Page 28 of You Met Me There

Emma: But that would spoil the surprise. This is a grand gesture! I can’t tip her off with a question like that.

I roll my eyes, but I know she’s right. I don’t want Nat getting suspicious and having the chance to run off again.

Me: Fine. I’m looking for car rentals right now, and then I’ll start driving toward Maple Lake. Text me as soon as you see she’s at her sister’s.

Emma: You got it. I’m so excited!

I let out a breath as I make quick work of getting to the small section of the airport where I find the rental car companies, hoping Natalie is surprised in the best way. And not in a way that makes her resent me more.

Chapter 16

Natalie

Time passes excruciatingly slowly as I wait for Jules to text me. Our parents must still be driving their RV from Ohio. With two drivers taking turns, the journey is certainly one that can be accomplished in a single day, but I wouldn’t blame them if they got tired and needed to stop for the night. Driving from Florida to Pennsylvania wasn’t exactly a fun experience.

When I finally get a text, it’s at six thirty.

Juliet: They’re forty-five minutes away. You’re welcome to come over now if you’d like. We’re making burgers.

A warm sensation fills my chest. I’m more than ready to see my family, and I’ll do all I can to keep the negative thoughts and anxiety away. I pull my phone close and text her back.

Me: I’ll head over now. See you soon!

I lower the phone, eyeing the bubble that holds my sent message. The exclamation mark is too much. Is it too much?

I’m in a weird place with Juliet, and I’m not sure what to do, how to act, or what to say. I wonder if Tyler will be at dinner. I didn’t ask if she called him, not wanting to put more pressure on her than I already have. She called my parents at least, and that’s enough for me. I’ll ask about my brother later.

I sigh and stuff the phone in the back pocket of my jean shorts. Turning to the mirror near the door, I straighten the thin straps of my pink satin tank top, then smooth another layer of gloss over my pink-tinted lips. The motion brings me back to myself, back to normalcy. I almost feel like I’m heading out to a couple’s shoot at the beach rather than to a dinner with hurt, angry family members.

My bleach-blonde hair falls in neat waves to my shoulders. I don’t look like the mess inside of me. The outside me looks great. Everything is perfect.

I grab the bags of gifts I bought for the boys—reusable water balloons and adorable little sunglasses—and drive straight to Juliet’s lake house.

When I arrive, I’m greeted by a very frazzled Juliet. My sister’s long hair sits in a low ponytail with loose strands framing her face. Her cheeks shine pink, and her eyes red. If I had to guess, I’d say she looks like she’d been crying.

I frown. “Hey, are you okay?”

She guides me into the house and I follow, catching a glimpse of her kids with her husband in the backyard through the living room windows. I don’t know them, but I still want to run outside and yell, “Auntie Nat’s here!”

Juliet pushes her hair from her face with both hands and heaves a heavy sigh. “I’m fine. Just a lot going on all at once, that’s all.” She gestures toward the back porch. “The burgers are cooking, and Mom said they’ll be here in”—she checks the time lit up on the microwave over her shoulder—“ten minutes.”

My heart skips like a flat stone over the lake. How will they act when they see me? What will they say?

I shake the thoughts away, breathing through my nose to calm my pulse. “Is Tyler coming?”

She busies herself, washing her hands at the sink. “No. He couldn’t take off work last minute.”

I hum my understanding, wondering what he thinks of me being back. What did Jules tell him? Was he angry? Happy? I want to ask, but I leave it at that.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask instead.

Juliet shakes her head. “Everything’s already set up on the back deck, and I have drinks staying cold in the fridge. Do you want something now?”

“Sure. What do you have?” I ask, peering across the kitchen as she opens the fridge.

“Water, lemonade, milk, beer, Moscato.” She looks back at me. “Coffee?”

I laugh at the last option. “I’ve had trouble sleeping lately; coffee won’t help.” She eyes me, but she doesn’t ask about the sleep problem. “I’ll take a glass of Moscato,” I say almost too quickly.