Julie Hartman, Julie Hartman

Julie Hartman, Julie Hartman

  A Desperate Prequel

  by

  Nicholas Antinozzi

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Nicholas Antinozzi

  Copyright (c) 2010 by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Edited by Coleta Wright

  Cover Design by Steve Peterson

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Julie Hartman was having a bad day. There had been a hard freeze the night before and she slipped on the sidewalk, dumping her coffee and scraping the palms of her hands on the crumbling concrete; she got to her feet and brushed herself off. Julie could see Mike in the window; expressionless, and she remembered thinking that it really was a cold, cold world, after all.

  Two hours later she was back. She had never been let go from any job in her life and she was unsure how to digest the news. It didn’t matter to her that it seemed like everyone was losing their jobs these days; things like this just didn’t happen to her. Six hours early, Julie pulled into the driveway of the rented little home she shared with her boyfriend, Mike Willow, and she felt her heart stop. Mike’s brother, Alan, was over and his blue Suburban was parked in her spot. The Suburban was connected to a moving trailer and the two brothers were loading things into it. Mike saw Julie and his face told the story.

  Alan’s wife, Angie, was also there with her obnoxious black Hummer. The doors were open and she and another woman were loading the television into the back. Julie had paid for half of that flat screen and seeing Angie carelessly shove it into the back of the Hummer was enough to snap Julie out of her stupor. Mike was already headed in her direction, a phony smile plastered on his worried face. Julie slammed the retired police cruiser into park and flung open the door.

  “Julie,” Mike said, holding his arms wide as if he intended to tackle her. “What are you doing home?”

  Of all the things that he might have asked her, this was the worst possible choice. Julie lashed out with her hand and Mike was just barely able to avoid the slap. “What am I doing home?” Julie asked indignantly. “I live here, am I supposed to check in? I lost my job, they closed the shop; you worthless son-of-a-bitch. What the hell are you doing, Mike? What the hell are you doing?” A tear fell from her eye and she angrily brushed it away. Angie and her friend, a curvy little redhead, whom Julie had never met, returned inside the house for another load. Alan was walking over to join them and interrupt this most private of conversations.

  “I’m going to ride things out with Alan and Angie. I’m sorry, Julie, I should have told you.”

  Julie swallowed hard as reality set in. Alan and Angie lived in Rochester, Alan was a doctor at the Mayo and Angie sold insurance. Combined, the couple made more in a month than Mike and Julie made in a year. Angie didn’t like Julie, it had been obvious since the day they’d been introduced, and she’d been after Mike to leave Julie and move down to Rochester for years. It looked as if Angie was finally going to get her wish. Mike, an unemployed carpenter for the past six months, had been spending a lot of his weekends down there doing odd jobs for his brother, picking up some badly needed extra cash. Julie looked at the two Willow brothers and shook her head. “Yeah,” she said. “You might have mentioned it. Where do you think you’re going with the TV? I paid for half of that.”

  Mike and Alan both turned to look at Angie’s Hummer. Alan spoke first. “Let her have it, Mike. We can go get you a new one down at Best Buy. Look Julie, let’s just try to make this easy on everyone, all right?”

  Julie was determined not to let these people see how much she was hurt. She could feel her heart racing and the tears waiting behind her eyes. She gritted her teeth and nodded her head. “I’ll take the television, you can have the computer.”

  Mike looked at her sheepishly and Julie knew that he had already packed the new computer away; another joint purchase of theirs. Julie gave him the eye and watched as Angie and her friend walked down the steps carrying cardboard boxes.

  “Sweetie, there’s been a mistake,” Alan called to his wife. “Could you two bring the television back inside the house? Mike has decided to let Julie keep it.”

  Angie, thirty pounds heavier than she’d been two years ago when she and Julie had first met; shrugged her shoulders and set her box on the wet grass of the lawn. Her friend followed suit and the two were soon carrying the flat screen back up towards the house. Julie couldn’t help but to smile.

  “You see, Julie?” Mike asked. “We can do this the easy way, we don’t have to fight.”

  Julie looked at him and suddenly it all became clear to her. He was right. There had always been something about Mike that wasn’t meant to be. Julie had known it from the beginning; she had just hoped that he’d grow out of it, whatever it was. This was the moment of her epiphany, when she finally realized why Mike would never be the man she had hoped he’d become. Mike Willow was no Jimmy Logan, nor would he ever be. Jimmy was Julie’s first true love, now Julie knew with absolute certainty that he’d been her only true love. Mike had been nothing more than a distraction.

  There was a shriek and a crashing sound soon followed. Angie’s friend was lying on her back in the bushes next to the steps. The television was now only so much broken glass and black plastic. Angie’s friend moaned.

  “Oh, my God,” said Alan. “Mike, grab my black bag out of the Suburban!”

  Julie glared at Angie; she knew it had been no accident. Still, Angie gave an Academy Award worthy performance and Julie instantly knew that no one would believe that she had ruined her television on purpose. Mike fetched his brother’s bag and Dr. Alan charged in to the rescue.

  The fallen woman’s name was Lea and she suffered minor scrapes and bruises, but nothing more. Angie apologized until Julie was sick of hearing it. Alan finally pulled out his wallet and gave Julie six crisp, one hundred dollar bills. “There,” he said. “That ought to cover your loss.”

  Julie took the money from Alan without giving him the chance to reconsider. They had bought the television set for just under five hundred bucks; Julie figured the other hundred would cover her pain and suffering. Mike looked away, which was something that Mike did well. After cleaning up the mess, the moving crew went back to work and Julie plopped herself down on her sofa. The atmosphere was unpleasant and you could cut the tension with a knife. Julie didn’t care, she wasn’t going to make this easy and she certainly wasn’t going to help.

  Angie and Lea continued to work under Mike’s supervision and soon the Hummer was fully loaded. Julie did catch Lea and Mike making eye contact on more than one occasion. They seemed to know each other; at least that’s how it looked to Julie. This knowledge did nothing to improve her mood.

  Julie got up from the sofa and stood at the window. She watched as Angie and Lea said their good-byes; with Angie giving both of the brothers, big phony hugs. The little redhead named Lea stood there and Julie could see that there indeed was something going on between her and Mike. She read it in Mike’s body language. Julie felt her mouth grow dry and she stalked off into the kitchen. She didn’t care that it was still long before noon. She wanted a beer and a shot of tequila. She damn well was going to have one of each, and maybe more than that.

  A few minutes later Mike and Alan walked into the house. Julie was standing in the kitchen, a room that had been left pretty much intact by the movers. She cracked the seal on a new bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold and poured herself half a shot. She then took a beer out of the fridge and twisted off the cap. She downed the shot and chased it with the beer, setting the bottle down on the counter just as Mike and Alan walked into the room.

  “Do you kno
w how bad that is for you?” asked Dr. Alan.

  “Do you really think I give a shit?” Julie replied, holding the cold bottle of Bud to her lips and taking a long, satisfying drink. She then belched, just a little, but a belch just the same. Alan looked horrified. “Did they leave?”

  “Yes,” answered Alan.

  “Good.”

  “Coffee, Alan?” Mike asked.

  “Please.”

  The telephone rang and Mike nearly ran over Julie to answer it. He looked at the caller ID and handed the phone to Julie as if it were a smelly sock. Julie answered the phone. The caller was her old friend, Brenda, a co-worker at Litton Companies. Brenda and Julie were polar opposites, but they had been friends since elementary school