Collinwood, September 1971 

“I need to ask you a question, David.”

“Sure, Julia, what is it?”

“I’m trying to remember the name of a song I heard recently. Barnabas says he heard it on a radio station you listen to.  If I hum it, do you think you could tell me what it is?”

“Sure, but I don’t think Cousin Barnabas should be listening to the same radio station as me.”

“Why not?  He enjoys all kinds of different music.  I’ve even got him listening to the Beatles.”

“Well, it’s not the music so much, it’s the DJ.  Barnabas really freaked out when he heard the guy’s name.  It was weird.”

“The DJ?  Why on earth would he care what the disc jockey’s name was?”

“I dunno, but when he heard the guy say his name was Wolfman Jack, he almost drove off the road.”

“Oh, you know how old fashioned and formal Barnabas can be,” she said, stifling a laugh.  “Now, let me see if I can get this tune right.”  She proceeded to hum several bars of the song Barnabas had been singing so mysteriously, then looked at David expectantly.

“Yeah, I know it,” the boy answered in a disgusted tone. “It’s by one of those bubble-gummers.  It’s called ‘Julie, Do you Love Me?’”

Immediately realizing what he had just said, the two of them looked at each other in embarrassed silence.  “Umm, I gotta go, Julia,” David finally mumbled before bounding up the stairs two at a time.

Julia stood alone in the foyer feeling a little overwhelmed. Barnabas had been so understanding about her reticence regarding their evolving relationship.  Rather than constantly telling her of his love, he had opted to show her his feelings through his actions, just as she had done for him in the past.  She now remembered Bobby Sherman’s song and was deeply moved by Barnabas’ playfulness in humming it around her last night.  She crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly as she sang the words in her head:

“Julie, Julie, Julie, do you love me?
Julie, Julie, Julie, do you care?
Julie, Julie, are you thinking of me?
Julie, Julie, will you still be there?”

“Oh yes, Barnabas,” she sighed to herself as she leaned against the newel post.  “I love you.  And I’ll always be there.”

***

            Barnabas stood before the fireplace, his eyes closed, reflecting on the evening he had planned.  Willie had his instructions, and Barnabas trusted his friend to carry them out to the letter.  Now he just had to find the patience to wait until it was time to pick Julia up at Collinwood.

He glanced back over at the album he had laid on the table next to the record player.  Somewhere, someday – it seemed that he and Julia had finally found what had eluded them for so long.  The words of what he thought of as his epiphany song still echoed off of the ancient walls of his home even though the record was now safely tucked back in its jacket.

He pondered the first kiss he and Julia had shared a week ago.  That kiss had been a watershed moment for them, the moment when Julia had let him know that she was prepared for their relationship to move forward in earnest.  The kisses  - and a little more – had continued since then.  Each time they were together, their passion escalated, and both knew that they were reaching the boiling point. 

He was ready for a significant change in their relationship, and he believed that Julia was, too.  The question he had been grappling with was how to best proceed.  Julia deserved something extremely special and romantic, and he intended to make her happy.  As fortune would have it, he suddenly remembered a conversation Julia had once had with Sebastian Shaw.  Shaw had been trying to “read” her, and she had grudgingly admitted to him that she was a Virgo.  Consulting the zodiac charts, Barnabas discovered that Julia’s birthday must be between mid-August and mid-September.  With a little snooping from a conspiratorial Liz, he had learned that today was the anniversary of Julia’s birth.  The timing could not have been more perfect;  today was going to be their “someday”.

And as he checked the mantle clock for the umpteenth time, he found himself humming another tune that had come to have a special meaning for them:

“Tonight, tonight
I'll see my love tonight
And for us stars will stop
Where they are.”            

***

He had told her only that he wanted to take her out for a special evening and to dress accordingly.  No mention had been made of her birthday.  He had arrived early, feeling like an anxious schoolboy, and Carolyn had greeted him at the door to Collinwood with a rather lascivious grin.

“I’ll let Julia know that you’re here, Barnabas,” she said with a broad wink before disappearing quickly up the stairs.

He wandered a little aimlessly around the foyer surprised by the queasiness in his stomach.  He had felt perfectly fine since he and Julia had reconciled, but the pesky little creature that had bothered him before seemed to be stirring again.  He was hoping that tonight would signal a momentous change in his life, but he hadn’t expected to be this nervous.

Glancing up, he felt his heart still in his chest.  Julia stood at the top of the stairs looking positively regal in a close fitting dress of deep indigo silk that accentuated her lithe figure.  The dress was sleeveless, and its deeply cut square neckline highlighted her graceful neck.  She wore a large sapphire teardrop on a delicate gold chain against her creamy skin, and matching sapphire earrings dangled gracefully from her ears.  The dress reached to mid-calf which would have disappointed him but for the long slit that extended downward from the top of her thigh, giving him an excellent view of her lovely leg.

Julia watched as his eyes roamed over her body and smiled at the confounded expression on his face.  His mouth literally hung open in surprise at her appearance, and she felt a pleasant rush of warmth travel from her head to her toes.

“Hello, Barnabas,” she said in the most sultry voice she could summon.

“Julia,” he finally managed as she slowly descended the stairs.  “You look positively radiant tonight.  That dress is…” he searched for an adequate word and could find none, “stunning.”

“Thank you.” 

She stepped down into his waiting arms. “Happy Birthday, Julia,” he said before gathering her in for a breathtaking kiss. “How…?”  She was astonished that he knew it was her birthday.  She could not remember ever having shared that information with anyone at Collinwood.

“Oh, perhaps a little cricket told me…”               

“A little cricket…?  Willie?  But he had no idea-”

“I only said ‘perhaps’, my dear.  It makes little difference how I know.  What matters is that it is indeed your birthday, and we are going to properly celebrate it this year.”  He placed her wrap around her shoulders, stopping a moment to let his hands linger against her smooth skin.  “Shall we go?”

****

The restaurant he had chosen was the most elegant one he could locate within seventy-five miles of Collinsport.  He enjoyed the look of awe on Julia’s face as he drove up the circular drive and she saw their destination for the first time.  It was a grand old mansion that had been converted from a private dwelling into a restaurant.  Tiny white lights twinkled in the bushes and trees in front of the building lending a fairy-like atmosphere to the former estate.

“Barnabas, what a beautiful place!  What is it called?”

“Grayson Hall.  Before it was sold, it was the home of Samuel Grayson, a very wealthy industrialist, and his wife, Shirley.  I’ve heard she was an actress, a red-haired beauty, in fact.”

“Shirley Grayson?  Never heard of her.”

“I’m told she had a few film roles but that she was primarily a stage actress.  And a very talented one at that.”

Her face continued to glow with anticipation as they entered the two-story foyer.  Softly lit crystal chandeliers hung from the mahogany beamed ceilings, their light magnified by enormous gilt-edged mirrors that lined the walls.  A magnificent oak stairway that led to the second floor curled down to their right.  And Julia was delighted to hear the strains of an orchestra playing a Mancini tune somewhere in the far reaches of the restaurant.

“However did you find this place, Barnabas?” she asked as they waited to be shown to their table.

“Would you believe me if I told you a little cricket told me about it?”

“Probably not.  Well, I don’t care how you found out about it.  It is incredible.  I haven’t been anywhere this exquisite in a long, long time.”

“Then it is way overdue, Julia.  You deserve to be feted like this often.  It suits you.”

She gave him an appreciative glance; he looked exceptionally handsome in a gray pinstripe suit, and she was proud to be on his arm. “It suits you, too.”

Julia audibly gasped when they were led into the main dining room.  It was a cavernous room that seemed to be all crystal and brass. A small orchestra was situated next to a parquet dance floor, and she couldn’t help but smirk as the singer crooned out his version of “Charade”.  Each table was adorned with lit candles and bud vases of red roses surrounded by a cloud of baby’s breath.  As they approached their table, she could see that a bottle of chilled champagne was ready and waiting for them.

The meal was superb; Julia could not recall a meal she had had in the last ten years that could rival it.  And she was certainly enjoying the attention she was receiving from her dinner companion.  He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her all evening, and she sensed that he had something very important on his mind.

“Julia, would you dance with me this evening?”  His smile was hopeful and completely irresistible.

“Yes, Barnabas, I would love to dance with you tonight.”

He led her out onto the dance floor and gathered her into his arms.  She could feel the contours of his lean but firm body as he held her close to him which only served to stoke the fires each had been tending for the other.  They had kissed and held each other before this, but there was something fundamentally different about dancing together, something sensual about moving together to the beat and rhythm of the music.  And there were other things about being with him like this that were so special to her, things that no one but the two of them would understand or appreciate.  The warmth of his skin, the beat of his strong heart, the sound of his gentle breathing – normal functions that had become precious to them because he had “lived” without them for so many years.

They danced silently, lost in their own thoughts, aware only of the feel of each other and the words to “If Ever I Would Leave You.” After a few minutes, Barnabas pulled back slightly to look down into her peaceful face.

“Julia, do you remember in San Francisco when you and your friend called each other by those names?”

“You mean ‘Schmoopy’?” she asked, grinning up at him slightly.

“Yes.”

“As I recall, you weren’t very happy about that.”

“Well, at the time, I thought the two of you were…”

“Lovers.”            

“Yes,” he answered with distaste, remembering the scene in the hotel restaurant.  “I thought they were your pet names for each other.  And when I heard you use them, I realized I wanted very much for us to have special endearments for each other, something that was just between the two of us. I still do.”

She gazed into his soulful eyes; he never ceased to amaze her.  He would never understand how precious these confessions of his were to her.  “I would like that very much, Barnabas.”  Cocking her head playfully, she continued, “There is a movie starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy in which they call each other ‘Pinky’ – spelled with a ‘y’ for him and ‘ie’ for her…”

The expression on his face was horrified, and she had to laugh.  “What names did you have in mind, Barnabas?”

“I have given this some thought, Julia, and wondered what would be appropriate.  I thought about how often you had saved me, sometimes even from myself, and all the years you guarded and protected me.  You were my angel, Julia.  I think that that is what I would like to call you – Angel.”

She was completely overwhelmed.  He was pouring his heart out to her and being incredibly adorable in the process.  There were no words adequate to express herself, and so she silently placed her head against his shoulder, her eyes glistening with tears.

Barnabas was pleased by her reaction to his choice.  Turning playful himself, he asked, “And you, Julia?  What endearment would you use for me?”

“A much nicer one than I would have used a few months ago, Barnabas,” she said, raising her head and laughing.  “Hmm, I suppose I could call you Pinocchio.” 

He noted the twinkle in her eye.  “That’s better than ‘Woodenhead’, I suppose,” he said with a mock frown.

He was pleased when she laughed again; he loved the sound of her throaty laugh and wanted only to make her laugh and smile for the rest of their days.

“I can’t really imagine calling you ‘honey bear’ or ‘bunnykins’ or anything like that.” 

The horrified look had returned to his face, and she decided to stop teasing him.  “Barnabas, I don’t think you realize what you have done for me.  You have saved and protected me, too.  But you did something else as well.  I’m sure you remember the person I was when I arrived at Collinwood.  As I recall, you called me ‘a meddlesome and domineering woman.’”

“Julia-” he began apologetically.

“It’s all right, Barnabas.  I was those things.  I had become a cold woman totally absorbed in my work.  You helped me find my humanity, my compassion again; you helped me rediscover the reasons I became a doctor in the first place.”

It was his turn to be overwhelmed.  He had had no idea she felt this way.

“So, you see, you have been my angel, too.”  She reached up to tenderly stroke his cheek.  “And I would love to call you Angel as well.”

They fell silent again for a moment as the orchestra segued into the next song. Barnabas tightened his hold on her and to her surprise, began to sing some of the words very softly:

“Sometimes in the evening, when you do not see,
I study the small things, you do constantly,
I memorize moments, that I'm fondest of,
My cup runneth over with love . . .  

In only a moment, we both will be old,
We won't even notice the world turning cold.
And so, in this moment, with sunlight above, My cup runneth over with love . . .”

(Music by Harvey Schmidt and lyrics by Tom Jones)

Julia bit her lip and buried her head against his shoulder once more.  If he kept this up, she would look like a raccoon with rings of black mascara around her eyes by the time they finished dancing.  She wondered briefly if he had surreptitiously arranged to have “Somewhere” played for them and was just a little disappointed when the orchestra took a break at the end of “My Cup Runneth Over,” and they returned to their table.

They left the restaurant and walked to his car arm in arm under a starry night sky that glittered like a spray of diamonds on black velvet.

“I have an answer to your question, Barnabas,” she said enigmatically.

“My question?”  He was a little startled; was she reading his mind?  Did she know-?

“Yes, the musical question you were asking me the other night.”

He was now thoroughly confused.  “Julia, I’m afraid I don’t understand…”

They had reached the car, and she stood with her hands on her hips.

“Barnabas Collins, the other night, were you or were you not humming a song called ‘Julie, Do You Love Me?’”

Ah, so she had figured him out.  “Yes, Julia, I was.”

“Well, I have an answer for you.”  She pinned him up against the car, pressing her body next to his.  “Yes, I love you.  Yes, I care. I am always thinking of you, and I will always be there.”

“Oh, Julia,” he moaned before she silenced him with a soft kiss.  He hadn’t expected this of her.  She had been cautious for weeks and even a bit shy, and now between the dress and her words and her kiss, he was ready to take her right here in the parking lot.

“I rather like this communication through song that we have established, Barnabas,” she breathed when she at last released his lips.

“So do I, Julia, very much.  Just as long as we stay away from songs by The Supremes.”

Part Seventeen