a teenager. Especially before any of the boys had caught up. By now, she’d learned to live with it. Even enjoy it. She had the slim build and long legs to pull it off with enviable elegance. When she entered a meeting room for a tough negotiation, it definitely helped to meet her adversaries—most of them male—eye-to-eye.
Lucy helped her off with her coat and hung it in the closet.
“Don’t you look nice,” Lucy said. “I love you in red. Bold colors suit you, Julia. Not so much of that dull black and gray. They make a blonde look too washed out.”
“Yes, Mom. So you’ve told me.”
“And that necklace is nice, too. Very stylish.”
Julia smiled at her mother’s backhanded compliment. All her life, Lucy had been coaxing her to wear “bold colors” and not look so “washed out.” Also to “accessorize.” Though her mother usually said it more like a battle cry—Julia! Accessorize!
Julia’s tastes tended toward more subdued tones and few adornments. Especially for business meetings with bankers and lawyers. Her mother didn’t seem to get it.
Today she’d been running an open house, and wore an outfit somewhere between “bold” and businesslike—a wrap-style burgundy sweater, a slim gray wool skirt and black boots. Not her usual mode of dress, but she was pleased her fashion-conscious mother approved of it. Lucy, as usual, was dressed stylishly, in a print dress of soft fabric with long sleeves, and sling-back, high-heeled shoes. A bit fancy for their little one-on-one dinner, Julia thought. But she guessed her mother had probably been out today, at a luncheon or something. It didn’t take much encouragement for Lucy to dress up.
Julia followed her mother into the kitchen and handed over the bakery box. “Here’s some dessert, Mom. It should probably go in the fridge.”
Lucy stared down at the box, as pleased and excited as a child. “Chocolate, I hope?”
“Do they even bake any other kind of cake, Mom?”
“They probably do. I never noticed.” Lucy grinned and slipped the cake box into the refrigerator.
She took out a bottle of white wine and poured it out into two glasses that stood on the countertop, next to two platters of hors d’oeuvres.
“Try my dip,” Lucy urged her. “It’s goat cheese spread. A new recipe. Goat cheese is very…gourmet you know,” Lucy added.
“So I have heard.” Julia smiled and spread a taste on a cracker. She ate out a lot more than her mother and also watched a lot of cooking shows. She was a bit better versed on the current stylish foods. Her mother’s idea of exotic cheese had always been a jalapeño cheddar. It was amusing to see her tastes branching out.
“Very good, Mom,” she said, though she did wonder why her mother had gone to so much trouble for one of their weekly dinners. Julia picked up her wineglass. “This is a pleasant way to end the week. Cheers.”
“Cheers, dear,” Lucy touched her glass to Julia’s. It made a faint, bell-like sound. They each took a sip.
Then Lucy peered up at Julia over the edge of her glass.
“I just have to heat the green beans and finish the table,” she said. “Oh…and Lester is coming. He’ll be here any minute.” She added this last bit of information as if she’d just remembered.
Julia stared back, her expression resigned. She knew very well her mother had not just remembered. She was now sure this surprise guest star—her mother’s latest beau, most likely—was the entire reason for the get-together.
“I don’t remember you talking about a Lester lately, Mother.”
“Lester Baxter? I talk about him all the time. You just haven’t been paying attention, dear. I know when you call me from work you’re listening with half an ear…or less.”
Julia didn’t answer. The accusation rang true. Though she needed a scorecard to keep track of Lucy’s social life—even if she did pay attention.
“We’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately,” Lucy added quickly. “He’s very excited to meet you.”
Oh, dear. This sounded serious. Julia took a large swallow of her chardonnay. She didn’t want to overreact. That would only make her mother defensive.
“So…where did you guys meet?” She tried to sound casual and chatty, like a girlfriend, but knew it came out more like a friendly detective.
Her mother pulled open a cabinet door and began to take out dishes. “We met right here. In the kitchen. Romantic, right?”
Julia struggled to keep from rolling her eyes.
“Mom, you think everything is romantic. I suppose you’d think it was just divine if a guy came over to unstuff the garbage disposal.”
Lucy stared at her a moment, then laughed. “Well, you must have been tuned in a few times when I spoke about him. You remembered that much.”
Julia’s mouth hung open. She’d meant it as a joke. A rather sarcastic one at that. Seemed the joke was on her.
“Lester repairs appliances?”
Lucy nodded. She went to the drawer next to the stove and counted out silverware. “Eleanor next door recommended him. The man I used to call, Stanley Alcott…? He retired. So when the disposal broke down, I called Lester. He came right over. Very prompt and polite. A real gentleman. Didn’t leave any mess and he didn’t overcharge. We got to talking, of course….” Of course there was talking, knowing her mother, who could learn a person’s entire life story in the “ten items or less” line.
“He needed to order a special part and came back a few days later….”
Julia could just picture it. For Lester’s second visit, her mother probably got a facial and a manicure and prepared a special lunch. Served on the good china.
She knew how Lucy operated once she had her eye on a man. Julia didn’t need to hear any more.
“It’s okay, Mom. I get the picture.”
“We got along so well. So in tune. Right from the first.”
Lucy shook her head, a soft smile lighting her face. Remembering those early moments of the courtship, Julia guessed, as Lester diagnosed and unclogged the ailing disposal, then lunched on Lucy’s notorious “stuffed tomato.”
Kismet.
“How long ago was that? When you met, I mean,” Julia asked.
Lucy shrugged. She carefully rolled a linen napkin and slipped it into a shiny silver ring. “Let’s see…about a month or so, I guess. It’s hard to remember. It feels like I’ve known Les my whole life. I just feel so…comfortable with him.”
Julia nodded, not daring to say a word.
This was how it always started.
Julia knew now she’d been right to suspect that something was going on. Lester Baxter was going on.
Julia picked up the tray with the dishes and silverware and carried it into the dining room, then helped her mother set up the table.
“How old is he?” she asked.
“A few years older than me. But not too old.” Lucy glanced up briefly. Julia knew she was thinking about Earl T. Walker and his unfortunate demise.
“He’s ready to retire. He’s had enough of fixing appliances. But he wants to keep busy. Start a whole new business. He has some exciting plans. He’s not one of these men who just want to loaf around under a palm tree and play golf for the rest of their life.”
Julia knew her mother was talking about her ex-husband now, Julia’s father. Perhaps Lucy had been widowed three times, if you count being a golf widow while married to Tom Martinelli.
The doorbell