Chapter Twenty-One
Danny awoke to the realization that it was Superbowl Sunday, and the game was being played seventy-five miles down the road. Of course, he was not in possession of a ticket, but neither did he plan to try and procure one. Furthermore, he didn’t care one whit about the game because in an hour he was meeting Julie for breakfast at her house, and they were going to spend the day together. They would see some of the attractions, maybe take a walk on the beach. They would work on rebuilding their friendship. No Superbowl was a match for that.
Last evening had gone well — better than he had actually expected. At no time was he at a loss for words, though surely it was his greatest fear going in that they would end up together, but speechless, staring at each other across a strange dinner table with nothing whatsoever in common and even less worth discussing. Then, after surviving the ritual, they would quietly go their separate ways again, the point having been made painfully clear (to him at least) how foolish it had been to ever think they could successfully overcome their failures and lay aside their differences.
But the evening did not turn out that way at all. Not once did they argue; not a single careless word was spoken between them. Julie seemed to truly enjoy herself. She smiled the entire evening and even laughed at his jokes. When dinner was served, they sampled from each other’s plates like the did when they were first dating. Of course, Danny had hoped for this kind of outcome to their first “date.” But there was no way of predicting how it might actually turn out, and, considering how he had caught her unawares, it was possible she went out with him only to be polite. Yet, if that had been the case, he seriously doubted she would be cooking breakfast for him this morning.
Something seemed to be troubling her though, something he could not quite put his finger on. When asked, she repeatedly said everything was “fine.” But he sensed otherwise. It seemed odd, for instance, that she kept changing the subject when he tried to get her to talk about her career. He remembered acting similarly himself so many times when his job had been getting him down, when it was too painful to discuss work, even with Julie. Once home for the evening, he preferred to forget about the office, though he never succeeded in putting it entirely out of his mind.
But he knew as well as anybody how the career treadmill just keeps rolling along at maximum speed, and how every weekday morning you are inevitably consigned to jump back on, looking like you are enjoying yourself, while inwardly, you might be dying a slow, deliberate death. Naturally, there is nothing anyone can do to alter this reality, career options being limited as they are to one’s own range of talents, education, and experience, and especially considering the precipitous fall one’s income will take if career tracks are switched in the middle of life’s uncertain journey. For Julie’s sake, he hoped that she had not arrived at this point so soon after supposedly finding her niche, and that the tenor he thought he picked up in their conversation last night was really nothing at all, just a reflection of his own emotional state of mind regarding work and career.
But why worry about it? If something was bothering her, he would discover it soon enough. For now, the best plan was to make the most of every moment they had together, and fortunately, they had an entire day ahead of them. For this, he was genuinely thankful.
From Danny’s hotel room window, this new day looked like a carbon copy of the previous one. And the television forecast simultaneously bore witness, although some low clouds were predicted to persist along the coast. Winter out here was like a September stroll in the park.
Julie got up at her usual weekend time — 6:15. She dressed for her morning run, stretched, and then headed toward the beach under cover of darkness. A biting wind forced her to zip her parka all the way up and to put on gloves and ear protection. She ran hard, thinking about nothing in particular, only that she wished for a clear head with which to challenge the day. First, she had to empty her mind of everything that had gotten stuck there over the past few days and weeks, something only a good run could do.
After about fifteen minutes of pushing herself, she was sweating profusely and had to begin removing excess gear. But she had not succeeded in starving out her thoughts, and especially her memories. They remained fully in tact.
She tried concentrating on the weather. Though this cold, damp morning was suited only for fitness fools like her, today should turn out glorious once the clouds burned off — bright and sunny and unusually warm. It was hard to believe that just three days ago, in its second stormy assault on the Southland, El Niño had washed everything not anchored down in L.A. out to sea. Julie, of course, had come within a hair’s breadth of being swept away with it, emotionally at least.
But, like the city, she was beginning to recover. And surprisingly, considering her state of mind a mere twenty-four hours ago, deep down inside she could sense a genesis of hope for the days ahead. With his arrival, Danny had broken through the gloomy firmament of her existence in the same way a blazing sun comes up over the eastern horizon at dawn — big and bright and warm, the exact way she hoped to see it this morning.
But many nagging thoughts remained, her reticence to plunge herself back into the murk of another relationship, first and foremost among them. And she could not help feeling wary of Danny. He was, after all, a man, the likes of which she knew only too well, though presently he seemed so different from when they were married. But so did Mike Tattersall seem different at times, or at least there was the image of himself he projected — carefully-posed, glossy, and irresistible. Then, when she finally saw through the polish, she discovered his true self: rotten, untrustworthy, and contemptible. And, although she never saw Danny as exactly “rotten,” she wondered about his current motives, nevertheless.
In their conversation last night, they had not ventured into the past, but it was undoubtedly still there, biding its time, waiting to emerge. And there was also the future to consider, something she could only imagine as wildly uncertain.
There was something else, too, though she could not say exactly what, except that she was nagged by it — a feeling perhaps, or a premonition, something like a sinking sensation in your gut that you cannot define but you know is there. He was much too placid to be Danny. It was as though he’d had a personality transplant or something. Not that she wanted to change him back or anything, just that it was spooky to think that he could be so very different. Sooner or later, the other shoe would have to drop, so she figured. The other guy would show up, and for that reason alone, she resigned herself to remaining vigilant. Even more so than she had been with Mike.
Besides, Danny would be going back home to Michigan in seven days, and then, where would that leave her — or them, for that matter? Exactly nowhere. So she had better just stick to developing the friendship like she had planned all along, nothing more.
But the nagging sensation persisted. There were wrinkles in the cloth she could not iron out — little things, like the fact that, suddenly, this was not the long distance friendship she had anticipated. He was right here, a dozen miles up the road to be exact. And then there was the feeling she got from being with him again.
Such thoughts were proving too much for her oxygen-starved brain to handle at the moment. But she knew that, just like with running, taking the journey with him one step at a time was all she could do. So that would be her plan.
First a shower, then the supermarket, then...I guess we’ll see.
Danny could smell his home-cooked breakfast all the way out on the sidewalk. Clearly, his anxiety over being with his wife again had not affected his appetite. And apparently, their separation had not diminished her cooking skills.
He strode up to her front door and rang the bell. Unlike yesterday, she answered on the first ring, appearing in stocking feet and wearing an apron with ruffled shoulder straps — another remnant of their marriage. Danny flushed with warm memories of holiday times with savory, stuffed turkeys roasting and homemade pumpkin pies cooling on the counter.
He took her hands as they greeted and it was all that he could do to refrain from hugging her. Her hair framed her face beautifully, and she looked positively captivating, even more so than last night. Still, some serious trepidation remained in his heart and mind. For, unlike the way he had regarded her when they first met as teenagers, today he saw her as someone almost beyond his reach.
He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before letting go. They lingered there on the porch for a moment, with little more than a foot between them, and Danny continued to fight back his desire to take her into his arms. But at the same time, he sensed that, by being too forward or presumptuous, he might put her on the defensive. He could not afford such a setback.
He would wait for her to make the first move, or at least to give him some indication that something like a hug would not put her off or be misconstrued as a pretext for other, more intimate acts. This did not mean that other such acts were not being contemplated by him. But neither was it his primary aim to achieve physical intimacy with her, at least not right away.
Surprising him somewhat, she took him by his right hand and pulled him toward the house. “It’s cold out here. Come inside. Breakfast is ready. I hope you’re hungry.”
Danny said he was, “famished, actually. Probably because my stomach is still on Eastern Standard Time, It thinks it’s noon already.”
Julie directed him to a seat at the snack bar, where orange juice was already poured and waiting. She took the last two pieces of toast off the griddle and slid them onto two plates. Others were keeping warm in the oven. “I think you’re going to like this,” she said, setting a plate in front of him. “Do you want your coffee now or later?”
“Whatever you prefer.”
There he goes again, she thought, reaching for the carafe and pouring two mug-fulls. But instead of saying anything, she simply set down a mug for each of them and climbed up into her chair next to him at the bar.
“What is this, some kind of French Toast?”
“Stuffed.”
“Huh?”
“Stuffed French Toast. It has creme cheese and apricot preserves inside.”
“Mmm, tastes good. I like it.”
“You haven’t changed so much that I don’t know what to feed you.”
“No, I suppose not.”
They ate together without a lot of conversation. Not wanting to seem ill-mannered, Danny tried to chew quietly, Julie being right there next to him, so close that he could feel her warmth.
Julie’s fragrance hinted of fruit. He could not pinpoint the scent, exactly — citrus perhaps, or maybe pear. She spoke between bites of her breakfast,
“So, what did you want to see first? There’s the Sherman Gardens, which are really beautiful. Or — although it’s a little bit of a hike — we could drive down to the mission at San Juan Capistrano. Except that you’re two months early if you want to see the birds.”
“Why don’t you surprise me? The only thing I really want to do is see the ocean. Maybe we can take a walk on the beach after we clean up from breakfast.”
“Okay then. But it will probably be a little chilly down by the water this morning.”
“You’re kidding, right?” he said, still chewing, as though he were addressing the back kitchen wall. “Living out here must have thinned your blood out or something.”
This was beginning to sound a little more like Danny, she thought. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d been out running with me this morning.”
“How cold could it have been — 40?”
“I almost forgot that I once married an Eskimo.”
“Not an Eskimo, a Michigander — a man from the land of great winters.” Danny cleaned his plate and asked her if she had any more. She rose to serve him, taking another half-piece for herself. Sitting back down, she decided to put him to a little impromptu test.
“Of course, if you prefer, we could just hang around town today, maybe go to Neiman’s or Macys. You could buy me a new outfit.”
“That would be fine. I’d like that. Except you may want to save the shopping for a rainy day. Or is it true what I heard — that it never rains in Southern California?”
“Don’t believe it. If you wanted to see rain, you should have been here last week. We had eight inches in one day — floods, mudslides — it was unbelievable. We lucked out here in Newport though; it was much worse up in L.A.. Especially in the Valley. Still, some of the boats in the marina took a beating from the wind and the tidal surge.”
“I heard something about that on the news. They blamed the whole thing on El Niño.”
“Of course, what else? I guess everybody finally got sick and tired of hearing about earthquakes and wildfires so the media had to invent something else to yammer about. Plus, the insurance companies and home improvement people are having a field day with this El Niño thing. You’d think the world was coming to an end to hear them talk.”
“We’ve had our share of yammering back home too. Every time a snowflake falls somebody blames El Niño. Like we’ve never had snow before the ocean started warming up.”
They laughed over this, and then Julie asked if Danny had enough to eat. He said yes but asked for a little more coffee. She cleared the plates and suggested they move to the living room to drink their coffee, but Danny insisted on helping with the dishes. She let him, even though there was hardly enough room in the tiny kitchen for two. For his part, Danny liked the close quarters. He was enjoying being next to his wife, plus, it had been far too long since they had bumped hips while doing household chores. And, though he never before regarded washing up after breakfast as a pleasurable experience, he found that, today at least, it was fun — even a little romantic.
As Julie was drying the griddle, the phone rang. It was Tracy, asking if Julie wanted to do anything together today. Julie said she would have, except that her “former husband” had dropped in, and she was going to show him around a little. Danny could not help overhearing one side of the conversation. To him it sounded like Julie was using his visit as a convenient excuse to avoid her friend. Naturally, he was not going to point this out to her, but he gained some insight into her relationship with Tracy. Perhaps it was too soon to draw conclusions, but Julie did not seem anxious to run off with Tracy to have some fun. He felt a bit relieved.
After putting on jackets, they left the house and headed toward the beach. It was a quiet morning, with light traffic on W. Balboa. They paused momentarily until a wide break appeared in the westbound lands,and then crossed. Danny took her hand as they waited on the median for eastbound traffic to clear. Feeling the warmth of Danny’s touch, Julie flushed a little. A wave of emotion rolled over her and broke, leaving behind the foamy residue of mixed feelings.
They ambled down Fortieth Street toward the water, both dressed in jeans. Danny had on a flannel shirt under his jacket. Julie wore her ski vest, bright yellow with a Gore Tex filler, over top of a body-hugging, brown turtleneck.
Once on the beach, Danny slipped one arm around her waist. Julie considered returning the gesture but didn’t, not wanting to give him any ideas about the prospect of a renewed romantic relationship between them. She could not, however, deny the internal sense of comfort she derived from being with him this morning. This stream of thought, replete as it was with conflicting signals and motives, troubled her. She felt so off-balance, so unsure about how to act around this man she thought she knew.
A biting wind was blowing in off the sea and the sun had yet to break through the thick layer of morning clouds. With nothing to keep her arms warm, Julie zipped her jacket all the way to the top. The style she had carefully crafted earlier was quickly blowing out of her hair. She was defenseless against the stinging, wind-borne salt mist from the in-coming tide.
“What do you think? Feel like winter yet?” she asked him.
“Not really, no.”
She peeled his arm off her waist and took his hand to lead him as she had earlier. “Come on, this way. I’ll walk you down by the marina.”
They followed the surf line. Preoccupied with studying the surroundings, Danny did not say much. At one point, however, he asked about the jetties. Julie told him they were called groins. He laughed at that, recognizing the obvious double meaning in the name. He told her he liked the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach.
Maybe he seemed so carefree because he was on vacation, she theorized, away from home and his humdrum existence. Seeing him like this, however, made her suddenly conscious of her own troubles — the fact that she had no job, no present source of income, and she probably would not find time today to comb the classifieds as she had planned.
She worried about how and when she might break the news to Danny about her job, and whether she should tell him the whole truth — about Mike and all — or invent some other reason as to why she was going to have to seek other employment. She really did not want to be dishonest with him. Then she thought about how she had been with Tracy: so aloof, so unwilling to trust Trace with her true feelings. Why, a mere fifteen minutes ago, she had brushed Tracy off once again. What kind of a friend did that — repeatedly? She had an inkling to let go of Danny’s hand and dive into the ocean. She could swim out toward Catalina until hypothermia overcame her and took her under. But, just as quickly, the thought passed. Besides, she would never do something like that, even if it might be an answer to her current fix.
Danny interrupted her thoughts. “You know it’s too bad you have to work this week.”
“Why is that?”
“Because there’s something else I’d like to do.”
“What?”
“Nah. It’s pointless to talk about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“There wouldn’t be enough time with you having to work and all.”
“Danny, don’t tease me like that. Tell me what it is.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay then. I’d like to see Las Vegas. I’d like to take you there for a few days. But, I understand how important your job is to you, so I should probably just forget about it.”
“Who said I couldn’t get away?”
Hearing this, he stopped walking and held her back as well. “I guess I was just assuming you couldn’t get any time off.”
They stood alone by the surf, face to face now, the ocean to one side, the beach houses to the other. “Don’t assume Danny, you’ll make an ass out of u and me.” She giggled. “Let’s see what kind of shape you’re in.” With that, she pulled her hand free of him and ran off in the direction of a volleyball pit further down the shoreline. There were no players, just a lonely net, fluttering in the wind. Caught flat-footed, Danny remained motionless for an instant. Then, seeing rooster tails of sand flying up behind her, and realizing she wanted to be chased, he shook his head, smiled to himself, and made pursuit.
Julie turned left and headed toward Twenty-Eighth Street, in the direction of the Lido Bridge. She did not know what was making her run, except that she had cornered herself with that last question. There was no way out of telling Danny about her job situation.
At Balboa Avenue she looked back over her shoulder. Danny was lumbering along, chugging like a locomotive, hands swinging without rhythm; he would never catch her at that pace. She slowed to a comfortable trot to give him a fair chance.
When he had closed to within fifteen yards, she stopped at the corner of Lafayette Avenue. Seconds later, he arrived, out of breath.
“You have some work to do,” she told him, “if you want to do mornings with me.”
“Who says I want to do mornings with you?” He puffed. “I’m not a morning person, remember?”
“Right. I almost forgot. Come on, I want to show you Lido Isle.”
“Sure. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
Back at the house again, Danny used the facilities and then sat himself down in Julie’s favorite chair. She busied herself in the kitchen microwaving milk for hot chocolate. “Sorry, Danny, but I don’t have any of those little marshmallows you like.”
“No problem. I’m cutting back on sweets anyway. Ten more pounds to lose.”
“Oh, yeah?” She looked at him over the snack bar. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“No one in particular.” A lie, of course. “I just thought I’d get an early jump on summer. Speaking of which, I bet it’s a lot like summer in Las Vegas this time of year.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“But would you like to find out?”
The microwave beeped. Julie opened its door and removed Danny’s mug, putting another one in for herself and resetting the timer. She stirred powdered mix into the steaming milk and carried it to him.
“Well?” he said.
“Well, what?”
“Just tell me one thing. Should I make reservations for Vegas or not?”
“When would you be going?”
“You mean we — when would we be going?” He waited for a response but only got silence in return — and a funny smirk as she screwed up her face.
He pressed it a little. “How’s Thursday through Saturday sound?”
She tapped her lips with her forefinger. There was her class on Thursday night. She really should not miss it, especially after last week’s session had been canceled. Then her mind flashed back to the hotel room and Mike Tattersall. “I don’t know, Danny. How about if you give me a day to think about it?”
“All right. I’ll set my watch.”