Spring/Summer 1971     
 


"Another letter from San Francisco?" Carolyn Stoddard picked up the long white envelope from the foyer table and peered curiously at the spidery black handwriting. "This is the third one in as many days!"

Barnabas stood beside his young cousin surreptitiously trying to read the return address on the letter. "And who is it who is receiving all of this mail from California?" he asked as innocently as he could.

"Why, Julia of course, ever since she returned from her trip." The pretty blonde tossed the letter back onto the table. "And all from a Dr. S. Stephens, too. Hmmm, I wonder what this is all about?"

Collins didn't like the speculative gleam in Carolyn's bright blue eyes or the little tilt of her head. Nor was he happy to hear that yet another letter had arrived for Julia from the mysterious Dr. Stephens.

He'd been to Collinwood every day since his dinner with Julia. He had promised his cousins that he would be more sociable so he had made an effort to drop by for a drink or dinner each day. He had even come across a book on 19th century quilting which he had thought Elizabeth would be interested in and had brought it to Collinwood right away. Elizabeth had been a little surprised - she did not remember ever expressing an interest in quilting to Barnabas - but she had accepted his offering with her usual grace.

Julia had not been at home during any of his many visits. When he had casually asked after her, he had been told that she was busy preparing her presentation for the symposium she would soon be attending. Two days ago, he had noticed a letter waiting for her and had been surprised to read the return address. She had just seen her friend Stevie - why was he writing to her so soon? And as he had arrived today at Collinwood, he had learned from Carolyn that two more letters from California had been delivered to Julia.

Barnabas himself had come from an age when letters had been a much more common form of communication than was true today, but he thought that even in his day, three letters in a row - immediately following a visit- would have been excessive. Men were usually not so loquacious; unless, of course, they were acting as a suitor -

His thoughts were interrupted by a gust of wind that was strong enough to scatter the various pieces of mail that had been piled on the hall table. Barnabas looked over to the front door of the mansion where a rather windswept Julia Hoffman stood, her arms juggling several books and her purse, tossing her head back to rid her eyes of several strands of errant red hair.

"Oh, hello, Carolyn, Barnabas. Rather a blustery day as Winnie the Pooh would say."

Barnabas Collins found himself unable to utter a single sound. He had not seen Julia since the night of their dinner together, since the night his overactive mind had conjured an image of his friend cavorting at Mardi Gras. That image was his first thought now as he saw Julia standing in the doorway, and the vision was only accentuated by the way she had shaken back her fiery hair. He stood staring at her for a long moment as Julia and Carolyn exchanged looks of concern.

"Barnabas, are you all right?"

When he realized Julia was speaking to him, he felt a blush begin to warm his skin from head to toe for he could not rid his mind of the picture of her with her blouse opened, her husky laugh ringing out, and all those beads..

He swallowed loudly and quickly pasted a smile on his now rosy face. "Yes, Julia, I am quite well. How are you?"

"Exhausted, as a matter of fact. I could use a nap."

"Well, this should cheer you up, Julia." Carolyn held the letter out to her with a grin.

Barnabas watched as Julia's tired expression softened into a pleased smile. "Oh that Stevie, so persistent," she said as she turned the envelope over in her hands.

"Julia," Carolyn began in a voice as smooth as honey. "Just what is the story with this Dr. Stephens?"

The doctor gave the young woman an enigmatic smile while casting a sidelong glance at Barnabas; he was studying her as if she were a bug under a microscope.

"Just an old friend, Carolyn." She gave the blonde an uncharacteristic wink, stuffed the letter into her purse, and started up the stairs. "Now if you will both excuse me," she called down over her shoulder, "I must go to my room."

"More than just a friend, if you ask me," Carolyn whispered to her cousin, echoing her uncle's earlier words.

Barnabas' flushed cheeks had paled to a sickly green color. "Do you have anything for an upset stomach, Carolyn?" he asked with a groan. "I don't seem to be feeling very well."

******

As the budding spring blossomed into a sweet summer, Barnabas Collins' life changed very little. Julia returned from New Orleans (sporting no beads, to Barnabas' great relief) but was soon gone again to Washington D.C. and then to New York. He had lost count of the cities she had traveled to this year, yet he could count on one hand the occasions on which they had really spent any time together. When he did manage to see her, she spoke little of her trips and conferences beyond saying that things had gone well.

His intense interest in renovating the Old House gradually waned until he was content to proceed at a more leisurely pace, and Willie complained that he had resumed his "mopin' around" the house.

Before long, it was Willie who once again prodded him to action.

"Barnabas, I'm tired of trippin'over ya! Ya gotta find somethin' to do
with yourself!"

As loathe as he was to admit it, Willie was right, and Barnabas began to give his new life's direction a great deal of thought. What he had been trained to do as a young man had little bearing in this century, and he did not see himself working alongside Roger in the family business. What was he interested in? With what did he feel comfortable?

He realized that despite his efforts to leave the past behind him, he still felt the pull of his own century. He could still see in his mind's eye the simpler life he had led - a life when the world was full of less noise, when the smells in the air were more intense and pleasant, when food tasted pure and good and fresh. His century had been alive with the promise of a new nation, with the excitement of a new way of being governed.

His memories and feelings did not seem two hundred years in the past to him but only a few years old, and he wanted to talk about the world he had known and loved. He wanted to share what he knew about the fledgling United States of America. He wanted to teach others about what it had been like before telephones and electricity, before television and automobiles. He wanted to teach others about a life that proceeded at a more leisurely pace, about a life that centered on one's family. He wanted to teach -

He wanted to teach.

He wanted to teach 18th century American history, to teach it as it had never been taught before.

Because he had been there. He had lived it.

His decision excited him, and before long, he had enrolled in a college program to become a history professor. It wasn't going to happen overnight, and he was much older than the other students (much, much older), but he now had a goal to work toward. He was very anxious to share his news with Julia. He knew she would be happy for him - if she ever stood still long enough for him to see her and to tell her.

********

Barnabas Collins was not the only friend of Julia Hoffman's that had been feeling neglected. Eliot Stokes had finally cornered his doctor friend between medical conferences and had twisted her arm into agreeing to dinner at his house once she had returned from her latest trip. Stokes had enlisted Barnabas' aid in pressuring Julia to keep their dinner date, which they had set for the evening after Julia returned from Chicago.

And so the three friends gathered around the professor's oak dining table one summer evening catching up on each other's lives. Eliot had surprised them with his culinary prowess having prepared an excellent shepherd's pie accompanied by a crisp green salad. He had also baked for them, and the soothing smell of fresh bread permeated the air.

Following warm apple pie a la mode (also admirably made by the multi-talented Stokes), they retired to the cottage's comfortable living room.

"Barnabas, I think your plan to teach history is wonderful." Julia settled wearily back into the soft cushions of a large leather chair and crossed her legs. She cradled a cup of steaming tea in both hands to warm them on this uncharacteristically cool summer night.

"I quite agree, Barnabas. And you know I will be happy to provide any assistance I can."

"Thank you, Eliot, I may need your help in this endeavor. And I was hoping you would approve, Julia. I would have liked your input while I was pondering this decision, but you weren't in town at the time."

He hadn't meant to sound as if he were scolding her, but the jump of her eyebrows told him she had taken his words the wrong way. "I'm sorry, Barnabas. I have little control over the dates when I must be away."

Ever the gracious host, Eliot chimed in to soothe the feathers that were beginning to ruffle. "So your trip to Chicago was a success then?" he asked, picking up on the conversation they had been having at the dinner table.

"Oh yes, it was very interesting, Eliot. Really some groundbreaking work being done in psychiatry."

"Did you say it was at the University of Chicago, Julia?"

"Yes, it was. It's a lovely time of year to be in Chicago. I'm glad the conference wasn't in January or February," she chuckled.

"Did you have a chance to visit the Museum of Science and Industry while you were there?"

"Yes, we did. They have the most fascinating exhibits. I only wish we had had more time to spend there."

Barnabas, who had little knowledge of Chicago and who had overindulged on his friend's fine cooking, had been close to dozing in his chair until he had heard Julia use the plural pronoun "we". This was the first he had heard that she had not been alone in the Windy City, and he sat up a little straighter as he listened to the conversation.

"Then Dr. Stephens was able to attend after all?" Stokes was asking.

Collins felt the large portion of shepherd's pie he had eaten begin to congeal in his stomach as he waited for Julia's answer.

"Why yes, I was thrilled that Stevie was able to make it. We had a wonderful time."

"And when do you leave again for San Francisco? I hope you have given yourself adequate time to recover from this last trip. You do look rather tired, Julia."

San Francisco? She was going back to San Francisco? That city's name pounded into Barnabas' head like someone beating on a bass drum. She hadn't told him she was leaving again, or that she was returning to California. How did Eliot know more about her life, about her schedule, than he himself did?

The doctor gave Stokes a slightly annoyed glance, and he shrugged his shoulders in an apology. "I leave tomorrow, actually. I'll just have to get some sleep on the plane." She turned to Barnabas whose color had suddenly turned ashen. "I'm sorry, Barnabas, I hadn't had a chance to tell you that I was leaving again so soon. A hectic spring has turned into just as hectic of a summer."

He just nodded at her, his fingers clenched tightly in his lap. He began to rise from his chair but then just as quickly sank back down again. Julia was at his side in the next moment, one hand on his forehead, the other on his wrist.

"Barnabas, your skin is clammy, you're sweating, and your pulse is rapid. Have you been feeling ill?"

He opened his mouth to answer her, but all that came out at first was a moan. "It hurts - here," he managed to mumble as he pointed to his abdomen.

"My goodness, Barnabas, I hope I haven't managed to poison you," Stokes said, only half-joking.

" I think it's just a mild stomach upset, Eliot, but I do think I should take him home. I'm sorry to have to cut our evening short."

"That's quite all right, Julia. He does look rather peaked, doesn't he? Let me give you a hand, old fellow."

Collins waved his friend off as he stood and tried to gather his dignity. "Thank you, Eliot, but I can make it on my own."

As Barnabas headed out to his car, Stokes stopped Julia at the door. "I'm sorry, Julia, I didn't realize you hadn't told him yet," he said in a deep whisper.

"I didn't have the chance to - or the energy."

He gave her an understanding smile before closing the door on the chorus of sounds that serenaded the summer night.

********

Julia insisted on settling Barnabas in the passenger seat of his car and driving him home, telling him that Willie could easily pick the vehicle up at Collinwood in the morning.

She looked over at him as she shifted the car into gear. He looked so pathetic huddled back against the rich leather seat. She sighed deeply as she waited for him to speak.

"Julia, why are you going back to San Francisco?" he finally croaked.

She glanced over at him again through the darkness. "I've been offered a position there, Barnabas, at a university. A very prestigious position."

She paused and turned her attention back to the winding road, gathering her courage before she spoke again.

"And I am seriously considering accepting it."

Part Seven