Oh, no. "Go away," Julia cried, trying to disguise her breaking throat. "Nothing's wrong. I just didn't sleep very well last night."
The door creaked open, and Caroline peered around the doorjamb. "Are you decent?" she asked softly, but Nina pushed past her.
"If not, you better get that way, because we're coming in." Nina plodded through the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered on the floor, overflowing out of open suitcases. She hopped onto the bed, flattening the duvet she'd given Julia for her thirtieth birthday, and asked, "What's your deal?" in a tone that suggested she wasn't going to let Julia mope the day away in any bed, no matter how beautiful its linens.
"I'm tired," Julia said, hoping that would end it.
But Caroline came in and, like Nina, crawled onto the queen-sized bed, and Julia heard the rustling of papers. Before she could stop her, Caroline reached into the pile of blankets and pulled the pages out. Caroline's eyes scanned the first sheet, and when she finished, she handed it to Nina and began reading the second.
"Wow," Caroline eventually said.
"Julia!" Nina exclaimed. "You're a T-shirt!"
I've been on the New York Times bestseller list for five years, and this is what impresses Nina, Julia thought and tumbled over onto the pillows. She felt Caroline stroke her hair, half expecting her to hold a tissue to her nose and say "blow" and then "good girl."
"When did I become the anti-relationship person?" Julia asked. "Caroline, did I try to talk you out of marriage? Nina ..." She turned to the woman who had married Jason twice, then rethought her question. "Well, you don't count." Julia sat upright. "All I ever wanted was to help people make the most out of the cards they've been dealt! Those were my exact words!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at no one in particular. "Jeez! You tell Katie Couric something, and you kind of expect the word to get around!"
"Julia," Caroline was saying, "this is something that happens. You read what that professor said. You didn't do this. It's just a part of life." Tension was building in her voice. "Like when the baby has colic and Cassie finger paints on the marble in the guest bath. Stuff just happens!"
Julia took the article from Caroline, needing to feel it in her hands to be sure she wasn't having a nightmare. "Half my fans hate me! For no reason—I haven't abandoned them! I haven't lied! I believe in what I wrote. Lance, whether he's my boyfriend"—she choked out the word—"or not, doesn't change that."
"But half your fans love you," Nina said.
Julia tossed off the covers. "No. Half of her fans love her" She pointed to the picture that had been taken that day outside FAO Schwarz and included in every online news story about her phenomenal success of the past week. "But she doesn't exist!"
"Well, for a ghost, she takes an excellent picture," Nina chided.
"All I ever said was that marriage doesn't have to be everyone's cup of tea. Maybe tea's not available in your area. Maybe you haven't found a flavor you like. Some people like coffee. Some like pop. Some"—Julia felt her voice beginning to crack—"just try to avoid caffeine."
"So, you want us to leave," Nina said, rising to her knees on the bed. "You want us to leave so you can have a pity party—because some people you don't even know think you've got a boyfriend ''' Nina got off the bed. "Jules, Caroline had a miscarriage last year. I've been divorced—twice—from the same guy. Ro-Ro, all joking aside, has buried four husbands. Forgive me, but the fact that you sold a million books in a week doesn't seem so very tragic."
With that, Nina whirled and walked to the door as quickly as her five-foot frame would allow. Minutes after she left, Caroline and Julia were both still sitting quietly on the bed, trying to adjust to Nina, the enforcer.
Julia hugged a pillow to her chest. "I don't know where I went so wrong," she said as she began to cry the big, fat tears that come only when the shutoff valve for emotion is broken. "It's so embarrassing. I'm just too embarrassed to be seen." She ran her pajama sleeve across her wet face.
Caroline shifted on the bed and turned to study her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Why should you be embarrassed?"
"The snotty guy at Sycamore Hills was nice to me," Julia mumbled. "Miss Georgia fixed my dress. Ro-Ro made me go to that benefit, and you know she never would have done that if Lance hadn't been here to go with me." Tears were pouring out. "And now I see this!" She clenched the pages into her tight fists. "My sales have doubled. Why? Because of him.”
"Honey," Caroline said, "that's not true!"
"I'm just so ashamed," Julia said, wilting into soundless sobs.
Caroline let her get it all cried out before she asked, "Why, Julia? Why would you ever say such a thing?"
"I feel like people are looking at me now and saying, 'Oh, we're so glad there isn't something wrong with you.' That's what it feels like. Like people have thought there was something wrong with me for years but they're just admitting it now."
"Julia, you are reading way too much into this! All these people, your old fans and your new fans, they want to be you. They see this picture of you, smiling and laughing with a great-looking guy, so they go out to buy your books because they want that. You've proven it's possible. They've always wanted to be you, then and now. Everyone wants to be happy."
Julia looked at Caroline then, and something passed between them in the unspoken language of sisters. "Have you read the new book, Caroline?"
Her sister was quiet for a long time, then she said, "Don't lock yourself in your room, Julia. No one thought there was something wrong with you before, especially no one who knows you—not Ro-Ro, not the Georgias, not us."
"You're saying that if my friends and family hated me, they'd tell me to my face?"
Caroline pulled her sister's head onto her shoulder and smoothed her tangled hair. "Of course we would, sweetheart. Your friends are awful people."
Chapter Fifteen