“Enough,” Julia whispered, her stomach in knots, her heart in her throat, tears pricking at her eyes and pain shooting throughout her body. But it was as if Mrs. K didn’t hear her, so caught was she in the ugly memories.
“And it wasn’t just then, it didn’t matter what he did, how he did it, how well he did it, which was always well, mind. He’d yell, scream for hours, saying things no child should hear. Even when he was a young man –”
“Enough,” Julia repeated, not thinking she could take anymore because she knew, she knew. She was an adult when it happened to her, the mental abuse, the shredding of confidence, the abrasion of the soul, to have it happen to you as a child by your very own father, the thought was unbearable.
Mrs. K continued, seeming to need to get it all out and Julia leaned forward and put out her hands, encompassing both Mr. K and Mrs. K’s and squeezing, trying to instil warmth and comfort in the older woman while she dredged up the past.
“He shouldn’t hear those things, not from his father, not from anyone but especially not from his father.” The tears were falling down her face unheeded. She looked haunted and lost, as if she was somewhere else. Julia couldn’t imagine her pain, her feelings of powerlessness, being forced to witness something she could do nothing about. At the thought of it, of what Douglas had endured, she felt her own tears spilling over and Mrs. K continued. “Douglas shut down, day-after-day, year-after-year, slowly he shut down. I’m not surprised, no one could take it. I don’t blame him for not allowing himself to feel, to trust and love, because all he felt for years was nothing from his mother and unspeakable…” She gulped, unable to find the word to express herself then she pressed on. “At first he found strength in Miss Tamsin, solace, I think, she tried so hard to be everything to him, his champion. But then even she couldn’t penetrate the wall he’d built around himself.” At that, Mrs. K straightened and her eyes focused on Julia. “And he was good at everything, great at absolutely everything, so he built the best wall anyone could ever build,” she said with determined pride as if this was an accomplishment akin to singlehandedly building The Great Wall of China.
They sat there, the three of them, their hands together on the table and looked at each other. Julia and Mrs. K with tears streaming down their cheeks and Mr. K’s face red with the effort of not being unmanned in front of the women.
Eventually, Mr. K cleared his throat loudly and said, “What’s in the bags?”
Julia wanted to laugh. She wanted to run screaming from the room. She wanted to hunt down Monique Ashton and beat her black and blue, to say a tiny prayer to Tamsin that she hoped her sister would hear to thank her for being the one ray of light in Douglas’s dismal life. She wanted to find Douglas, tell him she loved him and do something, anything to erase his pain.
Instead, Julia didn’t move, didn’t take away her hands but kept looking deeply into Mrs. K’s eyes. “Tonight I thought I’d ask you to watch the children and then I’d make dinner for Douglas. Awhile ago, he asked me to marry him and, yesterday, I decided I’d tell him yes.”
Mrs. K gasped, her tear-streaked face lighting up.
“Well that’s a damned fine piece of news!” Mr. K exclaimed, his expression both shocked and extremely pleased.
Julia smiled at Mr. K then moved her eyes to his wife. Quietly, but firmly, she stated, “I love him. I think I’ve loved him for years.”
Oddly, at her words, Julia sensed something. It seemed the air in the room closed in on them, warming, becoming heavy.
Before Julia could process the change, she saw the tears were coming in earnest now from Mrs. K and then, abruptly, the older woman was all a-flurry. She jumped up and ran around the bench and hauled Julia to her for a bone-jarring hug. Then she let Julia go as suddenly as she grabbed her and turned to the bags, pulling out the goods inside.
“Steak, good, he likes steak,” not lifting her head, she ordered her husband, “get Ronnie down here, and Miss Lizzie, too. We have things to do.”
Mr. K rolled his eyes at Julia, all the despair of moments before dispelled at Mrs. K’s exuberant busyness. He stood to do as he was commanded.
“And I need you to go to the store for some things.” Mrs. K was standing, holding a bag of potatoes in one hand and asparagus in the other, looking back and forth between them and one could practically see her mind whirling. Then she turned to stare at Julia. “You go get ready, wash those tears off your face. I’ll take care of everything.”
“But Mrs. K, I wanted to –” Julia began to say.
“Go,” she ordered. “We don’t have time for dilly-dallying, Mister Douglas keeps no schedule, he could be home any minute and we need to be ready.” When neither Julia nor Mr. K moved she shouted, “Go!”
They jumped to do her bidding.
* * * * *
When Julia heard the tires crunching on the drive, she was ready.
While getting ready, she’d allowed herself to think of the Kilpatricks’ words and to feel compassion for her soon-to-be fiancé. He would not accept or thank her for her sympathy, even though she, of all people, knew how he felt (which must have been why he reacted so strongly when Julia explained what Sean had done to her, a fact that, now that she understood it, made her stomach melt). She knew, though, for the sake of his pride, that she could never let him know that she knew the truth. It tore at her heart, knowing why Douglas was the way he was, but it would always have to be her secret with the Kilpatricks.
After years of abuse as a child, she knew it was unlikely she’d ever break through that wall but he wanted her and by God, he was going to have her. If she only had a week or was lucky enough to have years to show him love and tenderness, she was going to give it to him.
Starting tonight.
She was embarrassed about going on to Douglas, of all people, about being alone.
How selfish she’d been. How stupidly lost she’d been in her own grief and bitterness. She’d always had her mother and Gavin and a big family and loads of friends to love, cherish and look after her. Even here, she had Charlie, Sam, Mr. and Mrs. K, Ronnie and the children.
But Douglas had always been alone. Truly alone.
Julia had carefully prepared, picking her best little black dress (v-necked, sleeveless and backless it fell to her knees and fit her body lovingly) and added her stiletto-heeled, pointed-toed black pumps and Douglas’s emerald. She pulled her hair up in a loose bunch and let tendrils fall about her face. She was careful with her makeup (as both hair and makeup would have to survive being significantly mussed if she had anything to do with it).
She was trembling with anticipation as she rushed out of her rooms and down the hall.