“I thought you were leaving town for a meeting.”
“I was. But it turns out the meeting got canceled. Or rather, my part of it got canceled. I’m free all weekend.”
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Something very special. I’d like to keep it a surprise, though.”
Julie didn’t answer right away, and as if sensing her uncertainty, Richard reached for her hand. “You’ll love it, Julie. Trust me on this. But you’ll have to get off a little early. I’d have to pick you up at your place around four o’clock.”
“Why so early?”
“It takes a while to get where we’re going. Do you think you can make it?”
She smiled. “I’ll have to shuffle my schedule a bit, but I think I can make it. Should I wear something dressy or casual?”
It was a polite way of asking if she should pack a bag. If he said both, it meant a weekend away, and she couldn’t see them doing that just yet.
“I’ll be wearing a jacket and tie, if that helps.”
It certainly sounded like a legitimate date. “I guess I’ll have to do some shopping,” she finally said.
“I’m sure you’ll be beautiful no matter what you wear.”
With that he kissed her again, and when he finally left, Julie’s fingers traveled to the locket. It opened with a click, and she saw she was right in assuming small photos could be placed inside. She was surprised to see that he’d already had it engraved with her initials, one on each side.
The Guardian
“This is not looking good, little brother,” Henry admitted. “I don’t care what Emma said the other night. This is not looking good.”
“Thanks for the update, Einstein,” Mike grumbled.
“Let me give you some advice.”
“More advice?”
Henry nodded, as if telling Mike there was no reason to thank him. “Before you do anything, you’re going to have to come up with some sort of plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
“I don’t know. But if I were you, I’d make it a good one.”
The Guardian
“It’s lovely,” Mabel said, eyeing the locket. “I guess he’s really taken with you, huh? It looks like it cost a small fortune.” She motioned toward the locket. “Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead,” Julie said, leaning forward.
Mabel looked it over. “And it’s definitely not from one of the jewelers in town. This looks handmade.”
“Do you think so?”
“I’m sure of it. Not only that, you’ve learned something important about Richard Franklin.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s got good taste.”
Mabel let go of the locket, and Julie felt it tap gently against her chest. She looked at it again. “Now I just have to find a couple of pictures to go inside.”
Mabel’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, honey-if you’re beating around the bush, don’t worry about it. I’d be more than happy to give you a picture of me to carry with you. I’d be honored, in fact.”
Julie laughed. “Thanks. You were the first one I thought of, you know.”
“I’m sure. So-you gonna put a picture of Singer in there?”
At the mention of his name, Singer looked up. He’d been standing beside Julie since she’d come back into the salon, and Julie ran her hand along his back.
“With this bozo, I’d probably have to stand a hundred yards away to get one of him that would fit.”
“True,” Mabel said. “What’s going on with him, anyway? He’s been so clingy lately.”
“I have no idea. But you’re right-he’s been driving me crazy. I keep stumbling over him every time I turn around.”
“How is he with Richard? At home, I mean?”
“Like he is here,” she said. “He stares, but at least he doesn’t growl like he did the first time.”
Singer whined, a low squeak emerging from his throat, sounding almost too small to be coming from him.
Quit complaining, it seemed to mean. We both know you love me no matter how I act.
The Guardian
A plan, Mike thought, I need a plan.
Mike rubbed his chin, unaware that he was leaving grease along his jaw. Henry was right, he thought. For once, the guy had actually said something important, something that made sense. A plan was definitely what he needed.
But the problem, Mike soon realized, was that it was a lot easier to say that he needed a plan than to actually come up with one. Mike wasn’t much of a planner and never had been. Things just sort of happened and he went along with the flow, like a cork bobbing atop the waves. Usually that wasn’t such a bad thing. For the most part, he was happy; for the most part, he felt pretty good about himself, even if the whole artist and musician thing hadn’t worked out so far.
But now the stakes were a little higher. The chips were down, and it was time to lay the cards on the table. Put up or shut up. The going was rough, and it was time to get going. There was no time like the present, because the early bird catches the worm.
It was time to “Just do it.”
But even though all the clichés seemed appropriate, he still wasn’t sure what to do.
A plan.
The whole problem was that he didn’t know where he should start. In the past, he’d been the good guy, the friend, the one she could always count on. The one who fixed her car and played Frisbee with Singer, the one who spent the first two years after Jim’s death holding her as she cried. None of those things had seemed to matter; all they’d done was lead to the first two dates with Richard. Then, changing everything last week, he’d avoided her. He hadn’t talked to her, hadn’t called her at home, hadn’t stopped by just to say hi. And the net result? She hadn’t called, either, she hadn’t stopped by, and in the end, based on what he’d seen on the street, all that had done was lead to a third date with Richard.
So what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just stroll over there and ask her out. Odds were she was going out with Richard, and what was he supposed to say to that? Oh, you’re busy Saturday? How about Friday? Or next week, maybe? How about breakfast, then? That, he thought, would make him look desperate, which according to Henry was something he had to avoid at all costs.
A plan.
Mike shook his head. The worst part about this whole thing was plan or no plan, he was lonely.
Yeah, the whole situation with Richard was a royal bummer of the worst kind, but over the last couple of years, he’d grown used to talking to Julie at least once a day. Sometimes more than that.
He’d be heartbroken if Julie and Richard ended up together. But if that happened, it happened. In time, he might be able to accept something like that.
But what he couldn’t bear to face was the possibility of feeling the way he’d been feeling this last week or so. It wasn’t simply frustration, or fear, or even jealousy. It wasn’t depression, either. More than anything, he missed Julie.
He missed talking to her, seeing her smile, hearing the sound of her laughter. Watching the way her eyes, in the late afternoon when the sun was just right, seemed to change from green to turquoise. Listening to the quick intakes of breath whenever she was getting close to the end of a funny story. Even the way she punched him in the arm sometimes.
Maybe he should just head over later and talk to her, the same way he always had, as though nothing had changed between them. Maybe he’d even tell her that he was glad she’d had a good time the other night, the way Mabel or Henry or Emma would.
No, he thought, suddenly changing his mind. I won’t go that far. No reason to get carried away. Take it one step at a time.
But I will talk to her.
He knew it wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he could come up with.
Eight
The Guardian
“Hey, Julie,” Mike called, “wait up!”
Julie turned to see Mike jogging toward her as she was heading to her car. Singer loped off in his direction, reaching him first. Lifting first one paw and then the other, he looked as if he were trying to grab Mike in preparation for a series of sloppy, friendly licks. Mike avoided that-as much as he liked Singer, it was a little disgusting to be drenched with dog saliva-but he did pet him. Like Julie, he also talked to Singer as if he were a person.
“Did you miss me, big guy? Yeah, yeah, I missed you, too. We should do something together.”
Singer’s ears went up, looking interested, and Mike shook his head.
“No Frisbee today-sorry. I meant later.”
It didn’t seem to matter to Singer. As Mike started toward Julie again, Singer spun and walked beside him, nudging him playfully. Of course, playful was a relative term. The dog nearly sent Mike careening into the mailbox before he caught his balance.
“I think you need to take your dog for a few more walks,” he said. “He’s all wound up.”
“He’s just excited to see you. How are you? I haven’t seen too much of you lately.”
“I’m good. Just busy, that’s all.”
As he answered, he couldn’t help but notice that her eyes were very green today. Like jade.
“Me too,” she said. “How was it with Henry and Emma the other night?”
“It was fun. Wish you could have made it, but . . .”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter, though Julie knew-from what Richard had told her-that it probably did. He surprised her, however, by immediately changing the subject. “I did get some good news, though,” he said. “The band that was playing? Ocracoke Inlet? On my way out the other night, Drew asked me if I’d fill in for their guitarist. Their regular guy’s got to go to a wedding in Chicago the next time they’re supposed to be at the Clipper.”
“Wow-that’s great. When is that?”
“In a couple of weeks. I know it’s just a one-time thing, but it should be fun.”
“Playing for a full house, you mean?”
“Sure,” he said. “I mean, why not? I know most of the songs, and the band’s not all that bad.”
“That’s not what you told me before.”
“They never asked me to play before.”
“Oh-jealous, were you?”
As soon as she said the word she regretted it, but Mike didn’t seem to notice.
“No, not jealous. Miffed, yes, but jealous, no. And who knows where it might lead? Could end up being exactly what I need to get something more regular.”
“Well,” Julie said, not wanting to dim his enthusiasm, “I’m glad it worked out.”
For a moment neither of them said anything, and Mike shuffled his feet.
“So what have you been up to? I mean-I know you’ve been seeing Richard, but I haven’t talked to you much. Anything exciting going on?”
“No, not much. Singer’s been driving me nuts, but that’s about it.”
“Singer? What’s he been doing?”
Julie filled him in on Singer’s recent behavior, and Mike laughed. “Maybe he needs some Prozac or something.”
“Who knows. But if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to buy an outdoor doghouse.”
“Listen-I’d be glad to take him off your hands anytime. I’ll take him to the beach, and by the time he gets home, he’ll be exhausted. He won’t have the energy to growl or bark or follow you around for the rest of the day.”
“I might just take you up on that.”
“I hope so. I love the big guy.” He reached out to Singer. “Don’t I?”
Singer received Mike’s affection with a friendly bark.
“So any good Andrea stories lately?” Mike asked. Andrea was a frequent topic of conversation between them.
“She told me about her date on Saturday.”
Mike’s nose wrinkled. “The guy she was with at the Clipper?”
“You saw him?”
“Yeah. He was one ugly dude. Had a gold tooth and everything. I thought she’d hit the low mark with that guy with the patch, but I guess I was wrong.”
Julie laughed. “I wish I’d seen him. Mabel said exactly the same thing.”
She then launched into a description of the things Andrea had said about Cobra. Mike particularly enjoyed the whole Ed DeBoner thing, though why that part bothered Andrea and his other flaws didn’t was beyond him. By the end, Julie was laughing, too.
“What’s with her, anyway?” Mike asked. “Can’t she see what everyone else does? I almost feel sorry for her.”
“At least you don’t have to work with her. Although, to be honest, it does keep things entertaining around the salon.”
“I’ll bet. Oh-by the way, Emma wanted me to tell you to give her a call. At least, that’s what Henry said.”
“Will do. Do you know what it’s about?”
“No, not really. Probably wants to give you a new recipe or whatever it is you two talk about.”
“We don’t talk about recipes. We talk about good stuff.”
“In other words, you gossip.”
“It’s not gossip,” she protested. “It’s called keeping in touch.”
“Well, listen, if you hear anything good, give me a ring, okay? I’ll be in all night. And maybe we can set something up so I could get Singer off your hands, at least for a little while. Maybe this weekend?”
Julie smiled. “You got it.”
The Guardian
I’m glad I did that, Mike thought, feeling rather pleased with himself.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the most highbrow or intimate conversation, but it did reassure him that Julie still enjoyed talking to him. They’d joked around, they’d laughed together, and that counted for something, didn’t it? Of course it did!
He’d played it just right-kept the conversation light, avoided anything touchy, and best of all, he felt confident that they’d probably talk again later, after she’d spoken to Emma. Emma always said something worth repeating, and if on the odd chance she didn’t, the whole “I’d be glad to help with Singer” thing was practically a guarantee that Julie would call.