"Why won't she call here?" Nina asked.
Julia and Caroline said in unison, "It's a long-distance call."
"Ah," Nina said, understanding. "The cheapness pays off."
Caroline added, "Hallelujah."
Just then, the phone rang, and Caroline and Julia looked at each other as if they'd just jinxed themselves and Ro-Ro had invested in nationwide long distance or, Heaven forbid, a cell phone. But Julia checked the caller ID this time, and then picked up. "Hello, mother," she said.
"Julia, it's your mother," Madelyn said, disregarding Julia's greeting. "Your father and I were driving past your house just now, and . . . well. . . you should turn on Channel Two."
Despite Nina's disdain for Decorating Derby, she still cried "Hey" when Julia took the remote control and changed the channel to the Tulsa NBC affiliate. Her cries were silenced, however, by the sight of Richard Stone's smirk.
"Who's that?" Caroline asked.
"My agent," Lance said as his heart fell to the pit of his stomach.
All around the little man, spotlights shone through the early-evening air. Julia leaned closer to the screen, squinting, trying to imagine why the scene looked so familiar. "That's my mailbox!" she yelled. "He's here! He's by the front gate!"
Richard Stone was standing in the glare of spotlights, shielded only by a massive bank of microphones. He squinted into the bright light, then slipped on a pair of reading glasses and cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said as he pulled a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket. "Mr. Collins and Ms. James have prepared a brief statement they would like me to read. I ask that you please hold your questions." He cleared his throat again and began. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, we ask your understanding and patience as we embark on this, the most important project of our lives. True love, like true art, takes time to perfect and ripen."
"As if I would ever write something with mixed metaphors," Julia scoffed.
Caroline shushed her, and Richard read on.
"We are using this time to let our relationship grow and blossom into the beautiful thing that it will become. We ask your understanding and respect for our privacy during this, a most romantic time." Richard Stone folded the piece of paper and put it away. "I will now be taking questions."
"What are Lance and Julia's future plans?" one reporter yelled.
A smile spread across Richard's face. "They're going to stay here for the time being. Lance has some really sweet offers though, so I expect he'll be getting back to work soon."
"Will Julia go with him?" the reporter followed up.
"Oh." Richard smirked. "I can't imagine keeping the two of them apart."
"He's dead!" Julia yelled and started, full-steam, toward the front door, but Lance grabbed her around the waist and, with the force of her momentum, swung her neatly around with her feet in the air.
"Cool it," he said near her ear, his arms still locked around her.
"Is it true Lance has signed a three-picture deal with Miramax?" a reporter asked.
"I'm afraid I can't comment on that."
"Is it true that Julia's writing a book on wedding planning?"
"Actually," Richard said, "I think Julia's going to be taking some time to support Lance and his career."
Luckily, Lance still had a solid grip on Julia, because she bolted for the door again, and he had to struggle to hold her back. On the television, the questions and the flashes were as bright and loud as ever, but Richard Stone must have decided to quit while he was ahead. "Okay, folks, okay," he said, waving and yelling over the barrage of questions that seemed to be coming from all directions. "That's all I can really say right now. All you need to know is that they're happy, and they're in love, and they're very excited about the baby."
Julia passed out cold.
Chapter Sixteen
WAY #77: Take good care of yourself.
If you live alone, then there's no guarantee that someone will be there to take care of you when you're under the weather, So, by all means, take good care of yourself.
—from 707 Ways to Cheat at Solitaire
Julia opened her eyes and stared overhead, slowly focusing on the water stains and cobwebs that she'd never noticed in the thousands of times she'd walked to her bedroom on the second floor. Other things came into focus, too: a twin mattress; the railing of the stairs; and six legs and six feet, four of which were standing on tiptoes.
"Oh, I wish I'd brought my telescope," Caroline said as she looked through the small, circular window that offered the, best view of the county road.
"Did you say 'telescope'?" Lance asked.
"It was Steve's when he was a kid. I keep it in the upstairs playroom so I can keep an eye on Crazy Myrtle."
"Caroline." Julia groaned as she pushed herself upright and fought against her swirling head. "Please tell me you don't really do that!"
Caroline turned to study her recently unconscious sister. "Well, someone has to."
"How you doing, sleepyhead?" Lance crouched beside her and asked. Julia felt her face burn red with humiliation. Had she actually fainted? Had Lance carried her up the stairs? Does he know how much I weigh?
"Do you need anything?" he asked.
An untraceable passport and enough cash to get me to Paraguay?
"No," she muttered.
He turned his attention back to the window, and Julia tried to make the most of the situation. It's good to know your limits, she thought, scrolling through a list of all she'd learned since meeting Lance: Paparazzi attacks equal prison. Fictional babies equal fainting. Now, if I only knew what it would take for me to develop selective amnesia, I'd be set.
"I've never seen so many lights in my life!" Nina said as she fought with Caroline for position at the window. "I bet every TV crew in the state is camped out there."
Something snapped inside of Julia. Everything came into sharp, clear focus. She jumped up and started down the stairs but stopped suddenly and looked around the landing where they'd been working all afternoon. "Nina, where'd you put that hammer?"
"Julia," Lance soothed as if she were a wild animal. His movements were slow and steady as he slid onto the stair beneath her.
"I am gonna kill that man, Lance!" She looked around once more, then yelled, "Screw the hammer!" and started to push past him.
Unfortunately, it's hard to walk toward vengeance when both your feet are off the floor and the room is suddenly upside down. Julia recognized Lance's terrific rear end staring her in the face. She clawed at his back and kicked, but he didn't let her off his shoulder. He had one arm wrapped around the bend in her knees and the other arm perched way too comfortably on her rear end.
"Put me down this instant!"
"Come on, Lance," Julia heard Nina say through the curtain of hair that had fallen over her face. "You don't want to hurt the baby."
Julia put her hands on Lance's butt and pushed herself upright enough to face her sister and best friend.
"Nina, this is so not funny! People who used to respect me are currently under the impression that I am shacked up! And knocked up and . . . many kinds of up!" Blood rushed to her head. "I don't feel so good," she said, and Lance dropped her onto the mattress.
"Stay there," he ordered, and for once, Julia did exactly as she was told.
"Come on, Julia," Caroline said. "No one is going to believe that about you."
Just then the phone rang. Nina picked it up and looked at the caller ID. "It's Ro-Ro," she said, handing the receiver to Julia, who turned the ringer off. She used the phone to point at her sister.
"Ro-Ro just made a long-distance call, Caroline. Do you still think it's so unbelievable?"
Lance's legs appeared in Julia's peripheral vision. He leaned down and held out a glass of water for her to take. "Thanks," she said, grateful for something to do with her hands. She drank the whole glass before looking back up at him. "And not just for the water," she said sheepishly.
"Oh . . . well." Lance eased down beside her. She felt his weight and sensed his guilt. "Do I have a great agent or what?"
"He is pretty resourceful," Nina added, not helping.
Someone had left the television on downstairs. Julia heard a reporter's voice saying, "Tonight the debate rages on. ..." and the distant cries of picketers: "Give Lance a chance! Give Lance a chance!" The story continued, but Julia could listen no more.
She stood and gathered her composure. She brushed herself off and said, "I'm going to have to issue a statement. I'll walk down there right now and address them myself. I'll pee on a stick in front of them if that's what it takes, but ..."
"Julia." Lance stood and held her arms. His voice was cool and steady, with no hint of sarcasm or ridicule, just stability and truth. "The last time you addressed these people, it involved a hard-sided suitcase and a night in jail. I don't really think public urination would be a step up. Do you?" She pondered this, maybe longer than she'd intended, because she felt Lance's grip on her arms tighten. "Julia, you're exhausted. Let's sleep on it. In the morning, we can make a statement or maybe meet with an attorney. But it's getting late. Let's not try to accomplish anything tonight."
Reluctantly, Julia nodded her agreement. "At least there aren't any more pictures. Without pictures, there isn't much fuel for the fire."
Lance smiled, dimples and all, and said, "Exactly."
Halfway down the stairs, Julia hid her face in her hands and yelled, "Oh, what a mess!" Then she decided that if she wasn't going to get to kill Richard Stone with a hammer, she could at least attack the pile of garbage they'd cleaned out of the guest room. She headed to the mountain of boxes and bags, and began hauling them toward the back door, wishing all of life's garbage could disappear so easily. But before she could hurl the first bag into the backyard, Nina grabbed it from her.
"Don't do that!" she exclaimed, clutching the trash bag to her chest. "Don't you watch TV? They'll go through it! They have no pride."
"Nina, I have to do something! This whole night is driving me crazy!"
"Give the trash to me," Caroline said. "Tomorrow's trash day. I'll put everything out with my stuff. And Julia"—she pointed at her sister—"listen to Nina. Until this is over, nothing goes out that door, okay? Not you. Not him. Not even the trash."
Julia whipped off a little salute to her take-no-prisoners sister. "Fine."
"It will be okay," Caroline said with a hug. "We'll work it all out tomorrow."
Julia picked up the red eight and tried to find a place for it to go. Nowhere. She looked back through the loose cards to the side of the seven stacks and remembered that there had been a black nine in there somewhere. She flipped through the cards until she found it, then she placed it on the red ten and laid the eight down in order. There. Great. Crisis averted.
"Now that's cheating," Lance said from the doorway of her bedroom.
