“Work emergency came up.” She looks in Londyn’s direction. “Nick works as a public relations consultant.”
“I see.”
“He’s constantly putting out fires.” She grits a smile. I can tell she’s annoyed with his absence, especially since it was his idea they spend the day together and come here. “But that’s okay. It gives us a chance to say a proper goodbye before we head back to Charleston tomorrow.”
“So you’ve decided to go back early?”
“It’ll give me time to get everything Imogene needs for the start of school,” she responds.
“Just know you’re always welcome.”
She offers me a sincere smile. “I know.”
“How about we call it quits early and go pay Miss Clara a visit?” I suggest. “I’m sure she’d love to see you one last time before you head home.” I glance at my niece. “And little Imogene, too.”
“Is that the peach cobbler lady we met at the fair?” Imogene asks.
“Yeah, baby,” Julia answers.
“Can we have peach cobbler, too?”
“It’s the last night I get to spoil you for a while. You can have anything you want.” I beam down at her, then shift my gaze to Londyn. “You’re more than welcome to join us if you’d like. I understand if you don’t,” I add quickly, not wanting to pressure her to do anything she’s uncomfortable with. I have a feeling this will happen a lot over the next few months as I try to navigate this new dynamic between us. I don’t want to push too hard, but damn if it’s impossible to not want to include her in every aspect of my life.
“I’d like that.” Then she pauses, looking down at her body. “But I’m going to need some time to shower and get all this paint off me.”
“You and me both.” I laugh. “You shower first. I can always just go for a swim in the lake with Imogene.”
My niece’s expression lights up. “Can I, Mama?”
“I don’t have a suit with me, sweet pea.”
“I still have the one you left here a few weeks ago.”
Imogene peers up at Julia with pleading eyes.
“Fine,” my sister huffs. “Go up to the bedroom and grab it.”
“I’ll show her where it is,” Londyn offers. “I’m heading up there to shower anyway.”
“Thank you, Londyn.”
With a nod, Londyn places her hand on Imogene’s shoulder, steering her past paint cans. My gaze follows her, unable to look away until she disappears from view.
But I still don’t face my sister, knowing I’m about to be subjected to an inquisition.
“So…,” Julia begins after a beat, her voice bright. “She’s back.”
I shrug her off, attempting to clean up the mess we made, paint brushes and rollers strewn all over the floor. At least we covered it in plastic. If we hadn’t, I doubt Londyn would have flung paint at me, not wanting to ruin the original flooring.
“Yes. She is.”
“How did that happen?” Julia follows me.
“By chance, I suppose. I ran into her yesterday.”
A smile plays on my lips as I recall the instant I noticed Londyn heading toward me in the crosswalk. I was about to cross the street toward her, but I didn’t, even though I had plenty of time to make it. Even though I was supposed to meet a client for dinner. I stood at that intersection, some bigger force keeping me locked in place. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was divine intervention. I don’t care. Because whatever it was brought Londyn back to me.
“Is that right?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And we talked. She explained things.” I lean toward her, lowering my voice. “Suffice it to say, she’s been hurt, Jules. Bad.”
“So have you.”
I level my gaze on her, my expression severe. “Not like this. Think of the worst possible thing that could happen to someone. That could happen to a woman. That’s what happened to her.”
She arches a brow, a question in her gaze. “Was she…”
I nod subtly, feeling guilty about saying anything at all. The last thing I want is to betray Londyn’s trust, but I need Julia on my side. On our side.
“On top of that, imagine how you’d feel if your own family didn’t support or believe you afterward.”
She wraps her arms around her stomach, staring out the window. “I don’t even know what to say.” There’s a distance in her expression and voice.
“Neither did I.”
“So that’s why she freaked out. Why she was scared.” Her words are more like a statement than a question.