Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julia
Later that evening, when the hangover had worn off, I took advantage of the free time I had and decided to simply relax. Bethey was at work and wouldn’t be back until late—she had an article that had to be in before midnight, and the reporter she worked under had kept her at the office to make sure it got done.
Lying on the sofa, shuffling through Facebook on my cell, I jumped when it rang. Mom appeared on my screen, so I answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, yourself, Julia Bengal. You haven’t called me in nine days. That’s two days longer than you’ve ever waited to call home. So what gives?”
I hadn’t realized that many days had gone by since I’d talked to her. “Sorry, Mom. My head has been in the clouds. Something has happened.”
“Like what?”
Unsure whether or not I should tell her anything about Artimus, I thought I probably should. If he ever did come around, then I would have to introduce them anyway. “I’ve fallen in love, Mom.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. When she did, she sounded cynical. “With who?”
“Artimus Wolfe.” The sound of his name hung in the air. My insides felt as if hundreds of tiny fairies were sprinkling their magic dust around everywhere, just at the mention of his name.
Then her shrill voice pulled me out of my wonderful little moment. “Your boss?”
Yeah, she’s not going to take it well.
“Technically, yes. But he’s so much more than that, and always has been, really.” I had to sit up, taking a more formal stance so I could make a proper argument. “He’s so great, Mom. Like you have no idea how great he is.”
“Oh, I’ve got some kind of idea about the man, Julia.” The sound of her swatting something told me she was chasing the cat out of the house again. The old tabby cat loved to be inside, but she couldn’t stop herself from clawing up the sofa.
“And what kind of idea do you have, Mom?” I asked with a sarcastic tone.
“The idea that he’s taking advantage of you and you’ll come home after losing this great job you’ve managed to get. You don’t understand this about yourself, and I suppose it’s my fault for letting it go on too long. Frankly, it kept you from becoming a problem as a teenager, so your father and I were more than happy when you kept up your story about soulmates and finding ‘the one.’ It gave us no reason to worry about you.”
It bothered me that she thought she and Dad had anything to do with the way I thought. “So, what is this thing that I don’t understand about myself, Mom?”
“You don’t understand that you’ve made it impossible for any man to live up to your standards. When this guy falls short of your grand expectations, this will be over. You and he will end, and so will your job. Can’t you see that?” The sound of the screen door slamming let me know she’d chased the cat outside.
Is she right?
But it wasn’t just her, was it? She was the fourth person to tell me that I had set my expectations too high for any mere mortal man to live up to. Could they all be wrong?
I have to be fooling myself.
“Mom, do you think I’m capable of changing the way I think?” I had to know if the one person who knew me best thought I was capable of changing in this.
“No.” She made my heart spin out of control with that one word.
“No?” I nearly cried.
“Not without some serious heartbreak, Julia. Or some therapy.” She sighed, and I knew she felt responsible. “This is my fault. I read you tons of fairytales when you were little. Prince Charming always showed up, and he and the princess would know in an instant that they had found their perfect match. But those are just stories, Julia.”
I fell back on the sofa, covering my eyes with my arm. “Mom, what I see, what I think, isn’t like those stories you read to me. I don’t need a hero. I am not a damsel in distress. I just want to find the one man who was meant for me. And I know you think I’m crazy, or that my expectation are too high, but I’ve found him. I know I have.”
“And have you told him how you feel—about him and about relationships in general?” she asked with skepticism.
“I have,” I said boldly.
“Okay. So, has he confessed his undying love for you and told you that he knows you’re the one for him too, the way you’ve always said would happen?” Now she’d done it. She was throwing my old words back in my face.
I sat up, new determination sparking my ire. “I was a kid back then, Mom. I didn’t know how life worked back then. I’m an adult now. And Artimus has told me that life has jaded him somewhat. He’s not yet the man he needs to be for me. He needs time.”
“Time,” she said with a huff. “For what, baby girl? To figure out how to let you down without bruising your ego? Time to look for a new assistant, since the one he has is a little on the loopy side?”
I stopped breathing as I processed what she said. My mother had called me crazy. She’d never done that before.
Am I crazy?
“Whatever happened to Price Stone?” she asked me. “Now that guy had his head on straight. He let you know how it really is. I suppose you didn’t like him doing that. But he was right, Julia. Expecting the perfect connection and the perfect relationship right from the get-go is silly and impractical. Relationships take time, and you’re throwing away good men just because you don’t feel like magical connection with them right at the first glance. Don’t be mad at Price and shut him out just because he had the balls to be truthful with you. This Artimus fella would do better by you if he was more like Price.”
She was wrong about Price, but I didn’t want to get into it with her about that. “Do you really think that Artimus is just placating me?”
She laughed. “He has to be, darling. Think about it. Not everyone—and especially not some fancy New York billionaire, I’d bet—is ready to promise their life away before testing the physical relations waters a bit first. There might be some men out there who would be okay with that, but I’ve yet to meet one.”
I thought there had to be lots of people who would do that. In other cultures, things like that happened all the time. In some countries, divorce wasn’t even allowed.
But did that mean that their marriages were happy?
I had no idea what that answer was.
Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I had lived in a fantasy world a little bit.
“I told Artimus that I trusted him.” I ran my hand up and down my arm, which had goosebumps all over it remembering that intense moment. “I told him that we could have a relationship without him promising me forever.”
She hummed a little before saying, “And yet he didn’t jump on that, did he?”
No, he hadn’t jumped on it. And I had found that admirable at the time.
But maybe he hadn’t jumped on that because he had already lost interest.
I felt lost. “Mom, what can I do?”
“Just do your job. Lay off the love stuff. If you don’t say anything about it, then he might not either. He sounds as if he’s non-confrontational. That can be a good thing. That means there’s a very good chance that he’ll let this thing blow over and you will get to keep your job.”
Can I do that?
My mouth opened, and my words poured out before I could hold them back. “Mom, I love him though.” My eyes filled with tears. “I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
“Well, you better.” She clucked her tongue. “If you don’t, then you can count yourself unemployed very soon. Mark my words.”
I hated when she said that. She’d never been wrong after saying those three words.
Mom was very perceptive and had great intuition, so she just seemed to have a way of knowing things. I had to give her that. But how much could she really know about what Artimus thought and what he would do?
She didn’t know the man at all.
“Mom, I feel kind of sick. I should get off the phone. I think I’ll take a long bath with a bottle of wine and try to pull my head out of my ass. Apparently, it has been stuck up there for my whole life.”
“I love you, baby girl. And I am sorry for letting this thing go on far too long. I had high hopes that Price Stone would set you straight so then I wouldn’t have to.”
“Love you too, bye.” I ended the call, not feeling good about anything.
I was a looney bird. I had never felt so ridiculous, so dumb. And I had no idea how I could make Artimus see me as anything other than a nut-job when even my own mother was calling me crazy.
Getting up, I went to the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine to help drown my sorrows. On the counter, I saw Bethey’s house keys. She’d left them behind again.
After opening a bottle of red, I went to unlock the door. After the bath, I would be heading to bed and didn’t want to be woken up when she came home.
I shot Bethey a text, letting her know her keys were home and I’d left the door unlocked, and that I was going to go to bed early. She sent back a thank you, then I went to fill up the tub with hot soapy water, hoping it would help wash my craziness away.
It was obviously time to at least loosen up on my naive dream of having just one man for me; if not let it go entirely. I was tired of people thinking I was crazy. I didn’t think my vision for the future would go away entirely—I would never stop thinking I deserved the love of a committed man—but maybe I had to learn how to hide it. And maybe I could loosen up my rules on physical intimacy just a little.
But the thought of engaging in any kind of sexual activity with anyone other than Artimus made me shudder—and not in a good way.
So maybe my future wouldn’t include the man I thought was made just for me. But I might find someone I could at least stand to be around.
Going back the kitchen, I poured myself a glass of wine, filling it to the tippy top, then going to the bathroom to strip down and settle into what I prayed, by some miracle, would be healing water.
If there were any miracles.
Perhaps those weren’t real either.
My cell rang so I looked at it, as I’d placed it within reach on the vanity. Price’s name was on the screen. I didn’t answer it, letting it go to voicemail. But my eyes couldn’t seem to leave the phone.
I knew I needed to let Artimus know that I was dropping this whole thing. It would make the next day, when we were at work, easier.
It would be too hard to say the words, so I texted them.
Artimus, I’m sorry. You must think I’m crazy. And you’re probably right. I must be. I am taking this whole thing off the table. I don’t want you to worry about me bringing up anything about us or how we were meant to be together ever again. I think it’s time I let go of these childish ideas about love and romance, and I’m sorry I involved you in my silly fantasies. Please feel free to act normal at work. I’ll try my best to do that too. If we can’t find a way to put my craziness behind us, then I will resign.
I read over the words ten times before I sent that text. Then I turned my cell off. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else today. I needed time to focus on getting my head right, taking it out of the clouds and grounding myself in reality for once in my life.
Tomorrow will be the first day of my life as a normal person who is more open-minded about love, and who doesn’t think that one man, one woman, forever entangled in body and soul, is the only relationship worth having.