“I have a rule about not making decisions on the phone,” Professor Cooper said.
“Of course,” Julia said. Professor Cooper had many rules, most of them having to do with sound decision-making and efficiency. He bought one suit a year and no more, so that he stayed with the styles but also got good use out of his clothes. He kept trim by eating six large salads a week. It didn’t matter when he ate them or what else he ate besides the salads; eating six large salads was the rule.
“But if you think you can handle the move, Julia, I accept your offer. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. I’ll get back to you with the details shortly.”
When Julia hung up, she was flooded with a ticklish energy that made her do a frenzied dance in the middle of the boxes. She knew she should be scared, having made this wild decision, but she wasn’t. She was excited. She thought about telling Rose and grinned; it would be fun to shock her mother with this news. Rose had run away, and there were consequences to that. One was that Julia had every right to run away too, if only for a little while. In fact, it occurred to Julia—in the middle of her dance—that her mother might be able to help her find an apartment in New York. Rose had said that her Miami friends had real estate connections everywhere; surely one of them would know of an available apartment in New York City. Perhaps one of the old ladies had a place sitting empty right there that Julia and Alice could simply occupy.
Julia pulled a bound atlas out of one of William’s boxes; it was one of his few non-clothing belongings. She found New York State and then a close-up page of New York City. She traced the island of Manhattan with her finger. She had grown up in a city; how different could big cities be from one another? She looked around at the stacks of boxes, at the sleeping baby. She had figured out her next step, and neither her mother nor her sisters could stop her.
* * *
—
JULIA PUT OFF TELLING her sisters the news until the details had been confirmed with Professor Cooper and until Julia and Alice had plane tickets to leave for New York in two weeks’ time. One or more of her sisters came over most nights for dinner, but Julia didn’t want to tell them in person. She was scared that if her sisters became upset in front of her, she might lose her bravery and change her mind about the move. After all, the sisters had never been apart like this, never lived more than twenty minutes from one another, never not seen one another at least once a week and often every day. Julia decided the best plan was to tell one of them over the phone and then let that sister tell everyone else. She hoped she would be on the plane before they were able to hurl their collective emotions at her.
When she contemplated which sister to tell, she thought of Sylvie first, but Sylvie felt like a complicated choice. Sylvie visited Julia as often as the twins did, but she was quieter when she was in the apartment. She and Julia hugged more than they used to, and after dinner they sat side by side on the couch watching television with one sister resting her head on the other sister’s shoulder. They held hands occasionally, reaching out to squeeze each other’s fingers. Their bodies pulled together as if magnetized, as if their bodies were communicating during a period when the two oldest Padavano sisters both seemed hesitant to speak. Julia had never asked why, in the twenty-four hours after William walked out, Sylvie had been more concerned about William than her own sister. She’d never asked to hear the story of the search. She assumed Sylvie had stopped going to the hospital after William told her he wanted nothing to do with Julia and Alice, but something William’s doctor said made Julia wonder if that was true.
Dr. Dembia had left a message on the answering machine, asking for ten minutes of Julia’s time. The doctor was hoping Julia might provide some insight into what she referred to as William’s “crash.” But Julia hadn’t known he was depressed; she hadn’t seen this coming; she had been shocked by everything. When the doctor asked her for information, she realized she didn’t even know much about his childhood. William had never talked about it.
Julia said, “I think our marriage would have ended no matter what.”
There was a pause and then the doctor said, “I know this must have been very upsetting for you, even if your marriage was already in trouble.”
For a moment, Julia couldn’t speak. There was a lump in her throat, and she thought she might cry. She’d expected the doctor to chastise her for not knowing her husband. She’d expected the doctor to judge her for never coming to the hospital, even though she’d been told to stay away. She hadn’t expected kindness. And the doctor had diagnosed her correctly: What had happened had upset Julia. She’d been knocked over like a tower of children’s blocks, and even when she’d had a chance to gather herself back up, she felt like she’d lost part of her heart for good.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” Julia said, when she could trust her voice.
“Thank you for your time, Sylvie.”
Julia blinked. “Sylvie?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I misspoke. Julia. I really do appreciate your speaking with me.”
After she hung up, Julia wondered why Sylvie’s name had been on the doctor’s mind. Had Dr. Dembia seen Sylvie recently? Had her sister been standing in front of her during the conversation? The doctor’s verbal slip may have meant nothing, but now Julia had questions, and those questions put Sylvie at a distance from her. She decided to call Emeline to tell her about moving to New York. Emeline had a kind voice and was almost always holding a baby, so she never shouted. Cecelia was prone to anger when she was surprised with what she might consider bad news. So on a Wednesday in the last week of October, Julia called Emeline at the daycare.
“It’s the busiest time of the day,” Emeline said. “The babies are losing their minds. Can I call you back when I get home later?”
“I need to tell you that I took a job with Professor Cooper.”
“Oh, congratulations! That’s wonderful.”
“The first six months will be in New York City, and then I’ll be back working here.”
There was a silence, and Julia heard Emeline say, away from the phone, “Josie, can you cover for me? I need to take this call in the kitchen.” There was a pause, presumably while Josie held the phone until Emeline picked up the line in the kitchen. “Thanks, Josie,” Emeline said, and the other extension clicked off.
“New York City?” Emeline said.
“Just for six months. It’s a great opportunity, and I need the job.”
“You can’t do that,” Emeline said, and her voice sounded sharp, like Cecelia’s. Emeline was a butter knife; Cecelia, a steak knife. “You can’t leave now. In the middle of everything. That’s a mistake, Julia. You can’t run away.”
“It’s short term. I’m not running away.” This frustrated Julia, though, because she knew Emeline meant running away from her marriage, and as far as Julia was concerned, that wasn’t even possible. William had been perfectly clear. Their marriage was over. There was nothing to run away from.
“You need us with you,” Emeline said. “You might not realize that, but you do. We need each other right now.”
“You can come visit me in New York, Emmie. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“I’m disappointed,” Emeline said, and Julia realized that she’d had her calculus all wrong. She’d called the wrong sister. Emeline was their conscience. Julia should have called Cecelia and they could have shouted at each other. She could have even called Sylvie and listened to the news bounce off her sister’s silence. Emeline was operating from a place of right and wrong. She wasn’t trying to win an argument. Cecelia and Sylvie would have been trying to win. Julia would have been better able to find a foothold in those contests.