Julia's Daughters (27 page)

Epilogue

Julia

 

“Mom?” Haley calls. I hear a tap on the office door and it swings open. I'm sitting at my desk, my pink reading glasses perched on my nose, staring at the computer screen, trying to make sense of an invoice.

Haley stands in the doorway wearing black jeans and a pale blue polar fleece with our café's embroidered logo on it. Her hair has grown; it's pulled back in a ponytail. It's still dyed, but a gentler shade of dark brown, closer to her natural color. She's still wearing too much eye pencil, in my opinion, but she looks cute. Like a normal college freshman. “Ed says we're going to need more chicken breasts before the order comes in next week.”

I take my reading glasses off. They embarrass me and tickle me at the same time. They're pink with rhinestones; Izzy picked them out at a boutique in Las Vegas when we flew home for Ben's birthday last month. It was actually a fun trip; we visited the Hoover Dam for the millionth time and ate at one of the girls' favorite restaurants. A little like the old days, but not of course, because we don't have Caitlin anymore and Ben and I are in the process of divorcing. I was glad we went. There seemed to be a kind of closure in the visit. At least a quiet acceptance of the new normal.

“I'll give Cabo Farms a call,” I tell Haley.

“I can call them and pick up the chicken after my accounting class tomorrow.” She steps into the messy office that's piled with stuff I need to go through: clothing samples we're considering selling with our logo on them, two cases of vegan potato chips that was incorrectly delivered, and who knows what else. “I just wanted to make sure it was okay if I charged them.”

“It's fine.”

I can't stop staring at her; she doesn't look like the same kid she was when we got here. She's gained a little weight and she has color in her cheeks; I can't tell if it's sunburn or windburn. She bought a kayak this summer and kayaks several times a week. She says it clears her head. She's doing so well. I'm so proud of her. That's not to say she doesn't have her dark moments. We all do. But she managed to get her high school diploma through a summer program and she's attending community college with twelve credit hours, and working in the café.

“What?” Haley says, scrunching up her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She wipes at her mouth. “Have I got something on my face? I was trying our new lettuce wraps. The mahi with aioli is bangin'.”

I shake my head. “You're fine. No reason.”

“Can I have a sandwich to go?” Izzy hollers from the hallway. “Mom! Eddie says he hasn't shut the grill down yet.” She walks through the doorway, dressed in her white tae kwon do dobok.

“You're going to have to hurry.” I pick up my cell from the desk, check the time, and set it down again. “We have to go in ten minutes.” I squint at the computer screen. “I think the green grocer's messed up our invoice again. We didn't order a case of turnips, did we?”

“I don't eat turnips,” Izzy says, tightening her belt.

Izzy has shot up two inches since spring, and when I took her shopping for school clothes last month, I actually bought her a couple of bras. She might not need them yet, but soon, I think. Her body's changing too fast for me; I'm not looking forward to going through puberty with another girl.

“We didn't order a case. I ordered one bunch. To try out a couple of recipes for changes to the fall menu,” Haley says. She glances at her sister and then at me. “If you want to finish up here, I can take her to tae kwon do. I'll just wait around for her and we'll meet you at home. It's Laney's turn to make dinner. We're on cleanup.”

We rented the house next door to Laney and during the week, we take turns making dinner. It saves time for everyone and the communal meals are a good opportunity to make my girls, and Laney's boys, feel like they're part of a family. It's just not a conventional family.

“You don't have homework?”

Haley makes a face. “You can't ask me if I have homework, Mom. I told you that.”

“I know. I know.” I hold up my hand, getting up from the desk to stretch my legs. I've been sitting here for hours. I'm amazed by the amount of paperwork a twenty-four-seat café can produce. I fall into bed exhausted every night. But it's a good kind of exhaustion, the kind you experience when you've set off on an impossible journey and discovered it's not impossible. “I just didn't want you spending time running errands for me if you need to study.”

“It's fine. I can do my reading in that little waiting area.”

“So can I have the sandwich?” Izzy asks. She's wearing her red hair in two braids the way Laney does; Laney taught her how to do it.

“You can, but first you have to give me a kiss. I haven't seen you all day.”

“Mom,” Izzy groans.

I walk around my desk and cut between two boxes. “Just a little hug,” I tease, opening my arms.

Haley backs up into the doorway as I wrap my arms around my youngest. “Don't look at me,” Haley tells us. “I'm not getting into the middle of this hugfest.”

Izzy gives me a quick squeeze and pulls away. “See you at home.” She runs out the door. “Bye, Mom. Love you. Mean it.”

“You sure you don't want me to take her?” I ask Haley.

“She'll be fine, Mom.” She rests her hand on the doorknob. “It's ten minutes away. You know I'll be super careful.”

I meet Haley's gaze. “I didn't mean it that way,” I say. The first couple of times Haley drove Izzy I
did
worry myself to death, but after three months, I've relaxed. That's not to say I don't think about the accident or Caitlin. I do. Every day. Sometimes the pain is sudden and so intense that I think I'll just crumble.

But I don't.

Because I'm strong, like my daughters.

Please turn the page for a very special Q&A with Colleen Faulkner!

 

What was the most difficult thing about writing
Julia's Daughters
?

 

I think the hardest thing about writing this kind of book is being unable to separate myself from the feelings of the characters I'm writing about. While I'm aware that the characters in books aren't real people, in order to write about their pain, Julia's in particular, because I'm also a mother, I couldn't help feeling some of that pain. The upside is that when Julia and her girls were able to laugh or feel good about themselves, if only for a moment, I felt that joy, as well.

 

 

In
Just Like Other Daughters, As Close As Sisters,
and now in
Julia's Daughters,
you tackle some pretty difficult life challenges. What makes you gravitate to these kinds of stories?

 

I come from a family of very strong women, particularly my mother, and I was fortunate enough to have known not just my grandmother, but my great-grandmother and my great-great-grandmother. They were such amazing role models and they told the best stories about their lives, stories I still carry with me even though most of them are gone now. The thing that struck me about the Faulkner women is the same thing that I see in the women in my life today, friends and family. It's in the face of adversity that ordinary women become extraordinary and I think we all have the capacity to be extraordinary women. Unfortunately, it's often only when we're faced with difficult circumstances that we find out just how strong we can be.

 

 

Tell us a little bit about how you write. Computer or longhand? Do you write every day? Do you have a special place to write where you feel most creative?

 

I write Monday through Friday, about nine to six, and rarely on weekends, except to make up for a missed day. I know that sounds boring and not at all creative, but I've been writing and publishing for twenty-eight years and keeping to a schedule means I make my deadlines. I have an office in my home where I've always worked, but about a year ago I started getting up in the morning and going to a local coffee shop to write. You would think that the noise and confusion around me would be a detriment to my creativity, but it isn't. Writing is such a solitary vocation; I think I like being out in the world. I write on a laptop and rely totally on the wonders of modern technology. I never print hard copies of anything, which worries my mother because she's a writer, too, and she's always worried I'll “lose” my work. The only people who read my manuscript before it goes to my editor and agent are my mom, who reads it for content, and my husband, who finds the typos.

 

 

What's up next?

 

The next Colleen Faulkner book will be released in November of 2016, but I'm one of those writers who never likes to share what she's working on until I absolutely have to. I consider myself more of a storyteller than a writer and the storyteller in me doesn't like to tell the same story over and over. Somehow it loses some of its magic in the retelling. By keeping my book to myself, I find I'm eager to get up every morning and get to work because each day is the first time I'm telling that story. Eventually, though, I'll be forced to share the details with my agent and editor, so you can check my Web site periodically for news on the new book:
www.colleenfaulknernovels.com

JULIA'S DAUGHTERS

 

 

Colleen Faulkner

 

 

ABOUT THIS GUIDE

 

The suggested questions are included to
enhance your group's reading of
Colleen Faulkner's
Julia's Daughters.

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

 

Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018

 

Copyright © 2015 by Colleen Faulkner

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

 

Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-1-6177-3933-0

First Kensington Electronic Edition: November 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1-61773-933-0

ISBN-10: 1-61773-933-2
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: November 2015