Julia wanted to say, You gave up a child. You gave up Cecelia. But she didn’t want to hurt her mother, and she knew Rose would say that was completely different because Cecelia was already grown. When Julia played this argument out in her head, at the end, she and her mother both lost. She sighed and said, “William meant it.”
“He’s upset, and you’re upset too. Listen to me. Your husband is a nice man. He doesn’t drink, and he doesn’t play around. Maybe graduate school didn’t work out, but he can get a job. You have a baby, for heaven’s sake. You have to think clearly. It’s a horrible thing to be a divorced woman. Men can recover from a marriage ending, but women don’t. Do you really want to throw your life away? You’re only twenty-three.”
Julia shook her head. “More people get divorced now than they did in your day, Mama. It’s not that big a deal.”
Rose blew air into the phone. “Not a big deal! It’s a big deal in the church, I can tell you that. And we’re the talk of the neighborhood,” she said. “Everyone loves a disaster. Father Cole baptized and married you—imagine how heartbroken he’ll be if you go through with this. Remember how Mrs. Callahan stopped combing her hair after her husband left and no one else wanted her?”
“I would never be like that,” Julia said, offended.
“William is going through a rough time, but we all do. Nothing as flashy as trying to drown in Lake Michigan, hopefully, but we all run into a wall at full speed at one point or another. A wife’s role is to stand by her husband when that happens. Twenty years from now, you’ll look back together on this time and it’ll look like a small blip in your marriage. You’ll be glad you stuck it out.”
Julia surveyed the boxes that surrounded her. She thought of the broken expression on Rose’s face in the garden after Cecelia announced she was pregnant. Rose had run into a wall. And William had too, of course. But Julia hadn’t. She was healthy, and whole, and full of capacity. She had watched her mother stick out her own marriage, and that path wasn’t for Julia. She was her father’s rocket. She and Alice would be better on their own. “I’m going to move,” she said. “I’m waiting to hear about work from Professor Cooper, and I have to leave this apartment, because William is no longer enrolled at Northwestern.”
“Right now you have to move? Those people won’t give you an extra month, after what happened?”
“No, they won’t.” This wasn’t true, or at least it wasn’t true as far as Julia knew. She didn’t know when she had to move out by. She had a stack of mail to go through, and perhaps some of it was from Northwestern, but she’d already put the mail, unopened, into a box labeled Julia. Almost all the boxes were labeled Julia or Alice. Her husband seemed to own only clothes, a few basketballs, and his manuscript, which was still wrapped in its paper bag.
“That’s ridiculous,” Rose said, and Julia could tell she didn’t believe her. “You want me to help you find an apartment in Pilsen? The ladies I’m friends with here have real estate connections everywhere. Let’s take care of this. I can make some calls in the neighborhood. We can get you moved, and when your head’s clear, you’ll reconsider things with William.”
“You’re too far away to help with moving,” Julia said. “Thank you, though.”
“Don’t be a fool. And don’t use me as an excuse for bad behavior, Julia. You were raised better than that. How’s my grandbaby?”
Julia looked over and smiled, because Alice had fallen asleep on the blanket. In the middle of stacks of boxes; in front of her mother, who was wearing jeans and an old sweatshirt; despite her grandmother hollering through the phone into Julia’s soul.
“She’s perfect,” Julia said. “I’m going to make sure she stays perfect.”
* * *
—
PROFESSOR COOPER HAD TOLD her that he was waiting for a particular project to come together so he would know which positions he might need filled. He called one afternoon and left a brief message on the machine. Julia knew he was too intelligent not to have realized that she wasn’t answering her phone at all, since she always called him back directly after he left a message. She didn’t mind if he suspected something was going on in her life, though. Suspecting was fine. Julia didn’t know anything about Professor Cooper’s personal life either. She liked that their relationship was purely professional.
When she phoned him back, Professor Cooper said, “Julia, I’m sorry to say that I won’t be able to use your services right now. Probably not until next May, to be honest. I’m sorry, as I know that’s not what you hoped to hear.”
“But it’s”—Julia searched her mind for the date—“October twelfth.”
“I know. You see, I’ve been offered a large six-month project in New York, so I’ll be out of town until it’s finished. My work here will pick back up in the late spring, and at that point I’d be very pleased to have you work with me.”
Julia tried to process this information. What would she do for the entire winter and spring? Besides babysitting and the kinds of jobs you did as a teenager, she’d never worked for anyone other than Professor Cooper. And he paid her enough that she could afford a good daycare for Alice. She’d planned to put the baby in Emeline’s daycare when she started working so the baby could be doted on by her aunt and play with Izzy, who was there most days.
Julia considered herself very lucky to have taken a class with Professor Cooper; she’d signed up for the organizational-psychology course out of curiosity, not understanding the nature of the subject. Cooper was a reserved man; he’d appeared flustered when she approached him as a student and asked if she could help him during the summer break. She’d offered to run errands, fetch coffee, whatever he wanted. And she had done some of that, but the professor seemed to realize that having her with him when he went on location to meet clients made the clients happy. Julia was smart, with insightful ideas. “I value your beginner’s mind,” Professor Cooper would say, and then tell her the complicated workflow problem he was struggling to solve. Sometimes she didn’t understand well enough to help, but several times she had suggestions or ideas that sent him off in a new direction.
“I’ll come with you,” Julia heard herself say now. “I can help you with the big project.”
“Come with me to New York?” The man sounded shocked.
Julia was shocked by the suggestion too.
“Forgive me”—Professor Cooper hesitated—“but don’t you have a husband and a child?”
“I’ll bring the baby,” Julia said. “They must have good daycares in New York. And it’s only six months.”
A plan formed in Julia’s mind. This could solve, or at least delay, several of her problems. She could store all of her furniture and belongings and put off finding a new apartment until she’d returned from New York. She would be far away from William while the divorce and his revocation of parental rights took place, which she thought might help keep the process businesslike. If William changed his mind and Julia lived in Chicago, he could argue with her in person. But if she was in New York, he would have to resort to a phone call or write a letter. The dust and drama would have settled in half a year’s time. Perhaps when Julia returned, she would be able to live in Pilsen, near her sisters. Rose’s friends would be less likely to chase her down the street asking why her marriage had ended and what she’d done wrong. Six months would offer a very different terrain from the hot coals her family was currently standing on.
“That’s an interesting proposal,” Professor Cooper said. “Hypothetically, I would pay for your plane ticket, of course, but everything else…I was planning to hire someone local.”
“I’ll cover the move,” she said. “I can afford to do that.” She almost said, I’ve never been to New York, so seeing it would be exciting, but she feared that would make her sound unserious about the work and also less helpful than a local hire, who would almost certainly know where to eat and how the subway system worked.