she dug one of her pain-relief pills from her handbag.
“Headache coming?” Russell asked as he glided the Volvo and U-Haul two blocks farther along Lakeshore Drive.
She nodded, swallowing back the medication with a swig from the water bottle she’d purchased at their last stop for gas in Regina.
Briefly, Russell rested his hand on her knee. Before she could cover it with her own, he’d reclaimed the steering wheel.
“We’re here.”
“Yeah!” Ben shot out of the back seat, not bothering to close the door behind him. Rivaling him for speed were his grandparents, who must have been watching at the window because they were already on the steps. Betty Matthew held out her arms and Ben hurled himself into her embrace.
Watching, Julie blinked rapidly. She’d been dreading this first encounter with the Matthews and now the moment had arrived.
Russell had her car door open. He held out his hand.
“Just a minute. I need to close my purse. You go ahead.”
She zipped the leather bag, then slung it on her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she spied the keys dangling in the ignition. She imagined herself unhooking the U-Haul from the back. Driving off, windows open, music blaring.
That she found the image so appealing scared her. She didn’t really want to abandon her family. She wanted to rush from the car the way her husband and son had. She longed to be able to hug her in-laws, to smile naturally and joke about the misery of two twelve-hour days spent traveling.
But she’d never achieved that comfort level with her in-laws.
She felt stiff as she walked up the sidewalk, and had to force a smile when she reached the group.
“Julie. You look a little tired, dear.” Betty Matthew made the first move. Julie succumbed to an awkward embrace with the plump, shorter woman before turning to Russell’s father.
Age had rendered Larry an inch shorter than his son, but he was still slender and the almost-white hair on his head remained thick and curly. He smiled and pecked her on the cheek, while her lips touched only air.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you all! How was the drive? Come on in. I’ve got a roast waiting in the oven.”
Julie leaned close to her husband. “Should we lock the car?”
He smiled indulgently. “It’s okay, Julie.”
She glanced over her shoulder. A significant portion of their worldly goods were stowed in that U-Haul. Clothing, family photos, her favorite pieces of art. “I’m going back to get the keys, at least.”
Russell shrugged, following his parents inside. When Julie returned, keys in her purse and both car and U-Haul safely locked, she found the men in the living room. Larry had already served his son a cold beer, still in the bottle.
In the five years since her last visit, little had changed in this room save the addition of a few more framed photos and a couple of new knickknacks on the fake mantel. Fifteen years ago the Matthews had purchased their living room furniture with comfort and price the main concern. Those same principles guided the decor of the entire home.
“Mother’s in the kitchen,” Larry told her.
She nodded, accepting the dismissal, barely registering her husband’s faintly apologetic smile.
The kitchen was past the dining room to the right. She heard her mother-in-law before she saw her.
“Here’s a wooden spoon, Ben, honey. Stir the gravy for me, would you? I’ve made Yorkshire puddings. I remember how much you liked them last time you were here.”
No one seemed to notice Julie when she first stepped into the room. She stood straight, hands clasped in front of her, like a schoolgirl summoned to the principal.
“May I help?”
“Sure.”
Julie couldn’t miss the subtle tension that stiffened Betty’s voice. She noticed the effort with which Betty gave her a smile.
“I have a salad on the table. Could you put out the bottles of dressings? I’ve got Thousand Islands, Ranch and Italian.”
Julie smothered the impulse to offer to make a vinaigrette. She uncapped the bottles that she’d found lined up on the refrigerator door, then put them on the table as they were.
“Larry already carved the roast.” Betty took a white platter from the oven and removed the covering of foil. The meat was uniformly dark gray—very well done. “I’ll put out the gravy, then we can eat. Ben, would you call your dad and grandpa, please?”
Sitting at the table, listening to her husband say grace, Julie had a flash of prescience. This was only the first of many times the five of them would sit here. From now on, she would mark off the weeks of her life with Sunday dinners just like this one. She would become middle-aged in this town. Accumulate wrinkles and gray hairs. Maybe in time she would develop a taste for overcooked beef, and sofa sets covered in afghans, and pictures hung about a foot higher than eye level on the wall.
Julie tried, but she couldn’t eat the food on that particular Sunday. She couldn’t focus on the conversation, either. Ben looked happy. So did Russell. Her husband and her son seemed so real to her right then. Their voices were strong; their laughter, assured. She marveled at their ability to fit in, to adapt, to accept.
And secretly worried that this had been their kind of world all along.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE NIGHT BEFORE SCHOOL started, Julie and Russell had their first visitor who wasn’t family.
The moving truck with their furnishings had arrived four days earlier, and the hours since then had been a tangle of unpacking and sorting, arranging and rearranging. Ben had spent most of that first week with his grandparents. Tonight, though, he was reading in his room. Julie had made an effort to set up his furnishings as similarly as possible to how they’d been in Vancouver. Though Ben didn’t seem to care much.
He hadn’t complained about anything to do with the move. Nor did he appear unduly concerned about his fast-approaching first day at a different school.
“I’ll get the door,” Julie told Russell, leaving him standing at the back window, holding a sheet of fabric she’d been pinning for new curtains.
The window treatments were for show more than necessity. Julie couldn’t imagine wanting to shut out the view of sparkling lake, with green pastures and woods beyond. In Vancouver, they’d enjoyed a peek-a-boo view of the ocean. But here, the lake literally lapped at their backyard.
See? You’ve found something about this house that you like.
Walking down the hall, Julie smoothed her shirt, her hair. Stopping at the mirror by the front entrance, she checked her lipstick, then she opened the door.
“Hello?”
The woman on the welcome mat—an attractive, disheveled, smiling redhead—looked surprised to see her.
“Oh. You must be Julie.” She stepped forward, offering a wicker basket full of cookies. “I’m Heather Sweeney—an old friend of Russell’s. Just wanted to welcome your family to town.” Her gaze dropped to the pincushion in Julie’s left hand. “But you’re busy. Perhaps another time….”
“Now is fine. We were just measuring for draperies. Please come in. I’m sure Russell will appreciate the break.” She glanced at the basket in her hands, the still-warm, aromatic cookies. “How lovely of you.”
“Basic chocolate chip. Can’t really miss with those.”
“Julie? Do I have to keep holding this?” Russell’s voice traveled from the back of the house.
“No. We have company. Come and say hello.” She