Lighthouse Way (Huckleberry Bay 1)

“Not in anything?” I ask, surprised. “But you’ve always had a great eye for these kinds of things. You’re an artist.”

Sarah always loved to paint when we were kids. My parents bought her a paint set for her sixteenth birthday with canvases and brushes, and the pictures Sarah painted were beautiful. I still have one hanging in my bedroom.

“I’m not an artist,” she says as she rubs a hand along the kitchen countertop and then frowns at the dust on her palm. “I definitely need to scrub in here.”

“The canvas in my living room says differently,” June says, and I nod in agreement.

“Either way,” Sarah says, “I didn’t have much say in most things. But now, I get to choose everything for this place. I know it’s not a ten-thousand-square-foot mansion in Malibu, but it’s mine, and I have a say in it.”

“Okay. Well then, boss, what do you want?” I ask her. “Hardwood or carpet?”

“I don’t want carpet,” she decides. “I’d like hardwood or vinyl, and I can throw down rugs to make it warmer. And…look.”

We follow her down a tiny hallway where the two bedrooms and bathroom are.

“This second bedroom is small, but I’m going to make it into a studio.”

“It’s perfect for that,” I agree. “Are we sure no one died in that bathtub?” I say as I peek into the bathroom.

“It’s rust,” June says with a sigh. “You’ll need a new tub. It’s an easy swap, though. I’ll let Wolfe know.”

“I don’t want to be difficult,” Sarah says with a frown. “He’s already giving me a deal, and—”

“Whether it’s you or someone else living here, he has to replace the tub,” June insists. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m going to make a list of all of the colors I want to paint the walls.” Sarah grins and then dances a little jig right in the tiny bathroom.

“There’s a lot of building and renovating happening in our little group,” I say as we walk to the stairway that leads down to the car. “It feels like we all have something in the works. We’re going to work you to death, June.”

“This is an easy job,” June insists. “I can do that bathroom swap in an hour. Honest.”

“Well, I’m coming tomorrow to tear out the carpet,” Sarah says. “And I’m going to buy paint this afternoon so I can start on that, too.”

“I can help,” I offer, but Sarah’s already shaking her head.

“I’ve got this. It’ll be therapeutic to put some sweat into it, you know? But if I need help, I’ll call you.”

“Do that,” June says. “And I’ll call Wolfe about the bathroom and flooring. You’ll have to pick stuff out for that, too.”

“I’m going to kick ass at painting those walls,” Sarah says as we all climb into my car. “I’ll be moved in in no time.”

“Are you trying to run away from me?” I demand, eyeing her in the rearview mirror.

“No. Of course, not. But I’ve never lived on my own, you know? I went from my parents’ to Anthony’s to your place. I’m excited to have my own little spot that I can make mine.”

“I’m happy for you,” I reply with a smile. “And you know I was just teasing. Okay, girls, shall we go to Gordy’s for lunch?”

“Hell, yes,” June says. “As long as Sarah doesn’t mind eating where she works.”

“I love it there,” Sarah says. “Let’s go.”

Gordy’s is up the bay a bit and not nearly as busy as I expected it to be when I pull into the parking lot.

It’s an old-fashioned diner with the drive-up slots still active. If you don’t want to go inside, you can park by a big, lit menu with a speaker, and a waitress will deliver your food on a tray that sits on your window.

We thought it was the best thing ever when we were kids.

Now, I prefer to sit inside at one of the old-fashioned red booths.

“Are you going to have to run food out to cars?” I ask Sarah as we walk in.

“Yeah, but I told Gordy that I won’t wear roller skates. I’d break my neck on those things. He said that was fine.”

We’re chuckling when a waitress named Sunny comes to seat us.

“Oh, I haven’t seen the three of you together in more years than I can count,” she says as tears fill her eyes. “I knew that Sarah was back, of course, but seeing you together…well, it’s just as it should be. Come on, I’ll seat you in your regular booth.”

“Thanks, Sunny,” I reply as we follow her to the booth we always sat in, back in the far corner by the old jukebox.

“Do you all want your usuals?”

We share glances and then nod at the sweet woman who’s been waitressing at Gordy’s for as long as I can remember.

“You got it,” she says with a wink and hurries away.