“We’ve decided to sell the beach house.”
No way.
This wasn’t happening.
Today had already been a total roller coaster, but this was the worst part so far—and it wasn’t even one o’clock yet.
“What? Why?” Noah burst out, while Lee shot to his feet, crying, “Hold on! What? Where’s this coming from?”
“Lee, please, sit down,” his dad said firmly.
Lee did, but gawped at his parents. “Wait a second—was this whole meal just to soften the blow and butter us up before you dropped that bomb?”
“No!” June sat up straighter, then fiddled with her napkin. “Not…really…Kind of. Did it work?”
“Using delicious meats and beverages to deliver bad news is wrong, Mom, just wrong. I thought we raised you better than that.”
Noah elbowed him, to quit with the jokes. “You guys are serious about this? You’re actually selling the beach house? We’ve had it forever!”
“We’ve been talking about it for a while now,” June said. “It just doesn’t make sense to hold on to it anymore, not with you kids going off to college. It’s like you said last year, Noah. You guys are going to start getting jobs and summer internships, moving around the country for college or to meet up with friends….A lot of things are changing, so it seems like the sensible thing to do.”
“And we might as well tell you, because you kids will find out soon enough anyway,” Matthew said with a sniff, “the whole area is being redeveloped. If we sell up now, we could get four, maybe five times what it’s worth.”
“You sound like a realtor,” Lee grumbled, sinking in his seat.
“Honey,” June said, “Iama realtor. We didn’t make this decision lightly, you know. There are a lot of interested buyers, and that land is just too valuable to hold on to.”
“The land?” Noah echoed. He leaned over the table, frowning. “They’re not going to knock it down, are they?”
Matthew shrugged. “It’s very likely. We didn’t take you for the sentimental type, Noah.”
He pouted, slouching in his seat. It made him look younger and was an entirely un-Noah-like look. In fact, he looked distinctly Lee-like in that moment. “We spent a lot of time at that place. It’s…it’s just weird to think it might not be there anymore,” he added stiffly.
“Where are we meant to watch the Fourth of July fireworks now? Going to the beach house together istradition.We swore we’d always go there every summer! You might as well cancel Christmas, Mom.”
“Lee…”
“With the money we make from the sale, we could buy another,” Matthew suggested, like that was anywherenearthe point. “Some place where the paint isn’t peeling and the pool filter doesn’t break every year.”
“No!” Lee cried. “I’m putting my foot down. You guys can’t sell.”
“Yeah,” Noah piped up, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms just like Lee was doing. They’d always been so different, but right now, anyone could see they were brothers. They were a united front. “I’ve gotta go with Lee on this one. That house has been in the family for, what, eighty years? It was your grandma’s place, Dad! You can’t justreplace it.You can’t sell it!”
“If we’re voting here, I’m a solid no, too,” I said, raising my hand. The beach house felt like it was my place just as much as it was theirs. And Lee was right. It was tradition.
I shot Rachel a look, even though she’d only ever been to the beach house for a few days last year, and she waved a hand around awkwardly. “Me too.”
June sighed. “I’m sorry, guys. It’s already been decided.”
The waitress chose that moment to appear with our plates of food.
“Like hell it has,” Lee muttered to himself, but I heard him. He caught my eye and I didn’t think I’deverseen him look so determined.
If his parents thought we were going to let the beach house go without a fight, they were sadly mistaken.
Chapter Three
I’d thought the whole “Berkeley versus Harvard” thing was bad enough, but this?
