by Nancybe

The smell of fine French cuisine wafted through the dimly lit restaurant. Despite the full house in attendance at the elegant establishment, diners would describe the atmosphere as intimate as hushed conversations took place across the votive candles that burned softly at every table. The handsome middle-aged couple seated by the bay window gazed at each other with starry eyes and contented expressions on their intent faces. No one in that room could ever guess how much a simple, peaceful meal meant to the two people who had rarely had time to relax in over four nightmarish years.

Barnabas and Julia’s relationship had begun to evolve since the night Julia had found him and, for all intents and purposes, rescued him on the beach. Although each sensed great passion lying very near the surface in the other one, neither man nor woman had allowed those emotions to rise to the surface to take their first breath. Julia, as a healer of the mind, intellectually believed that this approach was wisest for both of them. As a woman deeply in love, she found this incremental strategy frustrating, yet she was still able to recognize the need to proceed in this manner. Barnabas was recovering from a deep depression initiated by his grief for the final death of the life he had been born to live out in the 18th century. In a strange sense, he was actually mourning his own death. He had made remarkable progress, but Julia wanted to allow him the time he needed to truly get on his feet again before they committed themselves to each other body, mind and soul. She also had a tremendous need for them both to believe without a doubt that Barnabas' feelings for her were genuine and not just the result of his traumatic experiences.

Consequently, the two of them had pursued their burgeoning relationship at what sometimes seemed to both of them to be a snail’s pace. On the one hand, Julia would have loved to have pounced on Barnabas to fulfill all of the dreams she had woven so painstakingly throughout the years. But on the other hand, she was content for them to find their way to each other gradually for this approach was very exciting in its own way.

Their "dates" made her feel young again as she waited anxiously for him to ask her out, to call on her at Collinwood, to call her on the phone. It reminded her of high school days when she would stare at the telephone for hours on end willing the wretched instrument to come to life.

She was vaguely aware of Frank Sinatra’s velvety voice crooning "Summer Wind" at the edge of in her consciousness as she glanced through the rain-streaked pane into the blackness beyond. She jumped slightly when she felt Barnabas’ gentle hand squeeze hers in an affectionate grip. His touch brought her back to the here and now, and she smiled guiltily at his beloved face across the table.

"Where were you just now, my dearest? You left me for a moment." His voice was so sensual that she had to bite her lip to keep from shivering at the sound of it. The worst part was that this was his natural manner; he was so damn sexy without even trying.

"I’m sorry, Barnabas. I didn’t mean to drift off on you. It’s just that I can’t seem to stop thinking about –" she stopped, unwilling to even put to words the thoughts that had distracted her this evening.

"You can’t stop thinking about your sister, is that it?" he finished for her.

She nodded her head with a slight grimace. "Do you want to talk about it, Julia? I have the sense that something is amiss between you and Joyce. And since you have never mentioned her before, I gather that the two of you have been at odds for some tine now. Would it help to share this with me? It saddens me to see you so troubled." He tightened his hold on her hand, and she realized again the tremendous strength that this man possessed. It thrilled her now as it once had terrified her. She looked forward to the day when she would be the full recipient of all that this man held inside himself.

Julia was also struck by how far they had come in the years they had known each other. So often, he had been the source of all that troubled her. Now, he wanted to be the instrument that removed her pain. "You are very perceptive, Barnabas. Joyce and I have always had a volatile relationship. It is often that way with siblings even when they reach adulthood. Childhood patterns seem to be hard to modify." God, she sounded like a psychiatrist! Why was she talking this way, and to Barnabas? But she knew why. It was easier to deal with her pain by putting it into clinical terms, terms that she was comfortable with, that helped her keep the hurt at a distance. Well, she was going to stop this right now.

She realized just how detached she must have sounded by the quizzical look on her dinner partner’s face. He had noticed her reliance on her professional knowledge and that was dangerous because it might lead him to the truth about her relationship with her half-sister. And the truth was ugly. Julia didn’t want to ruin her cherished time with Barnabas by thinking or talking about her ne’er-do-well sibling. She also did not want to share the entire truth with him now or maybe ever. To do so would force her to re-live painful memories, some as painful as the memories she had forged with the man who sat opposite her. It was a path she had no desire to traverse again. Julia felt that she had known more than her share of grief and loss and tragedy, and she had been scarred by life long before she had ever met Barnabas Collins.

"Tell me about her, Julia," he prodded. "I want to know more about you, and maybe it will help to talk about it. At least," he stopped and grinned at her, "that is what a very wise, very beautiful psychiatrist I know has told me for years."

She smiled warmly at him. "I hate it when you throw my profession back in my face. But, alright, I will tell you about Joyce Hoffman Whatever-Her-Name-Is-Now." She leaned back in her chair with a little sigh. "I was the only daughter of Dr. Robinson Hoffman, who was a noted cardiologist, and Elizabeth Hoffman, who was a professor of history. Obviously, my family was extremely well educated, even the women, which was fairly unusual for the times. So it wasn’t that unheard of for me to decide to go to medical school. Anyway, my mother died when I was ten from a very rare, very insidious blood disease called aplastic anemia. It was then, and continues to this day, to be almost universally fatal. Her diagnosis is one reason I chose to become a hematologist, and of course, in a strange way, that is what led me to you." She stopped to give him a slight smile as the strangeness of fate dawned on both of them.

"It was difficult for my father to raise me alone especially with his schedule as a physician. He naturally relied heavily on his secretary for a great many things, and they became very close. She was a younger woman whose name was Jacqueline. He married her when I was twelve. Unlike in fairytales, I got along well with my stepmother, and she cared for me as well. We had known each other for a long time before they got married. A few years later, Jacqueline and my father had a baby girl, Joyce. Unfortunately, Jacqueline was killed when Joyce was still very young." Julia’s voice had gotten very soft, and her words were almost inaudible to the man who was listening to her so intently.

He renewed his grip on her hand. "What happened, Julia?"

"I was a teenager, just learning to drive. Jackie was in the car with me when we were struck by a drunk driver. She was killed instantly. I was not seriously injured." She paused while she collected herself. How long had it been since she had related this horror story to anyone? She couldn’t remember the last time she had recounted this experience out loud.

"My God, Julia! That must have been horrible for you!" His handsome face was creased with concern for her, and it touched her deeply to see it despite the pain this conversation was dredging up in her.

"The police ruled that I was not responsible for the accident, but I’m afraid that Joyce has always blamed me for the loss of her mother, nevertheless. The incident has colored our relationship ever since." She paused to collect her thoughts before continuing with a small sigh. "Her care really fell to me until I went away to college. She has always resented that – thought of me as the bossy older sister, you know. When my father died, Joyce was still a minor. I was still in school so although I became responsible for her, she had to live with an aunt until she was eighteen. It was – difficult," she ended, and Barnabas had an inkling that she was understating just how difficult it had truly been.

"And all of this led to your estrangement from her, Julia?"

"Well, it was a part of it. Joyce has led an – interesting - life, you might say. She has been married three times –"

"Three times! But she can’t be old enough – "

Julia frowned. So Barnabas had taken enough notice of her sister to give some thought to her age. She had never known a man who hadn’t looked twice at Joyce. She was truly stunning.

"You’re right, Barnabas. She’s only thirty, but she has made rather a career of marrying and divorcing rich, older men." She shook her head sadly. "I really tried to be close to her. It just never worked out. It finally became easier not to have any contact with her at all." Unshed tears shimmered brightly in her eyes. Joyce was the only immediate family she had, and since she had never had her own family, it was with great regret that she had discontinued contact with her sister. But for reasons she was not revealing to Barnabas, it had become absolutely necessary.

The truth was that life with Joyce had been absolute hell. She had been a troubled child, and she had truly resented Julia’s presence and role in her life. As a small girl, she had lied to their father about Julia to get her into trouble. Julia had accepted her father’s anger when these incidents happened because she did not want to cause him any more pain. It was easier to protect Joyce than to tell Robinson Hoffman that his tiny, darling daughter was a habitual liar. Julia had also secretly hoped and prayed that her little sister would outgrow these habits, and so she tried her best to be understanding. The girl had had her mother taken from her afterall. But as the years went on, Joyce Hoffman’s behavior became increasingly destructive. She stole from her older sister and continued to lie about her even to Julia’s friends. Joyce had even scared off more than one of Julia’s boyfriends.

The real problems began after their father had died. Joyce and Julia’s aunt was not able to control Joyce, and recognizing this, the young girl had shamelessly exploited her aunt’s generosity and goodwill. She was promiscuous and constantly in trouble at school. As she grew to young adulthood, the problems continued to escalate. Uninterested in finishing college, Joyce fell in with what Julia would describe as a "fast" crowd. Before long, it was evident that she had a borderline gambling addiction. If she could stay away from Las Vegas and similar environments, she could control herself, but if, in her many travels, she found herself where gambling was readily available, she was unable to stop. She rapidly squandered the considerable inheritance left to her by her father. When her debts grew dangerously high, she would "look up" her dear sister, Julia, and beg her for money or "Something terrible will happen to me." Julia helped her as much as she could, and made numerous attempts to get Joyce help for her addiction, but Joyce resisted her at every turn. The times that Julia had refused to give her money, Joyce had found ways to steal it from her older sister without a qualm.

After several years of this lifestyle, Joyce finally found her talent in life. She was irresistible to men, and she knew how to exploit their attraction to her. She found that men were taken in by her beauty and charm, especially the older ones whom she could endlessly flatter and whose egos she could effortlessly stroke. She would then marry them and make their lives miserable until they gladly paid enormous sums to be rid of her. In general, this strategy had been fairly successful for her, providing her with the income necessary for her to support the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed. But then she would find herself gambling again, her funds depleted, and she would set off once again on the hunt: for dear sister Julia and for the next Mr. Joyce Hoffman.

This, at least, was the truth as far as Julia Hoffman knew it. Julia, however, was unaware of the depth of her sister’s resentment toward her. Joyce’s feelings went far beyond just sibling rivalry or holding a grudge. The truth was that Joyce HATED her older sister. She did indeed blame her for her mother’s death. Julia had been driving the car, in Joyce’s view, and should have been able to somehow prevent the accident that had claimed Jacqueline’s life. The young woman believed that her life had been downhill from there, and that it was all Julia’s fault. Julia had taken care of her when she was small and had acted as if she were Joyce’s mother. She had bossed her around when she was really only her half-sister, and then, despite playing at being at her mother, she had abandoned Joyce to go off to medical school. She felt as if she had lost her mother twice. After her father had died, she had been abandoned yet again and forced to live with horrible Aunt Alice. Julia hadn’t wanted her; she was too busy becoming a doctor. A doctor! What business did she have becoming a doctor when that was a man’s profession? She thought she was so smart!

Joyce had always been jealous of Julia’s intelligence. Julia effortlessly earned straight A’s in school while Joyce struggled to get C’s. Julia was considered to be brilliant in medical school, and Joyce resented every kudo that Julia received. But she had what Julia did not: beauty. Joyce was a more perfect version of Julia, and the young woman was well aware of it. It was true that Julia was attractive, but it seemed as if every flaw in Julia’s appearance had been perfected in Joyce. They looked very much alike, but the younger sister was gorgeous whereas Julia was just a good-looking woman. Joyce reveled in these differences, and imagined Julia turning green with envy at the mere thought of her sister’s physical charms. She decided to use her beauty to get what she wanted in life, and to show Julia that she too could be successful and without the benefit of a medical degree.

Joyce was determined never to love her sister and to make Julia pay for what she had done to her. She wanted to make Julia sorry for ruining her life and leaving her behind, and she was willing to do whatever it took to accomplish this objective.

Julia’s mind swam back to the present when she heard Andy William’s voice begin to warble a theme song from a popular television show. He was seductively singing something about "shadows of the night" and for some odd reason, this song always made her think of Quentin.

"I was doing it again, wasn’t I?" she asked Barnabas apologetically.

Barnabas nodded with a slight smile. He pushed back his chair and stood up, holding out his hand to her. "Dance with me?" he asked with his little boy expression on his face.

Julia happily took his proffered hand and let him lead her to the dance floor. She relaxed as he gathered her to him for an intimate dance. It felt so right to be in his arms, to press her head against his broad chest and to inhale the scent of him. He skillfully led her across the floor in perfect time to the music, and Julia remembered that he was from an era and class when these social graces were an essential component of life. At this moment, being so close to him, the secret that they shared seemed sensual and erotic despite the horror it had meant for him for so long. Barnabas brushed a soft kiss against her forehead, and she was overwhelmed by the feel of his warmth against her after what had seemed like an eternity of coldness, both physical and emotional, from him.

Barnabas, too, was enjoying the sensations of holding Julia, of feeling her body pressed tightly against his. He was struggling not to picture her in his bed as he listened to the music flow over them in waves. Her perfume was igniting his desire, as was the sweet taste of her on his lips. He knew that their unspoken covenant to proceed slowly was a wise one, but at this moment, he wanted only to take her back to the Old

House, get rid of Willie, and –

"What is it, Julia?" he asked with concern as he felt her tense in his arms.

"I’m sorry, Barnabas," she whispered. "It’s nothing." She forced herself to relax in his arms once again. She just could not keep her mind off of her sister. What was she going to do about her? She silently berated herself for continuing to dwell on this when she should be concentrating on Barnabas. I am going to do whatever it takes to get rid of her, she decided. If she wants money, I’ll give it to her just as long as she leaves me alone.

Julia smiled to herself, relieved to have found a solution to her problem. She snuggled closer to Barnabas and lost herself in the lyrics Andy was making his own, unaware of the irony of their meaning to her own life.

"Echoes of the past, calling you to me."

MORE TO COME.

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