Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“He . . . umm . . . he knows, right?” Allie asked.
“About us pulling off the fake date for the sake of getting Juniper into ballet? Absolutely. He’s all for it.” Beachman was more than ecstatic to facilitate what he saw as the fix for the problem I represented. “I left the rest out.”
“Good. The less people we have to lie to, the better.” She plopped on a floppy sun hat, and we stepped into the midday sun. Seventy-seven degrees was hot for this time of year, but I wasn’t complaining about the warmth or the cloudless blue sky.
“You all right?” I tilted my head. “You’re more quiet than usual.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Had a shit day yesterday, and just really don’t want to think about it.” She hefted her beach bag, about half her size, onto her shoulder.
“Or talk about it,” I guessed.
“Definitely not.” She shook her head, which didn’t surprise me. Allie was harder to crack than a Rubik’s Cube.
“Then allow me to distract you with sand, water, and what I hope might even be a little bit of fun.” I motioned toward the beach.
“A distraction sounds perfect, actually.” She did me the honor of not faking a smile.
Beachman and I divvied up what needed to be carried, and a few minutes later, we trekked through the sand past the tiled comfort station with its wraparound deck, and onto the beach where my parents and Caroline waited.
Dad had outdone himself as usual, planting four giant beach umbrellas—their scalloped edges fluttering with every gust of wind—with two camping chairs under each in the sand about twenty feet from the waves.
“Let the games begin,” Allie muttered, her hand holding her hat in place.
“I’ve got your back,” I promised as we approached. Her back, her front, I’d cover whatever she needed.
There were only a few other families on this section of the beach, and I savored the quiet. In a few weeks, there wouldn’t be an empty place to sit as we hit peak season.
“Hudson!” Mom stood up from her chair as I sat the cooler next to Dad’s, then leaned into a quick hug. “Allie!” She pivoted without warning and threw her arms around Allie.
Allie froze for a noticeable second, then hugged her back awkwardly. “Mrs. Ellis.”
“Call me Gwen, dear.” Mom pulled back and squeezed Caroline’s shoulders, then grinned at Beachman. “Eric! It’s been too long!”
“Mrs. E.” He all but swallowed Mom in a hug.
“Her parents weren’t huggers, I’m guessing,” Dad said quietly from beside me.
“She’s affectionate.” My tone sharpened. “Especially with her sisters.”
“Didn’t say she wasn’t.” Dad clapped my back. “She’s tough, I’ll give her that.”
“Because she grew up with Thatcher and Sophie?” I asked, noting that Caroline hadn’t looked up from her book under the third umbrella.
“Thatcher wasn’t terrible,” Dad mused. “Came into the café every morning to read the paper and ordered a strong black coffee. Always said lovely things about his girls. Yours, in particular, though he doted a little too much on the youngest. I was saying Allie’s tough because she came back after Caroline dug her claws into her. She must care about you.”
“She’s incredible,” I said, watching Allie fearlessly settle into the chair next to Caroline, putting her bag between them.
“She has to be, if you felt the need to hide her away from us when you were kids.” He leveled the look on me, the one where he was disappointed but wasn’t going to say it.
“You were never the problem.” I opened the cooler and snagged two Smartwaters. “Well, maybe Caroline was part of it.”
“She hated that family ever since the day Sophie Rousseau had Madeline cut her best friend from the advanced class to make room for the oldest daughter. What was her name?” Dad scratched his clean-shaven chin.
“Lina.” My brow furrowed. “I don’t remember that.”
“Oh, it was years and years ago. You were little. There had to be seven or eight years between the girls, which started a whole thing. Sophie had their studio built the next year and started bringing in all those professionals to teach, and the Classic was born. Great for the economy, tough on the year-rounders.” Dad adjusted the first umbrella to better cover Mom as she sat down.
I walked over to Allie and handed her the water, glancing between her and Caroline to see if there’d been any bloodshed yet. I wasn’t above chucking my sister into the water after the way she’d treated Allie at the party.
“Thank you.” Allie took the bottle, and I sat beside her. Beachman had already sprawled over the chair to my left. “I can’t believe you remember which water I like.”
“I remember everything.” I turned my hat backward to keep it on, and Allie set hers down, pinning the edge with her beach bag. Staring while she tied her hair up in a loose knot wasn’t an option, so I looked past her to Caroline. “Where’s Juniper?”