I could’ve asked the same question of her. “Did you move back in, or something?”
Patty lived with her wife in a beach cottage about a mile down the coast from mine.
“Nah,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just a little family dinner. Come on in.”
I stepped inside a small foyer. Pale Scandinavian wood dominated from floor to ceiling, brightened by a patchwork of modern paintings, including one by Nana. The Neelys weren’t rich by a long shot, not like Benny’s folks, but they were doing better than the rest of us, and it showed in their tasteful furnishings and marble-topped kitchen counters. That’s where Patty was leading me, to the kitchen, where heavenly smells lingered and the upbeat tempo of snappy jazz that played over stereo speakers was punctuated by the clink of dishes and soft laughter.
Mr. Neely loaded the dishwasher. A big man in both size and reputation, he was one of the most respected marina managers around. With his shaved head and massive beard, and being the approximate size of a quarterback, he could be mistaken for intimidating. But Mr. Neely was the biggest teddy bear I’d ever known.
His wife sat across the kitchen island from him, sipping wine in a flowing house dress. Blond, tall, and curvy, Mrs. Neely was a former opera singer from Norway who damaged her vocal cords when she was in her twenties. She came to the US to find herself and ended up finding Mr. Neely instead. They were one of those rare couples who seemed to be utterly in love, no matter how much time passed. Their lovey-dovey relationship used to embarrass me when I was a kid, but now it felt like a goal.
“Paige!” they said together with smiling faces.
Then Mr. Neely said, “Get your butt over here, young lady.” He held out his arms like Jazmine had a few days ago when I first saw her on the beach with her class, and I didn’t hesitate to hug him. He smelled like dishwashing soap and smoke from the grill, and all at once, I realized how much I’d missed the Neelys.
My eyes brimmed with emotion, and I nearly started crying.But Mrs. Neely signaled for me to come around the island to embrace her, too, gesturing with her arms.
“Come here, third daughter,” she said in a melodic voice that still held remnants of her first language. “Let me see you.”
“Hey, Mrs. Neely.” I hugged her from the side while she sat on her stool. The next thing I knew, they were both peppering me with questions: How was I doing? Why hadn’t I come by sooner? Had I had dinner yet? Did the cottage really get broken into?
I answered the best I could and tried to keep my emotions in check, assuring them several times that I wasn’t hungry. “No, seriously. I really just need to talk with Jaz, if she’s here.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Neely said, eyes pinched with concern.
“Jaz is in the den,” Patty told me, helping her father dry dishes. “You know the way...”
That, I did. Relieved to not have to answer any more questions, I left the Neelys in the kitchen and headed down the home’s main artery, a long hallway lined with family photos. There were a few of me and Jaz over the years, including one at graduation last year. And a photo that made my heart clench: all four Wags, sitting on a dock with paper pirate hats when we were eight.
Steeling myself, I headed into the den, where we would watch movies on their home projector when we were kids. The room was empty, but I spotted movement outside a set of French doors. I took a moment to collect myself before stepping onto a wide balcony that looked out onto the marina.
It was easy to get seduced by the view. The soft marina lights. The lake to one side. Haven Beach lights to the other. But my focus was on Jazmine, who was sitting cross-legged in a big deck chair with her sprained arm in its sling, scrolling on her phonewith her free hand. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, creating a halo of curls around her face.
“Hey,” I said in low voice.
She didn’t look up. “Hey.”
Okay...After a few moments of awkward silence, I dared to take a seat in another chair and noticed her phone screen before she quickly flipped it over on the arm of her chair.
She’d been texting with Benny.
“You’re not surprised to see me,” I said flatly. “Guessing that’s because of Lulu?” I assumed the girl got in touch with Benny when I left Bean’s, and he’d texted Jaz to warn her.
Jaz sighed. “Yeah. Lulu.”
Another moment of quiet passed, then we both started talking at once.
“Paige, I don’t even know what to say—”
“Were you really seeing Pretty Paul?”
She blinked at me. “Yeah. But not anymore.”
It was true, then? My mouth hung open until I found my voice again.
“I don’t even know where to start, Jaz. Paul Vanderburg is the enemy. He fractured the Wags and took Seb away from us!”
“I know.”
