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.