“And what’s your story, anyway?” he asked as they walked, his hands in his pockets. “You said everyone’s divorced, so I take it that you are too?”
“I am,” she said. “It’s pretty new. It’s sort of why I’m here.” She filled her lungs, wondering how much of her story she was willing to share with this guy. She hadn’t even told Celia and Ivy she was divorced, although she guessed they’d figured it out.
Maybe she could practice telling the truth to this stranger. Maybe he’d accept it and teach her something about the goodness of the world. Her eyes filled with tears that she quickly blinked away. “He had an affair, too,” she explained. “It was around the time I lost my job, and I’ve been sort of a wreck ever since. But worse than that, my husband, I mean my ex-husband, took a job in Singapore and left us in Manhattan to fend for ourselves. The alimony and child support is pathetic. I don’t know why I didn’t argue for more. And my daughter hates me because she thinks she should be with my husband. I mean, my ex-husband. But she doesn’t know he doesn’t want her. And I can’t tell her!”
Juliet gasped for air, realizing she’d been speaking too fast, too frantically. When she looked up at Hank, she thought she caught bewilderment on his face. But after a moment of silence, he tapped her shoulder. “Sounds like you have a lot on your mind.”
Juliet told herself to breathe. Hank had asked what her story was, and she’d told him. She’d actually been honest, for once. It felt beautiful, like the sun pouring over a previously rainy day.
“Hey, so. Are you hungry?” Juliet asked finally. Her stomach felt like it was eating itself.
“Starving,” Hank said.
“Maybe we could try there?” Juliet pointed to a restaurant not far away. Its lights were aglow against the night, and an OPEN sign was lit up with reds and yellows.
“Let’s do it.” Hank walked with purpose toward the restaurant, giving Juliet the sense that he always knew where he was going and never second-guessed himself. He held open the door and led her to a booth, where they sat and searched for whoever was working there.
“I bet this place is about to fill up,” Hank said. “Since the fireworks just finished.”
“You’re probably right,” Juliet said. “Tourist places like these are always swarming on major holidays.” But there was something haunted about this restaurant, she thought. something that gave her pause, that made her think that whoever was here didn’t have an eye for what a guest needed. Almost all of it, from the flooring to the walls to the windows, needed to be redone. And it was impossible to say what kind of food it served, as there were no menus and no specials written on the walls. Music came in through a tiny speaker, but it was scratchy and made it difficult to decipher what was being played.
Juliet had the sudden suspicion that they were in the wrong place. “Maybe we should go somewhere else?”
Hank shrugged. “If you want. I’m going to use the bathroom real quick, and then we can get out of here.” He got up, winked at her, then sauntered to a hallway that led him to the bathroom.
Juliet remained alone, cupping her elbows and watching as the smoke from the fireworks outside dissipated, revealing the black night filled with vibrant stars. The drone show had been little more than five minutes, allowing the traditional fireworks to reign. But Juliet understood what Danica meant about the drones. Tiny robots like that, creating a show, felt almost as disconcerting as fire blasts in the sky.
There was the sound of a swinging door, and Juliet turned, expecting to see Hank coming back for her. But instead, a man stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. He wore chef whites and a thick apron, and he had headphones on, which was maybe why he hadn’t heard them come in before. Juliet thought, That’s not how you run a business. He had the air of someone too clueless to figure something like that out. Or too pure.
And then, he said, “Juliet?”
Juliet felt a jolt of adrenaline. It was Theo, Theo Maddox, standing before her. She couldn’t believe it, but her eyes weren’t deceiving her. She got to her feet, unable to do anything but whisper, “Theo? What are you doing here?”
But of course that was a stupid question. Theo was always here.
12
February 2005
It wasn’t till the day they completed the mural that Theo forced himself to reckon with his feelings for Callie. Cleaning up the last of the paintbrushes and assessing the last details of their work, Theo and Callie were boisterous and very pleased, so much so that Theo decided to ask Callie to get burgers with him for dinner to celebrate. Callie blinked twice at him, then said, “Should we invite Juliet?”
But all week, Juliet had been talking about a phone call she had coming up with an agent who lived in Manhattan. She’d somehow discovered his contact details via the internet and applied out of the blue. “He’s the real deal,” she said so often of the agent. “He knows what he’s doing.” Regardless of what they were meant to be doing (watching television or doing homework or eating together), she was prepping for it almost all the time, asking Callie and Theo to pretend to be the agent and ask her questions about her knowledge of the fashion world. “Try to make it confusing, so I get used to being spontaneous and creative. Like, in the moment of the interview,” she’d asked. Theo couldn’t care less about the fashion world, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to fake it, so much so that he’d begun to ask Juliet ridiculous questions (as the pretend agent) that made her sort of angry.
“Come on, Theo,” Juliet had groaned. “Don’t you want me to be successful?”
Now, as Callie gazed up at him, a smidge of paint on her cheek, he found he didn’t want to tell Callie that he was annoyed with Juliet. He also didn’t want to tell Callie that he hadn’t been able to sleep all week because he felt as though he were falling in love with Callie, not with Juliet.
This was a rare and strange time indeed.
They bundled up and walked through the snowy streets of downtown Bluebell. Theo eyed Callie every now and again and found himself startled at her beauty and the shine of her blond hair. He couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to realize that Callie was kind and funny and sharp-witted. He’d been so distracted by Juliet, by Juliet’s beauty and incredible plans.
They grabbed a booth at the back of the restaurant. Theo told himself that they weren’t hiding, not from Juliet and not from anyone else, but the truth was probably more complicated than that. After all, if Juliet walked by and saw them eating without her, she’d definitely get jealous.
Callie knew that, too. But she didn’t say so.
They ordered burgers and decided to share onion rings and fries. Theo got a chocolate milkshake, and Callie got a strawberry shake. They smiled foolishly at each other. An old pop song from the eighties came on the speakers, and Theo had the sense that they were at the beginning of a remarkable story.
He’d never felt this way before.
