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Of course, the first test would be to convince her perfect sister, Amy, of all of that when she got into her car to head over to the house, but maybe that would give Julie the chance to work out a few kinks in her story.
So, tucking the pack of cigarettes into her satchel, she braced herself as the train slowed again and she joined the other three people ambling down the steps to the Honeybrook platform. After a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen her makeup and ensure the wear of her morning wasn't etched all over her face, she headed down the little grassy hill and into the parking lot.
Instead of her sister's shiny Mercedes, though, she found her brother's ancient blue pick-up truck parked on the corner.
"Well, if it isn't the family Jules." Luke grinned, though in truth he was looking just about as worn for wear as the truck itself. His blonde facial hair was shaggy and overgrown, and the mop of blonde hair on his head stuck out in all directions. If he hadn't still had those ice chip-blue eyes, she might not have recognized him.
"Haha." She rolled her eyes. "You been sitting here thinking that up?"
"You know me. Now hop in."
She tossed her bag in the truck bed then hoisted herself into the passenger seat. Luke sniffed, then his mouth twisted in disapproval. "Have you been smoking?"
Shit. She hadn't thought of that. She should have sprayed perfume or...
"No, this old woman on the train was smoking next to me. I'll tell you all about it." As they headed toward the old house, she filled him in on the finer points of her trip--excluding, of course, why the woman was smoking and her apparent susceptibility to elderly peer pressure.
When she was done, Luke grinned and said, "Sounds like you had a good trip. I'm glad."
"So what's the deal? I thought Amy was supposed to pick me up." Not that she wasn't secretly relieved. In truth, facing Amy before anyone else was like walking directly into the lion's pit.
Luke was easier. Less assuming.
And far more likely to draw conclusions.
"You know her, she had some kind of important something or other, but she said she'd be down tonight. Honestly, I think she might have gotten a look at the place somehow and decided she didn't want to rush into it."
"What do you mean? It can't be that bad."
"Oh, it is." Luke whistled, then turned onto the beach-side street they used to ride their bikes down when they'd been kids.
They were getting close now. She could already smell the salt on the air, and it carried her away on the ocean breeze. How had she forgotten that smell?
It was like childhood and home and...
She cringed, blocking away the memory. No need to think about that. Lord knew she had enough problems without adding that to the equation.
"What do you mean? Aunt Flo only had the place for t
wo years. How could she have--"
"A question for the ages. But between getting the place from Gran and cutting loose from the earth, that old broad did some serious damage."
"Like, is it just messy or..."
"Honestly, I think this is something you're going to have to see to believe." Luke turned up the radio and started mumbling along with whatever twangy country song was playing. Julie stared out the window.
She knew she should ask about his bar. How it was coming along, if they'd opened yet, but that subject led to seriously dangerous territory. Then again, it seemed like everything led that way nowadays.
After a minute or two, the wide white gates of the Honeybrook Estates yawned before them and Luke went through all the rigmarole of swiping his ID and signing a blood oath and all the other things people had to do if they wanted access to beachfront property.
When he was done, they motored past streets filled with cookie-cutter stone-fronted houses. The facades were the same as she remembered, and she was sure the people inside were, too. All the kids who'd thought the Hamdens were too low down to live in their neighborhood, now all grown and raising kids just like them.
She shook her head, and went to sigh, then caught herself and stopped.
"Almost there." Luke nudged her.
"I remember." They motored even further up the hill, and when the crest was in view, so was the house. Or...at least, what used to be the house.
