Free Julie and Romeo Get Lucky by Jeanne Ray Page B

would do: I took the cordless phone outside, sat down on the chilly back steps that overlooked my garbage cans, and called my best friend. With Gloria I was free to wallow in self-pity for as long as I wanted, without having to endure the unpleasant aftertaste of guilt that comes from making a scene.
    â€œDo you still love him?” Gloria asked.
    I sighed, exasperated. It was such a trick of Gloria’s, throwing out an impossibly worst-case scenario to defuse the crisis at hand with perspective. “Of course I still love him. I probably love him more.”
    â€œYou’re just tired,” she said.
    â€œVery tired.”
    â€œAnd you aren’t having any sex.”
    â€œIt’s a privilege I lost once I broke his back.”
    â€œIt wasn’t your fault.”
    â€œI didn’t see anybody else there.”
    â€œSo this is penance?”
    Penance. I hadn’t thought of it that way. It was a very Catholic concept. Was it possible that all my work was simply paying off the damage I had done?
    â€œI guess that could be it. I’m not saying Romeo is asking me to do all the things I’m doing. Most of it comes from me. He really tries very hard not to be too demanding.”
    â€œWhen Buzz had his heart attack, he started asking me to cut the crusts off his sandwiches. He told me he wanted to drink mango juice in the morning. He said he had to have ESPN on, even when he was asleep.”
    â€œOh God, it’s nothing like that.” I looked around to make sure that no one was within earshot. “Maybe I’m just frustrated because having him around makes me realize how much I wish I did live with him.” I hadn’t admitted this to Romeo. I hadn’t even really admitted it to myself. Despite the constant running around, I really liked having him there. I wanted to keep him.
    â€œI guess you could always compress another one of his vertebrae.”
    â€œNo, seriously. With Sandy and Tony and the kids and all of Romeo’s family, sometimes I think this is the only chance we’re ever going to have to live together. It makes me feel…I don’t know—”
    â€œWistful.”
    â€œExactly.” Gloria had an annoying habit of finishing my sentences but sometimes she did a better job of it than I would have, anyway.
    â€œSpeaking of Sandy and the kids, tell Sarah I’ll drop her lottery tickets by sometime tomorrow.”
    â€œHer lottery tickets?”
    â€œShe called and asked me to pick them up for her. She said everybody at home was so busy with Romeo that she didn’t want to bother anyone. Isn’t that cute? She’s so grown-up on the telephone.”
    â€œHow many did she ask you for?”
    â€œJust two,” Gloria said. “But I got her three. They’re only a dollar.”
    â€œSandy told us…” I started, but then I saw there really wasn’t any point.
    â€œDon’t worry about Sandy. You should be concentrating on Romeo. The man you love is helpless in your bed. Seize the day!”
    Living with a person changes things. After three years of feeling very close to Romeo, I suddenly realized I had never really known him at all. You may think you speak the language, but until you actually live in the country you’re just playing around. Romeo liked hot things hot and cold things cold. Plenty of ice in everything, including orange juice. He liked to watch the Today Show in the morning and seemed particularly smitten with the wide-eyed female host, though he denied it. He preferred the Times to the Globe, slept in socks, and hummed along with any piece of Beethoven that came on the radio. He woke up cheerful in the morning, even when under the influence of various pharmaceuticals. He slept with his mouth wide-open at night but did not snore.
    But the main thing I came to realize about Romeo was that he was a very popular guy. All day long, the doorbell rang. Dominic came first thing in the