He dropped a kiss on my cheek before lugging my suitcase out of the trunk and following me up the steps of the porch. The white paint was always flaking, no matter how many times Lee’s parents gave us twenty bucks to spend an afternoon painting it. The bench on the porch creaked like it was about to snap in half every time you sat down; I ran a hand over one of its arms as I passed to go inside.

The beach house had a lot of rooms, but they were all small, packed tightly together. The furniture hadn’t been replaced in years; some of it was from when we were little kids. There was a pool outside and a table we usually ate at in the evenings if it wasn’t raining, and a path that was always overgrown with rough plants leading down to the beach. The whole thing was the polar opposite of the immaculately put-together Flynn home in the city with its modern decor.

We loved it exactly as it was—a little shabby, lived-in, and homey.

In my eyes, it was perfect.

“I’m just going to run and get some food,” June announced, walking out of the kitchen as I was coming down the hallway. She smiled when she saw me. “Hey, Elle, sweetie.”

I said hello and hugged her while Noah squeezed past to drop my suitcase in my room.

“Do you want some company to the store?” I offered.

“No, no, that’s okay. You stay here and unpack.”

Then, holding me at a little distance and looking at me with that gentle, motherly smile she always wore, June said something that caught me totally off guard, because it was so out of the blue.

“Look at you, Elle. You suddenly seem so grown-up.”

“Why? Because I had to use that special zipper that makes my suitcase expand?”

“No.” She laughed. “I don’t know—I can’t quite pinpoint it. You just seem like you’ve become a real young woman recently. Anyway—listen to me rambling on like this! I’m getting out of here before I find myself looking for any baby photos lying around! Oh, and tell the boys we’re having steak for dinner.”

“Sure thing,” I called as June headed back toward the kitchen.

I started down the hallway in the direction of the bedrooms. Lee and I had ours side by side with Noah’s, separated by a bathroom in the middle that we all shared. It might’ve made more sense for the boys to have a room together, but they’d always bickered so much when we were little, it had been Lee and me who’d shared—and we’d just never changed that. (And despite how cool June and Matthew were, they’d made a point of drawing the line at me sharing a room with Noah.)