It was a beautiful spring day for the drive from Hershey to Philadelphia. At nine in the morning, with the early rush over, the traffic on the Pennsylvania Turnpike was fairly light, making driving a pleasure rather than a grind.
Drawing in a deep breath of the mild, fresh-scented spring air wafting in the open driver's side window, Julia Langston softly hummed along with the music of her teen years playing on the radio's oldies station.
Her teen years. God, it seemed like forever ago. Julia's humming gave way to a half laugh, half sigh. Hell, it was forever ago. At least, she reflected, after twenty-two years and two kids it felt like forever.
At times, Julia amended, heaving a deeper sigh…minus the laugh. There had been good years, wonderful years, and there had been not-so-good years. But the past couple of years had been the worst, fraught with fear, anxiety and uncertainty, pain and distrust.
And it was all her husband's fault…well, at least, most of it was his fault.
The thought brought Julia up short, shaking her out of the path of depression her mind was headed for. She had been there, done that — a lot — over the previous months. She had also done the antidepressant routine.
Enough was enough.
Wasn't that the very reason she was making this drive? Why she had smiled through the giggles and teasing remarks from her teenage daughters, both of whom thought the idea of their parents having a romantic rendezvous — at their age — was not only funny but a bit strange?
At their age?
Julia winced at the memory of her sixteen-yearold daughter's words.
"What do people you and Dad's age do during a getaway? Live on the edge by staying up late and watching TV?"
Lucky for Emily she had made the remark in a teasing tone. Even so, she had set a bad example for her fourteen-year-old sister Emma. But Emma, being Emma, giggled and went right along with her sister.
"Yeah, do you turn on a racy movie — " she nearly choked on her giggles " — like the latest Disney flick?"
"That will be quite enough from you two," Julia scolded them, her tone light to conceal a twinge of hurt feelings inflicted by their ribbing.
Yes, Julia had decided, she had had enough; she had had more than enough, not only of her daughters' teasing, but of her entire domestic situation. Which was why she was making this Tuesday morning run into Philly.
Getaway?
Hah.
A showdown with her husband Jonathan better described her mission. And some shopping — a lot of shopping — over the next few days while she waited for him to fly into Philly from the West coast.
Would their time together end with a new appreciation of one another? Or the never-mentioned, but always underlying possibility of a permanent separation…even divorce?
A showdown? Or a resolution?
Julia slid out of the car, tipped the attendant as she handed him her keys, and slowly followed the bellman carrying her luggage into the four-star hotel's lobby. Head bent, she frowned as she extracted a couple more bills from her wallet to tip the bellman; she would have to get a twenty changed somewhere, she was running out of small tipping bills. She didn't notice the woman coming toward her.
"Julie?"
The voice was instantly familiar, as was the nickname she hadn't heard for some time. A forming smile erased her frown of concentration.
"Laura!" she cried.
"Julie!" Laughing, the woman flung her arms around Julia. "I don't believe it. It is you."
Julia laughed with her. "Well, of course it's me. My God, Laura, I haven't seen you in forever." Stepping back, she swept a glance over her friend. "You look great," she glibly lied, feeling a pang, for in truth her friend looked tired, and at least twenty or thirty pounds heavier than before.
"Yeah…sure," Laura scoffed, her expression both knowing and rueful. "Let's face facts, dear friend. I look dreadful. Tired, fat and middle-aged…probably because I am all three."
"You're no such things," Julia protested. "Maybe you do look a bit tired, and you have gained a little…"
"A bit? A little!" Laura interrupted, laughing.
"How diplomatic you are. My dear, I feel — and look — completely wiped, and I've gained thirtysome pounds since I quit smoking almost a year ago, and I'm almost forty. If that's not beat-looking, fat and middle-aged, what is?"
Continues...
Excerpted from Cutting Through by Joan Hohl Copyright © 2005 by Joan Hohl. Excerpted by permission.
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