Finding Julian (2 page)

Chapter Three

Bright light warmed my face.
My eyes flickered until I could open them wide enough. I’d slept all the way to
the next day. Easing up on my elbows, I noticed someone had pulled the covers
over me. Aunt Bev probably came back to the room last night when I didn’t show
up for dinner.

Sluggishly, I got out of bed and
stretched my hands up over my head. Then I walked over to the sliding doors and
pulled away the curtains. The sun lit up the room, almost blinding me.

I opened the glass doors, stepped out
onto the balcony and bent over the railing to take in the morning. There were a
few people on the beach jogging, while some relaxed on chairs with books in
their hands. I was tempted to go outside. But just as fast as the thought
popped into my head, I remembered why I was here. Not to get swallowed up in
such a lovely environment; I was here for my father’s funeral.

Nothing else.

  
I walked inside and went into the bathroom to brush my hair up into a ponytail,
making sure to clean up the loose strands when I finished. Then I washed my
face and brushed my teeth. The moment I stepped back into the bedroom, my cell
phone rang. I checked the screen. Mom.

“I’m in Narragansett,” I answered.
“Sorry, I fell asleep before calling you last night.” I was trying to save her
the energy of getting upset.

“Well,” Mom drew a breath, “I’m glad you
got there all right. Have you seen your aunt? She told me she’d pick you up in
Providence. How’s she doing?”

I sat at the edge of the bed.
“She’s…okay. I guess. Mom, I’m staying with her, at the guesthouse.”

  
Mom paused then said, “She’d mentioned that as well. Listen, it’s fine for now
as long as you get out of that hell hole right after the funeral, Jules. I
don’t like you being there with them.”

“I know, Mom. Look, I’ll call you as
soon as it’s over and when I’m heading home later.”

“All right,” she whispered. “Love you,
honey. See you soon.”

The moment I got off the phone, my
nostrils flared at the smell of coffee and toast. My stomach growled. I was
starving.

I stuck my cell phone inside my pocket
and headed out the bedroom and down the passage.

Stopping in the arched doorway, I peeped
into the kitchen. Aunt Bev sat at the table by the window and a voluptuous red
head stood by the stove. She was dressed in a black dress and wore an apron
around her waist. I figured she was Aunt Bev’s housekeeper and cook.

“Good morning,” I greeted them both as I
walked into the kitchen and around the island.

The lady turned and smiled at me,
“Morning.”

“Good morning, Julian,” Aunt Bev said
jauntily, sipping her coffee. She nodded me over to the table.

I sauntered across the kitchen towards
her and sat on a chair. Peering with discretion at her plate, I noticed she had
an omelet, hash browns, and French toast. My stomach growled again. I held my
belly and looked up at Aunt Bev to see if she heard.

Her hazel eyes widened. “Somebody’s
hungry.” She slanted in the chair and called out to the lady, “Claire, could
you please fix a plate for Julian as well?”

I jumped up. “Oh, that’s all right,
Claire. I can help myself.”

“There’s no need,” Claire waved me off.
“You stay right there and I’ll get you something to eat.”

She went right to it.

I still felt bad, letting someone wait
on me, but the look on Aunt Bev’s face and Claire’s told me I’d better not
dispute it.

“Claire’s been with me for three years
now. She’s wonderful,” Aunt Bev gushed.

I glanced over at Claire then, she had a
modest smile on her face.

“The service is at 3 o’clock,” Aunt Bev
filled me in as I sat back on the chair. “When we get to the church, Julian,
don’t pay any attention to anyone.”

She kept her gaze away from mine and out
the window.

“Okay…” my voice trailed. Sweat started
to trickle down my back.

Aunt Bev looked at me. Her forehead
wrinkled, seeing my nervousness so clearly.

“Stick with me. It’ll all be okay,” she
patted my hand on top of the table.

“I can handle it,” I feigned bravery.
“Besides, I won’t be—”

“—around for long,” she mimicked. “I
know, you keep saying that.”

Claire brought over a plate for me along
with a cup of coffee. “You take it with sugar? Crème?” she raised an eyebrow as
she asked.

“Sugar alone please,” I said. She handed
me the jar.

As I poured sugar into my coffee, Aunt
Bev released a soft giggle. “Like your father.”  

I peered up at her. She was staring
vacantly at my coffee. Her mind seemed to have wandered off somewhere. When she
looked at me again, her lips parted to say something, but someone entered the
kitchen and drew her attention.

Instinctively, I turned to see the cause
of the interruption. A young man in a white t-shirt and jeans entered the
kitchen; his piercing emerald eyes mesmerized me with their penetrating stare.
I immediately broke contact, dropping my gaze down to my plate.

“Oh,” Aunt Bev shot up from her chair
and went over to him. “This is who I wanted to introduce you to last night,
Julian.”

I stood as she tugged him over to the
table. “This is Seven. He’s—”

“Wait a second,” I cut in out of
surprise. “Your name is a number?”

Seven tightened his jaw and scowled at
me. “Yeah, so?” he retorted, his timbre deep, with the smooth essence of a
musician’s voice.

My cheeks flushed red. “Oh no, I’m not
trying to be rude. I just think it’s different. It’s cool.”

“Well,” Aunt Bev chimed. “As I was
saying, Seven is the nephew of your stepmother and I wanted you two to meet
because you were born on the same day.”

I wasn’t sure why I was super
disappointed he had any relation to Marlene. That fact stood out more than us
sharing a birthday.

“Nice,” he said, feigning interest.
Seven backed away and went over to Claire, immediately fixing his breakfast.

Writing him off as a snotty rich kid, I
returned to eating.

Aunt Bev re-joined me at the table. “I
thought you two might get along well. You know, being twenty-one.” She leaned
over and whispered, “Seven
is
a nice guy.”

Looking up at her, she had a sneaky grin
on her face as she eyed me intently.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she shook her head and picked
her plate up. “Take your time and eat, Seven will show you around before the
service.”

“Huh?” he groaned over by the island,
his mouth stuffed with a biscuit.

Aunt Bev placed her dish in the sink and
patted Seven on the shoulder. She strolled out of the kitchen.

He looked over at me and I once again
stared at my plate. I did watch him from out the corner of my eye though. Seven
remained by the island, leaning against it as he finished his breakfast. Maybe
that was his way of showing his allegiance to his aunt.

After finishing my breakfast, I brought
the plate over to the sink and he moved aside as if he feared I’d touch him.
Seven appeared surprised, as I washed my own dish. Huh. Rich boy probably
didn’t know the first thing about cleaning up after himself.

“You don’t have to do that, dear. It’s
my job,” said Claire, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I glanced over at her and smiled. “I’m
used to helping myself.”

I finished rinsing and set the plate in
the dish rack, satisfied, before I made my way out the kitchen and towards the
passage to head back to the guestroom.

Seven called out to me before I went out
of sight. “Grab your flip-flops. Aunt Bev will be mad if I don’t show you
around.”

Huh? Was he impressed by what I’d just
done?

He walked over to the foyer, opening the
front door as he added, “I’ll meet you at the main entrance.” He closed the
door just as I was going to protest.

I went back to the guestroom, moaning as
I stuck my feet into the flats I had on yesterday. I didn’t want to tour
Narragansett. I wanted to wait out the time in this room, go to the funeral,
and head home afterwards.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have a choice
and had to go with him. Still, Aunt Bev seemed so happy to have me here,
finally. I didn’t want to disappoint her again. That’s the kind of person I
was, always trying to make others happy.

I walked across the lawn, tightening my
stomach as I went up the marble steps around to the main entrance of the house.
I was almost past the front door when Mackenzie came strutting out. Her long,
blonde hair was styled nicely—it radiated in the sunlight. She was wearing a
short summer dress and wooden sandals.

Mackenzie paused at the front door and
rummaged in her beach bag. Just as she took out humongous shades to put on, she
looked up. Our eyes made four.

The air froze around us.

Her smile faded. Her eyes expanded. The
pale blue nearly invisible as a death glare erupted. Her body language screamed
hatred.

Mackenzie eyed me from head to toe,
making sure she was really seeing me. Her face twisted as if she smelled
something foul.

“What the hell!” she shrieked. I winced
at her words. “You came
here
?”

I wanted to say something, tell her I
had as much right to be at the Vanderson estate because he was my father too.
But then again, she had every right to be angry. I shouldn’t have stayed on
their property. It was crossing a line.

Still, I hated the tone of her voice,
like she was talking down to me. I lifted my chin confidently and said, “Look,
Aunt Bev invited me to stay with her so chill out.”

Mackenzie’s jaw dropped, surprised I’d
dare talk back to her, much less hear that her own aunt had invited me to here.

“I don’t care what that two-faced bitch
said, you have a second to get the hell out of here—”

“Kenzie, come on. Give it a rest,” Seven
rushed to my defense. I was amazed.

My half-sister grimaced. Her lips
trembled as she went on, “But, Seven, she’s—”

“I know who she is. Everybody knows,” he
mumbled, sounding exhausted. “It’s just for today and you won’t even see her
because she’s staying in the guesthouse with me and Aunt Bev.”

Wait. Seven was staying in the
guesthouse as well?
Of course, idiot
. That’s why he had breakfast there
earlier.

Mackenzie pursed her lips, appalled at
how blithely her cousin was taking this.

Turning, she yelled, “We’ll see if you
even make it to the funeral when Mom hears about this,” before she slammed the
front door shut.

Seven whistled and playfully wiped his
forehead. “Don’t worry. Marlene already knows you’re staying with Aunt Bev.”

“And no one remembered to mention it to
Mackenzie?”

He walked over to the driveway and got
into his convertible. “Because she’s too damn dramatic,” he said, urging me
over as he put the roof down.

I walked over and got in, asking, “How’d
your aunt take it?” Though, I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to hear.

Seven started the car and reversed out
of the driveway. He smirked before answering, “I’m not sure how, but Aunt Bev
found a way to make you stay here in spite of how Marlene hates it.”

He drove out of the estate and headed
for the exit of the waterfront community.

I rested my head back on the seat. “Did
Aunt Bev ask you to keep me away until the service?”

Seven turned and looked at me briefly
then stared back on the road. “Yeah, she told me to keep you away from them. I
mean,” he grinned, “they hate you. I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”

“Thing is, Aunt Marlene has every right
to be angry,” he continued. “Her husband cheated on her and knocked-up some
other lady right after she had Mackenzie. No offense, Julian, but you being
here is causing added pain for her and my cousin.”