Aggie was unselfconsciously poured into a pair of stretchy short-shorter-shortest cutoffs and a tight T-shirt, proud to sport her hourglass-in-a-post-Twiggy-world figure.
Julie was wearing new shorts from Aritzia and a Freddie Mercury T-shirt. She’d attempted to clip up her curly hair into a twist with tenuous success. She’d even done a pre-vacation sit out in the backyard so she wouldn’t look like rice on the beach. Still, she felt not quite ready for prime time.
Kayla stopped at the back of the SUV and opened the hatch; Aggie made a beeline for the front door.
“Hurry up. Happy hour’s waiting! Is this all your stuff?” She breezed past to pick up Julie’s laptop. “Kayla’s making more space in the trunk. Good luck with that one.” She spotted the brochures that Julie had left on the desk.
“Oh goody, plans for our next vacation.”
“No! They’re not . . .”
Aggie shoved the brochures into Julie’s beach bag just as Julie lunged for them. “Man, this is heavy, what do you have in here?”
“Beach stuff and a few books.”
“Better be juicy romances and not a textbook.”
“My Contemporary Trends class starts in three weeks.”
Aggie rolled her eyes. “Another three points toward your master’s degree. I’m impressed, but I may be moved to toss it out the car window.”
“Very funny. I’m putting it in the trunk.”
Though right now Julie wouldn’t cry if Aggie did toss it. She was the only one of the three working on her master’s degree. Better salary, better job security. Better do it now, her mother had advised. So she had.
She hadn’t told Kayla and Aggie about her request for a leave. At first she didn’t want to share it in case it didn’t happen. Now that it had not happened, she wondered if she should mention it at all. She knew they would commiserate, be disappointed that she didn’t get it and angry that she’d been passed over, but they would also be relieved because they would still be together like always.
Well, she wasn’t going anywhere but back to school. No reason to mention it ever almost happened.
Aggie headed toward the open door. “Chop-chop. Time’s a’wasting.”
“You guys are the ones who were late,” Julie groused.
“We’re always late,” Aggie said cheerfully.
“True, and I love you anyway,” Julie said, following her out the door.
Kayla had even been late to her own wedding, but that was because the limo had had a flat tire on the way to the church. Not her fault. But it had probably been one of those signs that no one ever paid attention to until it was too late.
Seven years later, her two kids spent two weeks each summer with her ex-husband, and Aggie and Julie always planned their vacation accordingly.
Julie stopped to double-lock the front door and rolled her suitcase out to the SUV.
“I think we may need your organizational skills,” Kayla said, staring under the open cargo door.
It was a mess. Julie nudged Kayla aside and began removing the haphazardly balanced bags, cases, coolers, beach umbrellas, and backpacks. Several minutes later, she’d repacked and secured every piece while managing to leave a full view out the back window for the driver.
“Pure genius,” Kayla said, and slammed the hatch.
“All righty, girls, let’s rock ’n’ roll.” Aggie stuck up her hand. They all high-fived and jumped in the car, Aggie riding shotgun and Julie in the back.
They hadn’t gone two blocks before someone’s cell phone rang.
Kayla turned down the radio while they all listened.
“It’s mine,” Julie said, recognizing the “By the Seaside” ringtone she’d downloaded for the summer.
A few seconds of rummaging in her bag and she extracted the phone, looked at the caller ID. “It’s my mother.”
“I thought she was on that nurses’ cruise.”
“She is.” Julie connected. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, Louise,” Kayla and Aggie called from the front seat.
“What’s up? Everything okay?”
“No.”
Julie sucked in her breath. “Are you okay?”
Aggie turned around in her seat, looking worried.
“I’m fine. But Lucky’s missing.”
Julie shook her head. Tony Costa. Her mother’s younger brother—by seven minutes. Julie’s sometimes surrogate father. Always entertaining, often irresponsible, never reliable, Uncle “Lucky” was a favorite with her friends. For Julie, the jury was still out.
She relaxed and gave her companions a thumbs-up. “Oh, Mom, you know how he is.”
“I do and that’s why I’m worried. We talk every week without fail.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe he couldn’t get access to your cell while you’re on the ship.”
“Of course he could.”
“Maybe his cell phone died or he doesn’t have reception on his end.” Maybe it fell in the ocean while he was out catching the big one.
“He’s in Delaware.”
“Delaware?” Julie glanced at her friends as a creeping sense of inevitability stole over her. She vaguely remembered that he had settled there . . . somewhere.
“Honey, you remember; he opened up that bar in wherever they have the big waves.”
“In Delaware?”
“Well, they’re biggish. And I’m sure it’s right on your way to Rehoboth.”
“We’re going to Dewey Beach.”
“It’s just a few minutes out of your way. He’s my twin brother. I can tell when something’s wrong.”
Leave it to her mother to pull the twins card when she was determined to have her way.
“Mom.”
“What’s wrong?” Aggie asked.
“Or maybe I can get them to airlift me off the ship . . .”
“Oh, Mom.”
“Put her on speaker,” said Kayla.
“Is that Kayla?”
“Yes. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Hi, girls, I’m so glad I caught you. You don’t mind taking a little detour, do you?”
“It’s a four-hour trip,” Julie argued from the back seat, but no one paid any attention. She already knew they’d be detouring to check out Lucky’s “retirement” venture. Some surfer bar in some beach town that was not the beach town they were going to.
But Julie could never hold out against her friends or her mother—or even Lucky.
“Not at all,” Kayla said. “We’ve got this covered.”
Julie rolled her eyes heavenward. Her mother was an intelligent woman, hardworking. She’d raised Julie solo and done a good job of it, while also saving enough money to send Julie to college. But all that rationality and self-reliance flew out the window when it came to her twin brother.
Julie tried not to audibly sigh. “Okay, text me his number and address. I’ll phone you tonight.” She ended the call and sank back against the seat.
In the last two weeks, she’d been denied leave, almost quit her job, and in the midst of her existential crisis, they were driving not to their planned vacation but to look for her disappearing uncle. Okay, one more little detour, and her duties would be done. Then ten whole days of lying on the beach. Fun in the sun. Drinks with little umbrellas. Dancing in the moonlight.