Secrets Whispered from the Sea - Emma St. Clair Page 0,34

he built before I was even out of college? Did he have kids? How old were they? An ex? Was he closer to retirement age than I was to my twenty-first birthday?

And why was I thinking about this right now when I really wanted to slap him?

“The plans were crap,” he said, just proving all my points.

I threw my hands up in the air. “Just go, Alec.” I turned and stomped my way up the steps.

“I can help,” he called after me, smart enough not to follow. “Let me help you, Clementine. Please.”

The please gave me pause, but only for a moment.

“I don’t need you,” I said, before stepping inside Nana’s house where I was immediately wrapped in familiar heat and the comforting scent of apples.

13

You can do this. Just turn the key, Clem.

Turn the key.

Silent pep talks never had worked for me. So, I stood there, under the deck, sweating in my swimsuit and beach cover-up, with a key in the door of Nana’s jeep. If I couldn’t turn the key to unlock the door, I didn’t think I’d possibly be able to turn it in the ignition.

It was just a vehicle. A hunk of metal with a motor, pretty badly in need of a paint job and maybe some new tires.

But I could picture Nana behind the wheel, the top down and the doors off, her white hair blowing in the wind. She’d never let me or Ann drive it, not once. And now she’d left it to me. Did she think it would be easy for me to drive it? Did she think that I could just get in and go?

The girls are waiting on you.

That thought did it. I was already going to be late picking up Sophie and Camille, fulfilling every expectation Ann had of me as the scatterbrained aunt (if she was being generous) or probably untrustworthy (if she was being her normal, charming self) aunt. I was taking the girls to the beach, then feeding them dinner while Ann and Tommy went on a date.

If not for this emotional breakdown, I would have been on time. But I wasn’t about to give Ann the reason for my tardiness. I couldn’t imagine her standing here this long, hand frozen on the lock. She probably already would have sold this thing for parts. Or, she would have just ignored the jeep and driven the perfectly acceptable Honda parked in the driveway. But I promised the twins we’d have a true beach day, jeep included.

It might not even run, I told myself as I climbed into the car. But when I turned the key, the jeep started right up, a blast of hot air coming out of the vents. I rolled down the windows, fanning myself. I would have taken down the top and removed the doors, but there wasn’t time. As of now, I’d be a semi-respectable five minutes late rather than fifteen. It just meant baking for a few minutes.

Pulling out of the driveway, I was surprised how natural it felt to be behind the wheel of Nana’s beloved jeep. The sun beaming down on me felt like her approval somehow. Her hot and sticky approval, but approval nonetheless.

I was halfway to Ann’s when the AC finally cooled enough to roll up the windows. It felt wrong to drive a jeep at the beach with the top on and windows up, but it was simply too hot. My cover-up was plastered to the black leather seat, and my hair felt heavy and damp on my neck. As cold as I knew the ocean would be, I couldn’t wait to throw myself into it.

When I turned down their street, my heart pinched a little at the sight of the twins on the porch steps, shoulders a little slumped. Did they think I wasn’t coming? Ann stood a few steps above them, arms crossed.

The sight took me back. Back to me and Ann waiting for Mom to get up from her mid-afternoon nap to make dinner. Or to me waiting outside the middle school for her to pick me up. More often than not, Mom’s promises turned into excuses.

I repeated the vow I’d made myself back then: I’d never grow up to be her.

The shift in the three of their bodies was dramatic when they spotted the jeep. The girls leaped to their feet, leaving their towels and bags to run down the stairs. Ann even looked relieved as she trailed behind them, carrying their forgotten