Who was this man? A little late to wonder, Juli. The sight of his hands caressing hers didn’t disturb her, although a detached part of her brain noted these were the hands of a man she barely knew. That small, internal voice was silenced by compassion. She disliked it. It made her feel vulnerable.
“Ben, we are so different. What do we share? Nothing.”
“I have faith, Juli. This will work.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
Ben kissed her hands. “I have faith enough for both of us, for now.”
She slipped from the chair down to the porch floor where he knelt. “I will do my best not to let you down.” For the first time, she felt genuine vows had been exchanged. They were married.
It was a strange kind of marriage, true, but a union nonetheless.
****
Juli noted Ben’s pale complexion and the tired look in his eyes. He was exhausted from the events of the day. She knew they both suffered from the strain of what next? He had his companion, she had a new bank account, and neither knew what to talk about. She played along when he pretended the awkwardness was normal and expected, but the pretense itself was fatiguing.
He rose from the sofa. “There are books in the bookcase, if you prefer to read. I’m sorry about calling it an early night, but I have a surprise for you tomorrow. We’ll go out for breakfast. I want to take you someplace special.”
She tensed as he paused near her.
“Thank you, Juli. Sleep well.” With a soft sigh, he went upstairs.
There were three bedrooms on the second floor. Ben had offered Juli the choice of the two unoccupied rooms. She’d chosen the one with the private bath. It also had sliding doors opening onto a shared balcony and the view of the Atlantic was amazing. The topmost floor was half a story, one bedroom and bath. Odds and ends were stored there, but Ben was willing to turn it back into a bedroom if she wanted it. She'd told him not to bother.
She’d brought some personal belongings over the previous day. Not much because she traveled light.
Their financial arrangement gave her a lump sum up front and a weekly stipend. If she stayed for the duration and didn’t party hearty or fool around, she’d get another chunk at the end of the contract period. Juli knew little about cancer, only what Ben had explained, including the prognosis of six months, more or less. She didn’t know where the pancreas was or what it did, but she didn’t want to admit it to Ben because she didn’t want him to think she was ignorant.
In the end, she’d be moving on again, as she always had, only this time she’d have a healthy bank account.
Juli stood alone on her wedding night in the living room of a strange house. She still wore her wedding dress, borrowed and blue. Maia had gotten it from someone somewhere as a loaner because Juli didn’t own a frilly dress.
She toured the main floor. The furnishings were simple and uncluttered. Ben had shown her around, of course, but that was polite-looking. Juli opened the cupboards and checked out the contents of the fridge. Beyond the kitchen was a room facing the road, away from the ocean. Ben’s study.
Back in the living room, she channel-surfed, restless and apprehensive again. If this was the high point what would the next weeks be like?
The air, close and warm, crowded her. Internal claustrophobia, like she’d experienced at the Hammonds’ party, moved in again. It wasn’t true claustrophobia, but more like a panic attack. The increased heart rate, the thrumming sound in her ears and the shallow breathing drove her outside.
The wind whipped her skirt. The earlier teasing breeze was gone. Moonlit clouds scudded across the night sky, unnaturally white foam rode the crashing waves, and all around was darkness with the ranks of rentals guarding the coast, a bulwark against the Atlantic night. She intended to go out to the porch, perhaps to sit in one of the white-painted rockers. Instead, she walked along the crossover, shivering as the brisk night touched her skin. The smell of salt and wet sand overrode all others. She descended the steps, stopping only when the delicate, trailing edges of the waves washed over her toes.
The natural cathedral that had graced their wedding now gloried in an array of stars. She tingled from her toes to her hair. She’d never experience this feeling before—miniscule beneath the heavens, yet part of an infinite, encompassing embrace.
The ocean ran up the beach and tickled her feet. She stretched her arms wide, not only for the universe, but for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, right here on earth.
There’d be no cash register to log into in the morning, no waitressing in the evening and no shelf-stocking on the night shift. She didn’t need to be a utility ever again, at least not for a long time. The prenup guaranteed her a comfortable future if she didn’t screw it up.