The Girl Who Chased the Moon

Chapter 14

Julia parked her truck by the Dumpster behind the restaurant and thought, What in the hell have I just done? Sawyer had gotten her so mad that she’d slept with him. Or was that really the reason? Maybe it had just been the excuse she’d needed. But everything was messed up now. She didn’t know what to do. There was no goal now, no plan. And now she had to go into her restaurant, which was already packed, wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing yesterday, and smelling of him. She adjusted the rearview mirror and looked at herself. God, she even had beard burn.

She groaned and put her head on the steering wheel. She could go home, she supposed. But then people might come by and ask where she’d been, if something was wrong. It wasn’t worth all the additional explaining. And Sunday was the busiest day at the restaurant, the day that brought in the most money. She had to do this.

She tried to smooth her hair back a little, but it didn’t help much. She sighed and got out.

Coming in through the back meant walking a few steps into the seating area itself, just past the restrooms. She tried to sneak in, but found herself stopping when she saw just how full the place was. She knew how well the business was doing from a financial standpoint, but it was an entirely different experience to see it for herself. Her father would have loved this. He would have been out there talking to people, making them feel welcome, catching up on news. For a moment, she could even see him, in his T-shirt and jeans, ball cap and half-apron He was a wisp of man, another ghost in her life. But then someone passed by her line of vision and she lost him. She suddenly wondered, when she left this place, would he still be here? Would his memory live on?

“Hey, Julia!” someone called from a table, and several people turned to her. More people called out. A few waved. A couple of old ladies she’d gone to church with when she was a kid even got up to invite her to the Sunday night service. Normally, she was here so early that she never saw these people. Oh, she would see them in the grocery store and on the street, but they were never this friendly. For some reason, seeing her here made it different for them. Here, she was the restaurant owner. She was the reason they still had this place to come to, to gather, to socialize. Here, she was Jim’s daughter. And they saw in that something to be admired.

Julia smiled at them, a little dazed, and sidestepped her way into the kitchen.

Hours later, in the thick of the lunch rush, Julia finally finished her cakes. They were being sliced and served even as she stood behind the counter and wrote the names of the day’s cakes on the chalkboard.

She didn’t know it, but while she was in the kitchen, her stepmother, Beverly, had come in, but obviously not to eat. She was waiting for Julia at a table near the door. When she got up, the couple she’d been sitting with looked relieved.

“Julia!” Beverly said as she approached, waving a large brown envelope. Several men looked her way. “I stopped by Stella Ferris’s house looking for you because you’re never here at the restaurant at lunchtime. What are you doing here at lunchtime? You’re only here early in the morning. Everyone knows that. You should set a routine and stick to it.”

Julia was too tired, both emotionally and physically, to deal with Beverly today. She set the chalkboard down. “Let’s talk some other time, Beverly. I’m exhausted and I want to go home.” And where was that, exactly? she thought. Her apartment at Stella’s? Her dad’s old house? Baltimore? Nothing was clear anymore.

“No, no, no. I’m put out enough with you already, missy. If I had known you’d be here, I would have come here first instead of stopping at Stella’s house and waiting for you. That woman is such an odd duck. What are you doing here at lunchtime?” she asked again. “You’re never here at lunchtime.”

“I own this place, Beverly. I can come and go anytime I please.”

“Speaking of which… Excuse me, hon,” she said to a man sitting at the counter as she hipped her way between him and the man beside him. It was a tight fit, but she didn’t seem to mind. Neither did the men. “Here’s the surprise I was talking about!” She slapped the envelope on the counter in front of Julia. “Your father would be so proud of me. I had my lawyer draw up partnership papers for this place. All you have to do is sign over half of J’s Barbecue to me. That way, when we sell it, we can split the profit.”

The men on either side of Beverly looked at Julia curiously, waiting, as Beverly was, for her to say something. People at a nearby table heard, too. The news soon made its way around the room like smoke.

Julia stared at the envelope on the counter. This shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Just like last night shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.

At least a full minute passed before Beverly began to look uncomfortable. “Now, Julia, you know I deserve this.” She leaned in and said in a softer voice, “I thought we had an understanding.”

“My understanding,” Julia said, finally looking up from the envelope, “is that my father loved you, but you left him.”

That had the restaurant quiet in seconds.

Beverly scooped up the envelope. “Obviously, you’re cranky. From the look of you, you haven’t had much sleep. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that those are the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. Clean up a little, and I’ll meet you outside.”

“No, Beverly. This ends here,” Julia said, and it all came flooding out. “You were everything to him, to the detriment of his relationship with me. I ceased to exist when you came into his life. These scars you like to point out every time you see me were because he wouldn’t look at me once you appeared. He worked damn hard at this business, but it was never good enough for you, was it? When it stopped making money, as paltry as it had been, you left him. Do you honestly think I’m going to give you half of it? That you deserve it?”

Beverly pursed her thin lips, which were lined in pearly peach. “You could learn a thing or two about casting stones. You left him first. And you were the reason he was so deeply in debt. It was all your fault, missy, so don’t get all high and mighty on me.”

Julia couldn’t believe her gall. “How could I be the reason he was in debt?”

Beverly laughed resentfully. “How do you think he paid for that reformatory you went to? What little he made was still too much to apply for aid, and because you were from out of state, the fee was even higher. He mortgaged everything he had for you, you ungrateful girl. And I still didn’t leave him then. I only left when Bud started showing an interest in me and your father didn’t say a word about it. He stopped appreciating me a long time ago. All he talked about was you. How you were the first in his family to go to college, how you lived in the big city, how you were making your dream come true. He conveniently forgot that you tried to shred yourself to pieces, that you got knocked up at sixteen, that you took all his money and then never came back to see him.” Julia could see the surprise on the faces of some people in the restaurant. What people didn’t know about the scars on her arms, they inferred, but no one knew she’d been pregnant when she left.

As blindsided as she was by this news, by what her father had sacrificed for her, something in her mind clicked, and it made perfect sense. He’d never been good at expressing himself. She’d spent a long time in therapy, trying to adjust her expectations, especially from the men in her life. She’d thought she’d wanted grand gestures and expressive declarations, because her father never gave her that. Sometimes she thought that even falling for Sawyer when she was a teenager, how larger-than-life he was, was looking for something missing in her relationship with her father. But how could she have missed this? Everything her father did was quiet. Even loving her. The tragedy was that no one in her father’s life had ever understood that. Everyone had left him because they’d hadn’t been quiet enough to hear him. Not until it was too late.

But no, she thought. It wasn’t too late.

Tears came to Julia’s eyes. She wiped them away. She couldn’t believe she was doing this in front of everyone. “He was a good, uncomplicated man,” Julia said. “And he deserved better than us both. You’re not going to get any piece of this restaurant, Beverly. No one is. This was the one thing that never let him down. His only constant. Too many people have taken too many things from him as it is.” She pointed to the door. “You’re not welcome here ever again.”

“Oh, I’ll be back,” Beverly said, sashaying to the door. “When you leave, I’ll be right back in here and there won’t be a thing you can do about it.”

“I’ll be sure she knows she’s not welcome,” Charlotte, the day manager, said from behind Julia.

“So will I,” the new waitress said.

“I’ll remind her,” one of the men at the counter said.

“Me too,” said someone across the room. The restaurant then became a chorus of agreement.

Beverly looked aghast. She glared at Julia. “See, this is what you do! You go and leave all sorts of trouble behind.”

“I’ve got news for you,” Julia said. “I’m not leaving.”

The restaurant erupted into applause as Beverly left.

Julia stood there, breathing heavily, and thought again, What in the hell have I just done?

“THERE YOU are!” Stella said, meeting her at the door when Julia finally got home. She was wearing what she called her day gown, a silk robe with buttons her mother had given her. She said it made her feel like a lady of leisure. “I’ve been so worried! Where were you last night? Even your evil stepmother came by looking for you.”

“Why did you sleep with Sawyer?” Julia blurted out, right there in the foyer. She hadn’t meant to say it. She was as surprised as Stella looked.

“What?” Stella said.

“Sawyer said you slept together, three years ago. Do you love him?”

“Oh, that,” Stella said. “It was terrible. Not the sex… at least what I remember of it. But I was a mess. My divorce had just been finalized and all my money was gone. Sawyer came by that evening to give me a bottle of champagne to celebrate my freedom. I got drunk and I climbed all over him. I’m not proud of it. Believe me, I never wanted to be the woman men had sex with out of pity. It was just once, and I tried to avoid him after that, but he wouldn’t let me. Sawyer’s a good guy. A good friend. Why do you ask?” Stella clutched at her heart dramatically. “Oh my God! That’s where you were last night! You totally did it with Sawyer!”

Julia didn’t answer, but she must have given something away with her look.

Stella drew her into her arms for a tight hug. “I’m so happy. That man has always had a thing for you. I have no idea why he waited so long. I used to tease him that he was afraid of you.” She took Julia’s hand and led her to the living room, where she had been fortifying herself with a pitcher of Bloody Marys. “So, tell me everything! What happened? When? How many times?”

Julia shook her head as she sat down and accepted the drink Stella gave her. “Uh-uh. No way.”

“You have to tell me. You’re my best friend,” Stella said, which startled Julia. “It’s the code. I tell you everything that’s happening in my life.”

“You didn’t tell me about Sawyer,” she said, taking the celery stalk out of the drink and biting into it.

“Sawyer isn’t happening in my life. He already happened. A long time ago.”

Julia set the glass back on the tray. “Am I really your best friend?”

“Of course you are.”

“But you used to laugh at me in high school.”

Surprised, Stella sat down heavily on the chair opposite Julia. “High school was a long time ago. Are you saying you can’t be my best friend now because of what happened back then?”

“No,” Julia said, being honest with herself for the first time in a long time. Her friendships in Baltimore had never felt like this. Her friends there had accepted her for who they thought she was. Stella accepted her for who she really was. This place defined her. It always had. Stella knew that. “I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“That’s more like it,” Stella said. “Now, tell me everything.”

THE FIRST thing Sawyer said when Julia opened the door a few hours later was, “Let’s get this out of the way. There’s nothing going on between me and Holly.”

Julia leaned against the doorjamb. It was so nice to see him, but there was so much that needed to be said. “The two of you look good together. You match. Have you ever considered getting back together?”

“I don’t want to match. Holly is selling me her part of the house we own together here. She’s getting remarried in a couple of weeks. She’s pregnant. I completely forgot that she was coming to town this weekend.”

“That was my fault. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Do it again.” He tried to step into her apartment, but she froze, her hand on the doorknob. He stepped back. “You don’t want me to come in?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve always treated this place as temporary. There’s not much to it.” After all this time, she couldn’t believe she was still embarrassed.

“I don’t care what your apartment looks like.”

“Automatic response. Sorry.” She opened the door wider.

He stepped inside with a deep breath and a satisfied smile. He put his hands on his hips and looked like he’d conquered the New World. “I’ve wanted up here ever since you’ve been back. And it’s not what you’re thinking. On Thursdays when I have pizza with Stella, that incredible smell from whatever you happen to be baking… it never fails to make me heady.”

“Could you see it?” Julia asked.

“I can always see it. It’s on you now, sparkling in your hair.” He pointed to her hand. “You have some in the cuff of your sleeve, too.”

Julia turned the cuff inside out and, sure enough, flour and sugar from that morning sprinkled out. “That’s amazing.”

“Are you going to give me a tour?” Sawyer asked.

“We can do it from here.” She pointed to each door. “Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room.” She led him to the tiny living room and invited him to take a seat. She remained standing, too nervous to sit. “Stella’s mother gave me that love seat. I have a nice couch of my own in storage up in Baltimore.”

“Do you think you’ll bring it down?”

“I don’t know.”

He sat back, obviously making a concerted effort not to push the subject. “Did you actually get into a fight with Beverly at your restaurant this morning?”

That made Julia suddenly laugh. “Did Stella tell you, or did word travel that fast?”

“Both. What happened?”

“I had a few things to get off my chest. So did she, apparently.”

“I heard that you said you weren’t selling the restaurant,” he said carefully.

“What can I say? I’m as surprised as you are.”

“What about your two-year plan?” He hesitated. “Does this mean you’re staying?”

She didn’t answer right away. “You know that big thing I wanted to tell you? I’m going to tell you now. Then I’m going to leave you alone to let you think about it, okay?”

A guarded look came to his face. “Alone, as in leaving and never coming back?”

“Alone, as in leaving this apartment for a walk,” she said. “Then, who knows?”

“Okay,” he said. “Lay it on me.”

“Stay right there.” She went to her bedroom and reached under her bed, feeling around until she found the old algebra textbook she had hidden there. She opened the book and looked at the two photos she had of her baby. Sawyer’s baby. She’d put the photos in this book when she was at Collier, and could never think of anywhere else to store them. She set the book on her bed and took the photos to the living room. She felt jumpy, and her skin was alive with a thousand prickles.

He looked up at her as she entered. Before she could talk herself out of it, she held the photos out to him and he took them.

She watched as he looked at them, confused at first, then alert. He met her eyes with a short, quick jerk of his head.

“She was born on May fifth,” she said. “Six pounds, six ounces. She looked nothing like me and everything like you. Blond hair and blue eyes. A couple from Washington, D.C., adopted her.”

“I have a daughter?”

She nodded, then left before he could ask any more questions.

HEAT RADIATED from the metal bleachers in blurry, undulating light. Julia’s spot when she was a teenager was where the top bleacher butted against the enclosed media box, forming a pocket of concrete shade.

She hadn’t been here since she was sixteen. It felt different, but eerily the same. From here, she could see down onto the fifty-yard line where it had all happened, where her life had changed. The lumbering brick school building on the far side of the field was quiet, but the windows were open, indicating that teachers were in their classrooms, getting ready for the new school year. The cafeteria was on the ground floor and faced the field. She thought of what Sawyer had said about how he used to watch her on the bleachers at lunch.

She’d been there for at least an hour, wondering how much time he needed with this, or if all the time in the world wouldn’t be enough, when something suddenly caught her eye and, on the left side of the field, she saw Sawyer walking toward her.

He stopped at the base of the bleachers and looked up at her. The photos were in his hand. It was hard to tell his expression. Was he mad? Would this change everything all over again? The protective part of her steeled herself for that possibility, even though she knew she wasn’t as easily hurt as she’d been when she was sixteen. She had a lot fewer expectations than she did then. She had a very long list of Things She Would Never Have, and Sawyer had always been on that list, along with her daughter, long fingers, and the ability to turn back time.

He started up the bleachers toward her. The first step he took, he was sixteen, blond and cherubic, the wish every girl in school made when she blew out candles on her birthday cake. With every step he took, he got older, the cherubic cheeks giving way to sharper cheekbones, his skin growing more golden, his hair a darker blond. By the time he reached her, he was the Sawyer of today, of this morning… of last night.

Without a word, he sat beside her.

“How did you know I would be here?” she asked, because even she didn’t know she’d be here until she’d walked by and saw the school.

“Just a hunch.”

“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask.”

“I don’t have to ask the big question. I know why you didn’t tell me.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you know where she is now? What she’s doing?” He looked at the photos. “Her name?”

“No.” She tugged on the cuffs of her sleeves. “The papers are sealed. I can’t find her unless she wants to find me. You said you followed the scent home when your mother baked, so I have it in my head-in my heart-that if I just keep baking, she’ll find me. That this will bring her home.” Julia looked down, then across the field. Anywhere but him. “I think she has your sweet sense. I couldn’t eat enough cake to satisfy her when I was pregnant.”

“That’s what my mother said when she was pregnant with me.”

“I wanted to keep her so badly,” she said. “For a long time, I was angry at everyone for not helping me make that happen. It took a while to realize that it was just misplaced guilt, because I wasn’t well enough to care for her on my own.”

He was the one to look away this time. “Saying I’m sorry doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like I owe you so much more. I owe you for her.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I have a daughter.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “She was a gift.”

“Your hair is still pink in this photo.” He lifted the one of her holding the baby in the hospital. “When did you stop dyeing it?”

“When I went up to school. I cut it all off shortly after that photo was taken.”

“When did you start with the pink streak?” Julia nervously tucked it behind her ear. “In college. My friends in Baltimore think I do it to be edgy. But I do it because it reminds me of what I can get through… of what I have gotten through. It reminds me not to give up.”

There was a long silence. A maintenance man on a riding lawn mower drove onto the football field and started taking wide loops around it. Julia and Sawyer watched him. “Are you going to stay?” Sawyer finally asked.

How did she answer that? He was being very calm. She had no idea how he really felt. “I spent so much time telling myself that this wasn’t home that I started to believe it,” she said carefully. “Belonging has always been tough for me.”

“I can be your home,” he said quietly. “Belong to me.” She stared at him, stunned by his whispered grand gesture, until he turned to her. When he saw the tears in her eyes, he reached for her. She held on to him and cried, cried for so long her throat ached, cried until the football field was all mown and the air smelled of cut grass, and bugs swarmed the track.

To think, after all this time, after all the searching and all the waiting, after all the regret and the time she’d spent away, she came back to find that happiness was right where she’d left it.

On a football field in Mullaby, North Carolina.

Waiting for her.