Free Seeing Julia by Katherine Owen

Evan and I were in the midst of wedding plans dealing with everything from the guest list to tasting wedding cake and dinner entrees and champagne to choosing theme colors and flowers. The fitting of my crème-colored wedding dress and Evan’s black tuxedo led to an intimate evening with just the two of us. We dispensed with tradition that night and he made love to me in my bridal gown two weeks before January tenth’s big event. The memories of being that happy overwhelm me. We were overjoyed at being pregnant and starting a new life together. Now, just a year later, Evan’s gone from me forever.
    “If I told you I envision a large pitcher of margaritas in my future, on Christmas Eve, drinking myself silly and then wanting to spend the entire day in bed on Christmas Day, but, I let you choose where, what would you say?”
    “I’d say, sounds good. I’m there. But you choose where.”
    “Amagansett,” I say. “It’s Reid’s first Christmas.”
    Kimberley nods and casually wipes away a tear and stares straight ahead intent on the road ahead.
    “Yes. Thought of that.”
    “But, no gifts.”
    She looks forlorn. “No gifts?” The only thing Kimmy likes better than sex is giving and getting gifts.
    “One gift.” I give her a determined look wondering exactly what I’m going to get her, since my sphere of existence has not been to venture beyond the beach house at Amagansett, the cemetery in New Haven, my sessions with Dr. Stevenson at Lenox-Hill, or the one-time requisite appearance in Manhattan for Evan’s funeral service and wake. This last occasion conjures up a clear image of Jake Winston’s handsome face, just above mine, which practically jolts me out of my seat. Don’t think about him.
    Kimberley peers over at me curiously when she sees this, while I shrink further as if this action alone will prevent further invasions of Jake Winston’s persona.
    “One gift.” The way she says this already conveys she’ll be breaking this rule. “We’ll celebrate at the beach house. Serve margaritas for Christmas cheer. Just the inner circle.”
    “You, Gregoire, Steph, Christian, Reid, and me,” I say.
    “Right.” She has this bemused look on her face and I already wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.
    ≈ ≈*

     

Chapter 7- Not so perfect
    D r. Bradley Stevenson insists on keeping our weekly session even the day before Christmas. I saunter in to his inner office sanctum and give him a rueful grin. “Happy Holidays.” This salutation is as close as I can manage in acknowledging Christmas and my way of expressing my gratitude for him seeing me the day before without actually saying so. I avoid his quizzical look and settle in one of the chairs across from him.
    “How are you?” Dr. Stevenson asks.
    “I’m fine,” I say with a slight shrug.
    He arches an eyebrow, looks in my general direction, and repeats his question.
    “It’s difficult. The holidays. Reid’s first Christmas. We’re spending Christmas in Amagansett. Santa’s coming.” I reward him with a wry half-smile.
    “How does that make you feel?”
    “Santa?” He gives me a come-on-Julia stare.
    I’m about to give him another one of my I’m fine standard answers, when out of nowhere, I launch into a detailed description about my troubled morning. “I’m in the grocery store earlier today picking up things for tonight and some woman comes up to me and squeezes my hand. I’m so sorry for your loss she says and she starts crying. I don’t know how to respond. She’s wringing her hands and touching me and telling me how much she loved Evan. She was a neighbor of the Hamilton’s’, Evan’s parents. She tells me she was at our wedding. Now just at his funeral. She’s going on and on, sobbing now; and I’m just standing there trying to comfort her with my arms around her and trying to place her face. I don’t know who she is. But, she knew Evan.”
    I stop and take a deep breath and look over at him. “Then, she says, first