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“THERE IS!" PHOEBE SAT forward, setting her own mug aside. "Look at her! She's blushing!"
"No, no! There's no one, really." Juliette shook her head, her eyes down.
"You're keeping something from us, Jules. You're a rotten liar." Phoebe scrutinized her with narrowed eyes.
Juliette pushed back her chair and stood up, gathering up the teabag wrappers and used napkins scattered around the table.
"Oh, no you don't." Renata reached out and snatched the trash from her hands. "Sit down and give us the scoop. You know we'll find out about him soon enough."
Juliette shook her head. "No, you won't. I doubt you even know him." Then she cringed as she realized what she'd just admitted.
"Ha! I told you!" Phoebe leapt up and spun in a circle, her flowery skirt fluttering around her legs. Gia joined her, and the two of them waltzed around the kitchen together, hooting like children. Renata was grinning, too, and she didn't even roll her eyes at the other girls' antics. Juliette sighed and sank back into her seat in defeat.
"Why do I even let you in my house?"
"Because you love us so much," Phoebe and Gia swept around behind her. "Even Renata." Phoebe planted a kiss on the top of Juliette's head. "And we love you more. Now tell us all about him." She grabbed her chair, dragging it over until she was sitting elbow to elbow with Juliette, and Gia slid back into her own seat, her cheeks flushed from the romp.
All three sisters stared at Juliette, expectant, determined.
"Fine. But you're going to be disappointed," Juliette grumped. "I got pulled over several weeks ago." There was a round of confused glances. "I got a ticket."
"Were you speeding?" Renata asked.
"Yes. Ten miles over the limit."
"And?"
"Then about ten days later, I got pulled over again by the same officer. I made a total fool of myself, and he thought I was a freak, but Sharon talked him out of another ticket, and he let us go with a warning."
"Were you speeding again? You didn't learn from your first ticket?"
"I wasn't speeding, mother." Juliette gave Renata the evil eye over her mug, sipping her hot drink carefully. "I was pretending to drive blind."
Phoebe started to snicker. Then Gia. Then Renata. Finally Juliette joined in too, laughing at her own expense.
"I'm sorry, Jules, but only you would pretend to drive blind." Phoebe wiped her eyes, moist from her laughter.
"So what does this have to do with your new man?" Renata asked when everyone had calmed down. "Wait!" She held up a hand. "The police officer?"
"You fell in love with a cop because he pulled you over twice?" Phoebe elbowed her, but not hard enough to slosh the tea. "Desperate, Jules."
"It's not like that." Somehow, the direction of the conversation was changing, and Juliette felt a little befuddled, not quite sure how to explain her connection to Officer Jarrett. "Someone called the police and sent him over to check on me. He's a friend of Trevor's and—"
"He's been here? Juliette! You have an officer hot on your tail!" Renata laughed at her own joke. No one else did.
Juliette filled them in on the rest of her encounters with Victor Jarrett, and by the end of her story, they were all a little subdued.
"Something must have happened. Guys aren't fickle like we women are. They don't go from being sweet and gentle to mean and rude without a reason." Phoebe shook her head in consternation. "Are you sure you weren't just reading too much into his behavior the other night?"
"No. Even Trevor said it wasn't like him at all. I don't know why it upset me, anyway." Juliette shrugged. "He's not my type at all."
"What do you mean, not your type?" Renata snorted. "I don't think you even know what your type is."
"Well, I knew Frisky Frank wasn't my type. Or Thera-Paul. Besides, I really mean he can't be my type. I can't be interested in a police officer."
"Why not?"
"Because his whole life is too unpredictable. I couldn't stand the uncertainty and danger." Juliette straightened in her chair. "So see? It's all worked out for the best. I don't want a police officer anyway."
"Or a Frank. Or a Paul. Or a Trevor." Renata frowned. "Maybe you should start thinking about what you do want, instead of always ruling out what you don't want."
"Let's make a new list!" The suggestion came from Gia, and the other three turned to look at her. "What?" she asked.
"Good idea, Georgia." Renata nodded. "It might benefit all three of you."
"All four of us, lest you get lax in your expectations, and John slacks off," Phoebe teased.
"Not possible," Renata shook her head. "He's perfect in every way."
Now it was Phoebe's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh my. Let's make a list of Mr. Perfect's attributes. Go, Ren."
"Wait!" Gia exclaimed. "What should we call this one?"
Juliette sighed and covered her face with her hands.
"We'll call it The Champion List." Renata tore a page out of her agenda and handed it to Juliette, along with a pen. "Here, Juliette. You write. We're going to find you a new man, yet."
"But I don't need a new man right now!" she wailed.
They decided to make the list anyway. "You'll be ready someday," Renata stated. She started it off with words like loyal, faithful, and committed. Phoebe winked at Juliette and added hot, impulsive, and daring. Gia's first word made them all stop and listen as she explained her contribution.
"Patience is really important to me. I don't want a guy who will push me into things I'm not ready for just because he thinks he's ready. I want my relationship to grow at a pace that lets me learn to really appreciate it. Love needs time to take root and grow strong before it blossoms, right?" When no one responded she tried to further clarify.
"You know Granny G's giant sunflowers? Sometimes one will get planted too close to another one, and it ends up too tall and skinny to support the weight of the flower head at the top. Then it falls over and can't survive. I don't want to be in a relationship like that where all the glory is in the flower, only to have it fall on its face because we didn't put our energy into the roots and stalk first."
Much to Gia's delight, her word had been moved to the top of list. She also added brave and gentle, along with funny and kind.
Although the reason for The Champion List was still a little ambiguous to Juliette, it didn't come with the same pressures of the Monday ManDates, so she stopped arguing and start contributing. She had a few things she would add to it in private; traits her sisters might dismiss, but traits she decided she wouldn't do without in a man. Believes in God was going at the very top.
That night as Juliette lay in bed perusing the new list, she admitted that the character qualities were wonderful, but she seriously doubted there existed such a man. No one could be that perfect. Okay. Maybe Trevor Zander was. But if Trevor had the market on perfection, then perfection apparently wasn't what she was looking for. And really, the thought of being with someone so flawless intimidated her.
Sleepy, she lay the list down on her Bible on the nightstand. Reaching over to turn off the light, her eyes fell on the card still propped against the base of her lamp. Officer James V. Jarrett.
She was so confused over the change in his behavior toward her. Before Monday, she might have thought he was a good candidate for their new list, but now she wasn't so sure.
She switched off the lamp and almost turned away, when she realized she could still see his name in the blue glow from the oversized numbers on her alarm clock. She stared at the tiny letters as though the key to his strange behavior might be written there. Victor, not James. Trevor had called him Vic. Vic Jarrett. No, she preferred Victor. Victor Jarrett. Victor and Juliette. Juliette Jarrett.
"James and Juliette Jarrett? Oh no!" She grabbed a pillow and put it over her face.
But the more the names played over in her mind, the more musical they sounded to her ears.
~ ~ ~
IT WAS MONDAY AGAIN, and she couldn't believe how nice it was to have the evening to herself. Juliette had gone to the grocery store on her way home from work and stopped at her favorite little Italian bistro for take-out dinner. She showered, changed into her pajamas and robe, and passed the mirror with only a wave and a light-hearted "Hello, Ducky!" in her best cockney imitation. Her plans included relaxing, eating, watching a little television, and whatever else she could do without moving off the sofa.
Juliette sat down and pulled her tray toward her. On it was her dinner of tortellini pasta in a sun-dried tomato sauce, a chilled bottle of sparkling water, and a huge square of Tiramisu. She was starving.
She unfolded her napkin, picked up her fork, and jumped when someone knocked on her door. She wasn't expecting anyone, and having discovered a darling new BBC sitcom that started in ten minutes, she hoped it was just a case of a wrong address, although she couldn't imagine why anyone would want to visit Mrs. Cork.
Through the peephole, under the glow of her porch light, she saw a man. He had a freshly-scrubbed look about him, and was obviously nervous; he kept tugging at the tie around his neck and repeatedly smoothing his already slicked-back hair.
"Oh no," Juliette moaned, her thoughts creating a traffic jam inside her head. Was there a Monday ManDate scheduled for today after all? Had she agreed to this? And would he go away if she just ignored him?
No, that would be cruel to the poor man standing outside. Opting for honesty, she opened the door. His uncomprehending look made her feel terrible, but she squared her shoulders and smiled up at him.
"Hello," she said, her voice already laced with apology.
He tugged on his tie and smoothed his hair. "Hello." He cleared his throat. "I'm Tim Larsen. Uh, are you..." he cleared his throat again. "Are you Juliette?" His eyes darted over to the house numbers on the plaque beside her door.
"I am." She smiled weakly, wishing for an easy way out for both of them. "Are you a friend of Renata's?" Wishing for an easy way to mortally wound Renata, too.
"Uh, Renata, yes. And John."
"I'm so sorry, Tim. I'm afraid there's been a mix-up. I wasn't expecting you tonight."
"You weren't expecting me?" He was a big man, quite a bit taller than she was, and he looked nice, albeit ill at ease, in his black pants and pale blue shirt. He wore a lightweight tweed sports coat that made him look almost professorial, but the tie seemed more like a noose than a fashion accessory as he stuck his finger over the knot at his throat and tugged.
"Not tonight, no." She stepped away from the door and indicated her outfit.
"I see."
"I'm sorry," she apologized again. She saw movement at the corner of her eye, and glanced over to see Mrs. Cork come out her front door carrying her dog. She didn't put the fluff-ball down as she usually did, but instead, stood there with her free hand on her hip, watching them. She was not smiling, and she did not return Juliette's polite little wave.
Tim cleared his throat again. "Uh, we have dinner reservations at seven."
"Oh dear. Right. Reservations." What could she say? This was terrible.
"Did I come early? Would you like me to wait?" He reached inside his coat and withdrew a cell phone. "I can call the restaurant and move the reservation back."
"No, Tim." She held up a hand to stop him and apologized yet again. "I'm so sorry. Somehow, somewhere along the line, wires got crossed. I—I'm not prepared to go anywhere tonight."
He had the disconcerting tendency to watch her lips when she spoke, and she resisted the urge to cover her mouth with her hand.
"Okay. I see." She couldn't be certain, but she thought she heard a trace of relief behind the disappointment in his voice. They both stood there for a few more awkward moments, Mrs. Cork unabashedly glaring at them.
In her head, Gia was back with her crickets.
"Well. Uh, I'm...going to go then." He wasn't quite mumbling, but she had to lean forward to hear him. "I'm sorry to have intruded on you like this."
"You didn't intrude. It was just a mix-up." Everything she said sounded placating, rather than comforting.
"Right. A mix-up. Okay." He nodded. "Uh, goodnight." And he turned and made his way down the steps and out to the street where a large black truck was parked. She knew nothing about trucks, but despite its shiny paint job, it looked old, maybe a classic, with its rounded hood and wheel wells, its narrow bed.
She waited until he pulled away before she went back inside, waving once more at her disgruntled neighbor. She wasn't surprised when the woman only scowled in return.
While she waited for her pasta to reheat, she dialed Renata's number. Her sister answered the phone in a distracted manner, obviously in the middle of some family activity.
"Hey, Ren. Do you know a guy named Tim Larsen?"
"Yes. He's one of John's friends. A hunting buddy. How do you—" Then she gasped. "Oh no!"
"Oh yes. He just left my house."
"Oh no!" Renata repeated. "I completely forgot to call him and cancel." She shushed a kid who was trying to get her attention. "What did you say to him?"
"I just told him it was all a misunderstanding. Don't worry. I didn't blame you."
"I can't believe I did that. I need to call him." Renata sounded genuinely worried.
"It's all right, Ren. He'll be fine, I'm sure. He's probably relieved, now that he's seen me in my pajamas." She braced the phone between her shoulder and ear as she pulled her food out of the microwave.
"I told him he had to wear a tie. Did he?"
"He did. But anyone could tell he hated it." Juliette set her hot plate on the tray, turned the television on but kept it muted, and sat down on the edge of the sofa to finish the conversation while the opening credits of her show flashed soundlessly across the screen in front of her. "You should have called him, Ren."
"I know. I blew it. Poor Tim." She paused a moment, then asked, "Are you sure you don't want to go out—"
"No, Renata. Don't even think about it."
A heaviness settled around her shoulders. Why did her sister seem so insensitive to others? Why did she feel like she had to control everyone?
What about her faith? Where did that come into play with her control issues? Juliette always struggled to line up her sister's actions and attitudes with the way her friend, Sharon lived. It was one of the reasons Juliette had such a hard time trusting God; how could He be so different to different people?
Perhaps, though, Renata didn't have it right, in spite of her insistence that she did. Juliette shook her head. It was all still a little confusing to her, this whole Christianity thing, and she certainly wasn't the one to judge her sister who'd been a believer for years.
Another knock interrupted her thoughts. Now what? She got up and headed back to the door, dreading the thought that Tim might have returned.
Officer Jarrett? What was he doing here?
