Free to love, p.6
Free to Love, page 6
“I’m Mark Stewart,” the handsome man said a little bashfully, trying not to stare at Julie as her hair fell down off her shoulder and across her face.
“That’s nice. But I’m just interested in talking with Tobie,” Julie said seriously, looking down so the dog could get in one or two good licks across her cheek.
She looked at Mark, who pursed his eyebrows together as if he wasn’t sure he had heard her right.
“I’m just teasing,” she said, straightening up and extending her hand while giving him a wink. “I’m Julie.”
He shook her hand and laughed, looking at her a little funny as if he were winding a jack-in-the-box and just waiting for that final turn that tripped the trigger and the little clown popped out.
“I’ve never seen you around here. Are you new to the area?” Mark asked. He wanted to tell her that he would have remembered seeing such a beautiful girl since he walked with Tobie up there almost every evening. But he didn’t want to scare her away.
“Sort of,” Julie thought quickly. “I had the urge to travel and experience some adventure and thought traveling through the States on foot would be fun.”
“How many states have you gone through so far?” Mark asked, genuinely interested.
“Including California? One.”
“Have you ever been to California before?”
“Not to this part,” she said.
“Why don’t you let me show you around then? If you tell me where you’re staying perhaps, I don’t know, we could have dinner, and I’ll give you a tour of all the cool places.”
“All the places where the hip and trendy hang out? Red carpet and paparazzi and all that jazz?” Julie liked Mark and found him easy to talk with. It was easy to be herself. She hadn’t felt like that in a long time, either.
“Not quite,” Mark said, his eyes never leaving Julie’s face.
“I’d like that Mark but, well, I just got here today, and I have yet to find a place to stay for the night. My budget is limited. Very limited. Of course, I suppose as long as there are park benches and the forecast doesn’t call for rain I’m in good shape, right?” she looked at him, hopeful that he could help.
His face brightened.
“It is a good thing Tobie found you, Julie Peterson because I know just the place. There’s a woman who owns a fantastic piece of property a couple blocks down, who rents rooms by the day. Very reasonably priced. Maybe she will have a vacancy.”
“Reasonable is fine, but I am looking for cheap. All I need is four walls, a bed, and a bathroom.” She rolled her eyes but said her words proudly. “And the bathroom doesn’t even have to be connected to the room. I’m not picky.” There was nothing wrong with living within her means, and Julie was not going to pretend to be anything more than a girl backpacking through the country.
Mark was not just shocked by her honesty but impressed with it. He nodded, told her which direction the home was and asked, in the most chivalrous manner if he could escort her there. Tobie barked his approval.
“I don’t think I’d be able to sleep myself if I thought there was a chance you were curled up on some park bench. Those seagulls can be brutal with their aim.”
Julie laughed and agreed. Mark swung her backpack over his shoulder, and they started to walk in the opposite direction of the shore.
Unbeknownst to Julie, Mark decided to take the longest and most scenic route to the house he had talked about. As they walked through the street, more and more people were coming out to enjoy the warm, clear evening.
They passed by an independent bookstore and discussed the books they had read. They passed a sporting goods shop where Julie mentioned playing tennis, but not being very good at it. She always liked swimming and thought karate might be something she’d like to learn some day.
A bakery beckoned just about everyone who passed by with the fragrance of freshly baked bread and the presentation of the most beautiful little dainties Julie had ever seen. Her stomach growled, and she rubbed her tummy without thinking.
“I’m going to buy a baguette,” she said to Mark. In her mind, she thought many a prisoner in solitary confinement survived on just bread and water. She was not in solitary, so she figured she would fare much better.
They walked into the store together and as Julie looked around she saw a seven tiered wedding cake on display. It was beautiful, with elegant white roses and tiny, round, silver-colored candies all placed perfectly along a ribbon and bow of frosting.
It was a yellow cake with almond and truffle and all kinds of decadent sounding flavors mixed together.
“Look at that,” she said to Mark, pointing to the cake.
“Wow. Look. I know I am amazing, but Julie, we just met. I can’t pick out our wedding cake just yet.”
Nudging him with her elbow, Julie shook her head.
Taking her bread, she held it in her hands for just a second, letting the warmth seep through the paper and tingle across her palm. Then she took a huge bite. It was crispy and fluffy and tasted like butter had been slathered all over the inside.
“My gosh. Here. Take a bite.” She offered it to Mark, who took a small piece and nodded in agreement.
Mark found everything about Julie to be mesmerizing. He watched her chew and form her words as she spoke and throw her head back a little as she laughed. Her hands exaggerated her words, bringing her stories to life, and he couldn’t help but notice how she seemed to want to take everything in at once. Her eyes looked over each person who passed them, each store window they passed, the cracks on the sidewalk, the flowerpots outside the doors.
“The house is just up ahead, but if you aren’t too tired, there is one last place along the way I think you might like.”
Julie nodded her head up and down as her mouth was full of the last of the baguette.
She couldn’t see it, but Mark’s heart leapt inside his chest at her approval.
There was a badly weathered door outside a slightly rustic looking building. A large metal washtub sat outside the door and had beautiful flowers and foliage growing out from it and cascading down to the sidewalk.
Mark pulled the door open, setting off a tinkling of wind chimes that sounded like droplets of water against a tin roof.
Down a small hallway, they came to a huge room filled with paintings. There were a couple of people milling around, and Julie was instantly amazed at what she saw.
Overhead were several skylights, making it look almost as if the gallery had no roof. The pictures were well lit, and Julie was happy to walk around and admire the artwork. The wooden floor creaked just a little under her feet, and people spoke in hushed tones as if they did not want to disturb or distract the artwork that hung along the walls.
One picture caught Julie by surprise. She stood in front of it and felt as if she were in a holy space. It was a simple picture, really. It was just some trees and the light from the sun shining through them, penetrating the shadows of the forest. But Julie couldn’t stop looking at it. It was so perfect that it was hard to believe a person painted this picture and it wasn’t a photograph. The artists had to have seen this place, she thought. They had to have been in the darkness and seen the light slice its way through it gently, lovingly.
Her eyes filled with tears that she did not bother to hold back. Why should she? She saw not only the image of God’s beauty in this painting, but also in the hands that created it. Somewhere, the person who painted this picture was creating something else with the talent that was on loan from God. It made Julie wonder what the Father had in store for her. Whatever it was, she saw the light through the trees.
Mark and Tobie sidled up to her, and she quickly brushed her tears away, rolling her eyes at her emotional state.
“I just thought this was beautiful,” she said, jerking her head toward the painting. “I wish I could paint like that.”
“You like to paint?” Mark had a look of surprise on his face.
“I’ve had some private lessons, but I’m not as good as these artists. They’re the real deal.”
“Maybe if you stayed a while, some of the artists could teach you some helpful tips.” Mark couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for coming up with a wonderful idea to spend more time with this intriguing woman.
“That wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” Julie shifted her gaze to the other paintings in the room. She felt a pang of excitement at the thought, and the opportunity to spend more time with Mark, but it died as quickly as it came as the reality of her circumstances resurfaced.
“We better get going. You need some rest.”
Julie looked at her watch. It was almost nine o’clock.
“I hope this woman won’t mind my knocking so late,” Julie said as Mark led her back out of the gallery and onto the street.
They walked together a few more blocks. The sun had not set completely but still threw out a couple of rich purples and pinks across the sky. The breeze had picked up just a little. Enough to keep Julie pushing her hair off her face as she looked at Mark as he spoke. She couldn’t be sure what he was saying as she found herself getting a little lost in his eyes and smiling back to his smiles. But she knew she liked him.
“This is it. And look!” he pointed to the beautifully lit front porch. In the window was a big white sign with black letters that read vacancy.
“Wow! What a beautiful place. Mark, I appreciate your taking me all the way here, but I can tell I’m not going to be able to afford a room at this place. It looks like a southern plantation. How romantic,” she sighed.
Julie was spot on when she had said it looked like a southern plantation. The owner was from Georgia and had bought this piece of property and built this house after knocking down the modern monstrosity that had been there a few decades before. She recreated her home in the south complete with pillars, a wrap-around porch, outdoor ceiling fans, ferns in every corner and a white swing big enough for two to sip lemonade and watch the world roll by.
“Let’s not give up before we try,” Mark said and took Julie’s hand. They walked up to the front porch and rang the bell.
After a few minutes, an elegant older lady in a bright blue satin housecoat answered the heavy front door and looked at them through the screen. There was the most intricately woven colored thread over the lapel, cuffs, and pockets of the jacket. Sleek wide-legged pants showed from the knees down. She had hair cut to razor sharp edges in a bright blonde bob style. Her tanned skin had wrinkles, but her large green eyes sparkled with youth and recognition.
“Well! Well! Hello, stranger! How are you?” She folded her thin arms in front of her. Julie thought she had to have been a model at some time because every time she moved, it was graceful.
“I’m doing well, Mrs. Carter. How have you been?”
“That is the correct answer, young man. You wouldn’t know how I’ve been since you don’t come by to visit me anymore. Thankfully, I’m limping along.” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically then gave Julie a playful wink as she pushed open the screen door.
“C’mon in, guys. How about a nice cold pink lemonade. Made from scratch. Lots of sugar.”
“That sounds great,” Mark said, gently leading Julie by the hand. “Mrs. Carter, I’d like you to meet Julie Peterson. She’s looking for a place to stay for, what, a couple of nights. Maybe a week?” Mark was hoping to hear Julie commit to a couple of weeks, but when he looked at her, he could see she was a little uncomfortable.
“Wait. Before we get ahead of ourselves,” Julie said, following Mrs. Carter down the long hallways that led to an amazing kitchen. “Mrs. Carter, your home is beautiful and ...”
“Well, thank you, dear. You know, I grew up in Georgia in a house that looked exactly like this. My sister Mimi got the actual homestead. She was the baby of the family and always got what she wanted. She used to hold her breath until her face went beet red and her eyes would bulge just to get the last biscuit at the dinner table. Selfish to the core.”
Julie listened to Mrs. Carter talk. She could detect only a slight accent. She must have lived on the west coast so long, she lost almost all of it. She brought down three etched crystal glasses from the cupboard, dropped a fresh slice of lemon in each one, then a handful of ice cubes before finally pouring the pink liquid over everything in the glass.
She handed the first one to Julie.
“But, when I left the family home wouldn’t you know that little filly tossed all my things from childhood out onto the road at the end of our driveway? That was probably the most work she had ever done before or since. I guess she thought I was going to stick around forever and be her maidservant after Mama and Papa died. Do I look like someone who is a maidservant? Well, maybe I do, but I wasn’t going to be that girl’s mule.”
Julie looked at Mark as he grinned behind his pink lemonade.
“So tell me, Miss Julie, why do you need a room?”
Stuttering and tripping over her words just a little, Julie had suddenly become nervous as if she were in a job interview.
“Mrs. Carter, what I was trying to say was I don’t think I can afford a room here. You obviously have a beautiful home and need the proper income to keep it running. I’d barely be able to scratch the surface. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“Honey, you need to calm yourself. All I asked was why do you need a room?” Mrs. Carter raised her hand and waved for Mark and Julie to follow her out onto the back porch.
It was elegantly lit with filigree lanterns. The wicker furniture was a sandy color, and Mrs. Carter took her seat in a peacock-backed chair that faced a comfy love seat.
She motioned for the two to sit down. Tobie seemed to feel quite at home and took off into the yard to chase squirrels or lightning bugs or shadows.
“I’m traveling solo through the States. I was living up north with my family and decided I wanted to go on an adventure. I started in San Francisco and just arrived here this afternoon.”
Suddenly, Julie didn’t feel her story was as convincing as Mrs. Carter looked at her over her own glass of lemonade. Her eyes flashed but not with anger or annoyance. Instead, Julie felt that Mrs. Carter might suspect there was more to her story but was willing to keep it a secret.
“I have a room. It has a bed with attached bath and a bureau. Do you have a job, Miss Julie?”
“No ma’am.”
“You do now. I need someone to help with this big house. I’ve got a layer of dust an inch thick over half the downstairs and all over upstairs. My fine silver has not been polished in years, and the windows are almost impossible to see through. That doesn’t even include the work I need done in the yard.” She took a deep breath, crossed her legs and held her glass in one hand.
“All of that should keep you busy until you figure out where you are going next.”
Julie’s eyes went wide. Could this be true? What luck! She looked at Mark, who was smiling.
“But, I do have some rules, and one of those are no boys past nine o’clock. Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Stewart. I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you now,” Mrs. Carter teased as she stood. “I’ll get your room ready, dear. You come on up the stairs, and it is the last door on the left.”
Julie turned to Mark and felt a wave of tears and relief rush over her. She hugged him.
“You knew she was going to do this, didn’t you?”
Mark was surprised and gently patted Julie on the back. He wanted to hold her, but at this moment, he became awkward and tripped over his words. His mind had gone blank.
“She had done it for me when I first came to Inspiration Point a couple years ago. But, trust me,” Mark said, pulling away from Julie a little reluctantly, “She will work you hard. And you better do it or else, out the door you go.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work. I waited tables before and that wasn’t easy, either.”
“Well, I better go before she reads me the riot act for keeping a young lady out past curfew and jeopardizing her reputation.”
Giggling, Julie again touched Mark’s arm.
“Thank you, again. I don’t know what I would have done if Tobie hadn’t come up to me.”
With that, the big dog came lumbering up the back porch steps, his tail wagging in a lazy wave.
“Do you think I could see you again tomorrow?” Mark hoped he didn’t sound too corny or desperate asking for a date.
“Mr. Stewart, I am expected to finish my chores before any gentleman caller can be properly received,” Julie replied.
“Great. You’ve got until noon. I’ll send my carriage for you.”
Julie burst out laughing and nodded her head. Without another word, Mark walked down the hallway and let himself out, pulling the heavy front door closed. Quietly and carefully, Julie walked up the stairs as Mrs. Carter had instructed and down the hall to the last room on the left.
Mrs. Carter was in there just finishing making the bed. Julie stepped in and was instantly in love with the room. It was just a bed with a rustic wrought iron frame and a bureau with crystal door knobs. The bathroom had a small bear claw tub and a sink with lovely light blue towels stacked neatly on the closed toilet seat.
“It’s so beautiful,” Julie said in a hushed voice. She turned to Mrs. Carter, walked right up to her and hugged her tightly. The woman was slightly taken aback. She was not used to such emotion right off the bat. But, she liked Julie instantly and hugged her right back.
“Something tells me we have a good bit in common, Julie,” she said knowingly.
I’ll leave you to get cleaned up, and I would suggest bed. Lack of rest is the single girl’s worst enemy. Makes dark moons under her eyes that no cucumber facials will ever remove.” She lifted the girl’s chin with her hand. “Get some rest. Breakfast is at seven o’clock in the morning.”
Mrs. Carter walked out the door and closed it gently behind her. Julie looked around the room and again cried softly at her luck. It was then she saw the beautiful cross that hung next to the bed.
She let her body relax as she sat on the bed. The mattress felt soft and inviting, but Julie was so excited she couldn’t wind down. Not just yet.
