Julie

I first met Julie at a book store while perusing the Fiction - Mystery shelves. Just as I was about to reach for the newest book from my favorite author, someone slipped a paperback into my hand and, with a slightly exotic accent, said, "I'm sure you'll enjoy this much better."

Being somewhat use to people frequently mistaking me for someone who likes to talk with strangers, I politely accepted the book and read the blurb on the back cover. Amazingly, it did indeed sound like the type of mystery book that I enjoy. I looked up to thank her and saw flaxen hair framing laughing green eyes and a mischievous smile. At least, that’s what I had just read under the picture of the author. I looked down at the picture again, then up at Julie, then down, then up. Yep, the author of “Girl’s Don’t Always Play Nice” was standing in front of me. She was drop dead gorgeous and talented, too, if having a book on the New York Times Best Seller’s List is any indication.

We talked for a few minutes and I learned that she had grown up in Australia, but gone to school at Indiana University and fallen in love with the American people. I’m sure the American people fell in love with her, too. She has a way of looking at you when you talk that makes you feel like the center of the universe.

The story should end there, but now comes the “Gee, it’s a small world” part. My friend, Jim, whom I’ve known like forever, wanted me to meet a woman he had met on the golf course where he coaches. He said we had a lot in common. And so he brought Julie back into my life.

We don’t really have any thing in common. She’s beautiful, talented, charming, athletic, forever young – you know, the type other women usually hate. Fortunately, she’s also funny and sensible and has a good personality. Although she looks haute couture, she’s slightly bohemian and a lot wacky. She snorts when she laughs.

When she’s in town, we play Scrabble and talk about books. I ask her about the men in her life, but she just laughs and says, “It’s hard for a goddess to get a date in this town.”

I answer teasingly, “Well, Jules, if you weren’t so conceited, I’d fix you up with a friend of mine. Mike’s dying to meet you.”

She smiles and says, “Maybe, some day”, but she has that sad, far away look in her eyes she gets when she's thinking of Brad. I think Julie murdered him, but that's not something you can easily ask a friend.