Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Julian
“Hello, family,” I proclaim to the table with a beaming smile.
The muted-navy linen chair scrapes along the dark hardwood floors as I pull it back, preparing to sit in my usual spot by the window overlooking the long expanse of sand dunes covered with tall grass blowing in the breeze and the ocean beyond.
This has been our table as long as I can remember, and it feels good to be back at it.
Gasping, my mom jumps up and rushes toward me. “Julian, you’re here! How are you here? Is this why your brothers suggested dinner?” She throws the questions at me like a detective interrogating a suspect. When she reaches my side, she immediately flings her arms around me.
I circle my arms tightly around her, inhaling the soothing scent of jasmine and driftwood. “Hey, Mom.”
When I decided to head down to see my parents, I texted my brothers and they arranged dinner so I could surprise them.
“Let him breathe, sweetheart.” My dad’s teasing comment has us pulling apart, but she doesn’t let me go. Instead, she cups my face in her palms.
Pure joy is painted across her upturned face. “Oh, baby, I’m so happy you’re coming home.”
“Well, closer to home anyway,” I correct.
With a shake of her head, she replies, “Basically down the street compared to all the way in Pennsylvania.”
“We actually live down the street, but she doesn’t fuss over either of us like this,” quips Cole, one of my younger brothers—the middle.
“It’s because he’s her special boy,” taunts Alex, my youngest brother and the most rowdy of us boys, exaggerating the word special.
Moving to their side of the table, I swing my arms around both their shoulders. With me sandwiched between them, I whisper, “It’s because surgeon trumps lawyer. And finance bro.” I turn my smug gaze from one to the other before patting them on the back and standing up.
Hushed “asshole” and “dick” are thrown at me.
Swallowed up in my dad’s embrace, it really hits me how much I’ve missed being close to my family. It feels good to embrace my parents and share sibling banter with my brothers, so I soak up the warmth expanding in my chest.
The only thing that would make this evening complete would be if my sister were here.
Growing up, my family was really close. I’ve basically lived away from Saltmeadow Point since I went away to college. Thankfully, our bond never wavered. Finally being at a place in my career where I could be selective about my next move, it was a no-brainer to choose Palmetto Regional.
“Sit down, sit down. Lucas, scoot over to that chair. I want to sit next to my son,” Mom calls to Dad from her seat, shooing him down the table.
“See, her special boy has to sit next to her while kicking her husband to the curb.” Alex turns to look at our dad. “Still happy he’s moving back, Dad?”
Ignoring the wisecrack, I let my eyes wander the familiar dining space and ocean beyond.
The cream-colored panel walls are decorated with vintage prints of the historic local golf course, famous the world over for hosting one of the most celebrated men’s major professional golf championships every year.
The classic clubhouse brass and leather accents are softened by the coastal calm ambiance.
Waves crashing on the sand dunes is the soundtrack as we look over the menu, even if we already know what we want.
A renewed excitement rolls through me after making the manageable drive from Bayberry Park knowing seeing my family more frequently can now be a regular occurrence.
As soon as the waiter departs with our orders, Mom turns to me with grabby hands. “Okay, show me pictures of the houses you saw. I’m dying to see what I could be working with.”
With a too-quick smile aimed at her, I bring my glass of water to my lips. “I’ve decided to wait to find a place. Jace is going to let me stay with him while I get my footing at the hospital,” I respond slowly.
On the drive, Jace and I finally caught up after I dropped his call this morning.
He gave me so much shit, but I was able to deflect his questions with talk of my decision to hold off on putting in any offers on a house.
He was genuinely happy that I’d be staying with him while I decide what to do about my housing.
“What?” Mom gasps in dismay.
My brothers and I share a look, like they know what I’m thinking.
Very likely, she’s gotten carried away with interior design ideas.
It wouldn’t be surprising if I came home from work one day to an entirely decorated house, rental or not.
Again. It had been a shock after a long shift at the hospital during my Ortho Trauma fellowship to find my apartment unpacked, organized, and new decorations rounding out the surprise of seeing my mom and sister standing in the kitchen. I still have no idea how they got in.
But that wasn’t their only instance of breaking and entering to decorate. Mom and Quinn went all out decorating the place Alex and Cole share—also while they were at work.
Collapsing back into my seat, I say, “Mom, I love you but I don’t think I can handle another round of you and Quinn invading wherever I’m living and wielding your magic wands.”
“Good luck with that!” Alex not so subtly whispers.
Glaring at her boys, she sulks. “Wasn’t it nice being able to just focus on your new jobs and not on unpacking and setting up your places?
“Of course, Mom,” I say, suppressing an eye roll. “But it doesn’t matter because I’m staying with Jace for a while.”
“Jace is such a sweet boy, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Mom, no. Absolutely not.”
When she humphs, Dad puts his arm around her shoulder and brings her into his side. He whispers in her ear, then places a kiss on her head.
My parents have always been affectionate and modeled that their relationship is a priority to keep our entire family strong and close. But seeing them tonight hits different.
Enchanting green eyes flash in my mind and I rub at the aching pinch in my chest.
Thoughts of Leena have been swirling inside my head since I turned around to find her gone this morning. I don’t even know the woman, but I felt inexplicably drawn to her, a pull to know everything about her.
“Are you feeling alright, Julian?” Mom prods, breaking into my wandering thoughts.
Sitting up in my chair, I sigh, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks in a tone that won’t accept anything but the truth, as only a mother can when she knows her child is lying.
“I . . . I met someone today—”
“Tell me everything,” Mom demands, cutting me off.
“There’s not much to tell. I met a woman and then messed it up by not getting her number. Or her last name.”
“Oh, my sweet boy,” she tries to console me, and I cringe.
“You’d think being a surgeon, you wouldn’t be so stupid.” Cole’s dig would irritate me if I couldn’t hear the sympathy mixed with his own regret lacing the words. A familiar haunted look appears on his face.
Mom reaches out to grip his hand but solemnly tells me, “If it’s meant to be, you’ll see her again.”
Clearing my throat, I smile to appease my mom, ending this conversation for Cole’s benefit and mine.
But I can’t deny how the earlier ache in my chest now feels warmer, a spark of hope ignited that I will see my girl again.