. “Got it.”

“Jules, I really am so sorry for your loss. I only met her that one time…I’m glad I did. She must’ve been very special.”

Her eyes fill with tears remembering how her tiny grandmother pointed her finger at Will when she brought him to the house, telling him to treat Julia right, then reached up, pinched his cheeks and winked before shoving a bowl of meatballs into his hands.

“Thanks, Will,” she pauses, “You know, my conversation with her, last night…” her voice trails off…
was it really last night?
She turns away from him, her eyes unfocused. “Our last conversation was about you.”

Will takes her hand in his and raises his eyebrows, expectantly. She hesitates, then smiles and shakes her head, wrinkling her nose. She doesn’t want to share what Gram said with him yet, and resting her head in her free hand, looks out the window at the boats bobbing in the harbor.

***

The funeral home is overflowing. Julia’s grandmother was a beloved woman in the community and the line of mourners extends out the door and around the corner.

Will still doesn’t know what her grandmother said to Julia, but it brought her back to him and he’ll always be grateful.

Thank you, Gram
.

Beside the coffin are pictures of her family, the photos her grandmother had hanging in her tiny parlor. Will smiles when he notices the photograph of Gram and Joe Montana displayed prominently by her side.

When he went to her grandmother’s for meatballs, Will saw the picture and questioned Julia. Someone had pasted her grandmother’s face on a much younger woman’s body in the picture. Julia said her uncle made it and explained her eighty-five year old grandmother was desperately in love with the thirty-year-old pro quarterback. He burst out laughing and Julia said, “Hey! Joe could return the feelings. You never know!”

Tonight, Julia is standing beside her cousins in the receiving line, wearing a plain black dress, hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face pale. She’s anxious about spending time with her father and stepmother tonight and asked him to stay until the end of the wake. Except for once at the hospital, this is the first time she’s been in their company since before their falling out last Christmas.

Will still can’t believe her father,
any father for that matter
, would call his daughter and tell her to not come to Christmas dinner, explaining that it would make his new wife uncomfortable. He’s been watching the interaction between Julia and her dad all night. There’s no warmth there, even in this time of sorrow.

He wants punch her father in the face and make him feel real pain, then wrap his arms around Julia and protect her from his cruel indifference. She once said she’d never forgive him for leaving her mother or for siding with her stepmother, but he can see the hurt in her eyes. If her father showed remorse and tried to make things right, Julia would forgive him. She’s stubborn, and can hold a grudge, but she’s also forgiving. The fact that he’s here is proof.

“You know, you really hurt her.” Gabby takes a seat beside him in the back of the funeral parlor.

“I know,” Will says and cringes, waiting for the verbal onslaught. He’s always appreciated Gabby’s candor, she reminds him of Ellie that way, but tonight he steels himself for her wrath. She must hate him after what he did to Julia. He deserves whatever she throws his way.

“How do I put this delicately?” she pauses, contemplative. “Sorry, not possible. Your friends are assholes.”

“I know.” He nods his head, contrite.

They sit in silence for a minute.

“I don’t think you’re an asshole,” she says, elbowing him.

“Thanks Gabby,” he smiles, taken aback.
That’s a good sign.

“Don’t get me wrong, Will, I think you’re an asshole around those people you call friends, but not deep down. You know what I’d do if I were you? Cut the cord. Those people are only going to drag you down to their level.”

Will looks at his hands, and nods. He’s been thinking the same thing and wants to put as much distance as possible between himself and Poppasquash.

“You want to know what I think?”

His eyes grow wide, he’s not sure he wants to know, but Gabby continues.

“I think she makes you a better person. And I think you know that.”

“Yeah. She does.” He bobs his head in agreement.
What’s Julia’s nickname for Gabby again? Buddha?

“Everyone is entitled to make a mistake. That wedding was yours. You don’t get to make another one of that magnitude.” Gabby pauses, “Look…I know this is none of my business, but I love Julia and she cares about you. In all the years I’ve known her, Julia has never let her guard down for any man. Only you.”

“Is that true?” Tears prick the back of his eyes and he quickly looks down.

“I’ve never seen her as happy. Or as sad,” she says, solemnly.

He rests his head in his hands, and discreetly wipes a tear away.

“You made a huge mistake at that wedding, Will. She was finally ready to open up to you that night. Did you know that?”

Will closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. He felt it, but he didn’t know for sure.

“Do you have any clue how hard that was for her? As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, trust doesn’t come easily for Julia. She thought she knew you, but after the wedding she felt like she didn’t know you at all. She doesn’t trust herself or her judgment, which is really sad.”

They sit together in silence while Will rubs his throbbing temples.

I hurt her. Julia doesn’t trust me.

Gabby isn’t saying anything he doesn’t already know. But hearing it from someone else, her best friend, is painful.

“So, Will…what’s your plan? I’m trying to help you, but…I don’t know…” she hesitates, “It might be too late.”

“Why do you say that?” he asks, startled.
Too late?

“She started dating someone when she went back to New York.”

Will gasps, his eyes wide. Gabby knocked the wind right out of him.

“She’s dating someone?” he whispers.

“Oh, Will…” she smiles and pats his knee, “Did you think she’d always be available? Julia’s the real deal, but you already know that. I think you two could have something special.” Gabby looks directly into his eyes, “Don’t fuck it up.”

She stands abruptly and walks away.

She’s dating someone
… Of course he knew it was a possibility.  Lots of men have probably asked her out, but she never talks about that part of her life, and he doesn’t like to think about the men she meets in New York.

He’s been in denial.

He’s had the opportunity to date other women over the past year, but hasn’t wanted to,
especially
since April. Julia’s been on his mind constantly, and the few women he’s met don’t interest him at all.

He wants to know about the guy she’s seeing.
Is it serious?
He can’t ask her, but the question is gnawing at his stomach. He can’t stand the thought of another man touching her. His heart aches knowing he’s responsible for this, he pushed her into someone else’s arms.

Gabby seems to think he still has a chance with Julia. That’s promising, but if he has to settle for friendship, he has only himself to blame.

Ellie’s home for the holiday weekend and Will pulled her aside almost the second she walked through the door, and lead her down to the dock near their parent’s house. This has always been their spot, where they share confidences and dispense advice to one another.

He needs to come up with a plan to gain Julia’s trust. Since the wake, he’s spent a lot of time with Julia, but she’s kept him at arm’s length.

“What should I do, El?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking, Will. She’s forgiven you, which makes her a better person than me! Or is it ‘than I?’  I can never remember…”

“Nice Eleanor. Way to make a guy feel good.”

“William, it’s going to take time for her to trust you again. If she didn’t care about you she wouldn’t have shown up at the house the morning her grandmother died. She wouldn’t have asked you to stay with her after the wake. She wouldn’t take the time to see you at all after that nightmare wedding you took her to. Time. Just keep doing what you’re doing!”