"I know. Nerdy." He shrugged.
"No, I'm impressed. I'm just surprised your brains fit in your head."
"I was fitted with a specially designed compression filter that allows excessive information to lie dormant until I need to access it. It's only the Beta version, so excuse any kinks that may appear. I really can't be held responsible."
"Thanks for the warning." Julie nodded seriously. "I don't know what I'll major in. Maybe psychology? Or English? Not sure. So, are we still in Jamaica Plain?"
"Nope. Now we're in Cambridge. And that," he started, as they turned a corner and went over a bridge, "is the Charles River. This is Memorial Drive, and Harvard Square is right there. We can cut through if you want to see." Julie nodded eagerly. "There's a T stop right here, and it's only a few minutes' walk from my parents' house."
For the first time since the plane had landed, Julie felt excited to be here. The river was gorgeous and dotted with people canoeing and kayaking, their bright vests smattering the water with color. They drove past archways and iron gates, crowded sidewalks, cobbled pathways between buildings, and plenty of shops and restaurants. She liked the busy atmosphere here.
"How far is Whitney? Maybe I could find an apartment around here?"
"Not far on the T. Whitney is in Back Bay which is Boston, not Cambridge, so you'd get off at Hynes. It's right near Berklee College of Music."
"Nice. So if I get hit by an impulse to belt out some Lady Gaga, I'll be able to find some backup singers without any trouble." Julie frowned at Matt's blank look. "Lady Gaga? Atrocious headpieces? Shoulder pads galore? Took the music world by storm a few years ago? Skintight outfights with feathers and leather and buckles, oh my? Nothin'?"
"You lost me," he said. "Well, here we are." Matt pulled the car into the driveway of a large blue-gray house with white trim and black shutters. This side street was lusciously green with trees and flowing gardens, each gorgeous old house nestled behind a fence or an evergreen hedge. It was hard to believe that they were just off a main road, so close to the bustle of Harvard Square. It didn't take an MIT student to see that this was an extremely wealthy neighborhood.
"My mother should be home by now. I know she wanted to be here when you arrived. And my father and Celeste are probably on their way home. He had a meeting at her school."
"Your sister?" Julie guessed.
Matt got out of the car. "Yup. She just turned thirteen. Hope you like take-out for dinner. Nobody here has cooked a real meal in years."
"As long as it's not burritos, I'll be thrilled."
Matt opened the trunk and then stopped. "Julie? I should probably..." His voice trailed off.
"Yeah?" She looked at Matt. "What is it? Is something wrong? I'm mortified. We're having burritos, aren't we?" He shook his head. "Oh. I knew it. Your parents are totally annoyed that I'm getting pushed on them, right? Nobody wants some stranger staying in their house."
"No. Not at all. It's just that Celeste is... " He seemed to struggle to figure out how to say what he wanted. "Well, she's an interesting kid."
"I like interesting," Julie said, pulling a suitcase from the trunk. "I like interesting a lot."
Chapter 2
Julie considered the possibility that she might have walked into a library rather than a residence. The front hall was lined with white shelves that were absolutely packed with books. And not paperback thrillers. This was obviously not a house of casual readers. A small room opened off to the right, where a piano took up most of the sunlit space. She followed Matt to the left into the living room and immediately loved the feeling evoked by the decor. Cultural masks and paintings covered the walls, and a globe and a thick world map sat on two end tables that encased a comfortable-looking beige sectional.
Julie couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between this house and her own. She liked her mother's affinity for country plaid, yellow walls and yard sale findings, and the way the house was always orderly and clean. Simple, but homey. But as she looked around this room, Julie had to admit that there was something terribly enticing about the cluttered mass of unique statues, bold, patterned pillows and the general aura of academia.
"Matt? Is that you? Did you find her?" A voice rang out from another room and was followed by the sound of quick footsteps. Julie looked up at the relieved face of the woman who entered the room. "Julie Seagle! Are you the spitting image of your mother or what? I'm Erin Watkins. Welcome. Thank goodness your mother was able to reach me." She crossed the floor and shook Julie's hand.
"Thank you so much for helping me out. It's really nice of you to let me stay here tonight. I'm going to look for an apartment first thing in the morning."
Erin was nearly as tall as Matt, and Julie could feel the bones in Erin's cool hand. Good Lord, the woman was thin. Not unhealthy-looking, but certainly delicate.
Erin waved her hand and then brushed back a stray hair from her thick, tightly pinned bun. "I'd do anything for Kate, so you're more than welcome to stay until you find a place. Speaking of your mother, you should let her know that you're safe. Let me take you upstairs and show you your room, and then you can call her."
"I'll show her." Matt walked briskly over to Julie's bags.
"Nonsense. I know you have schoolwork to do. I'll tell you when your father and Celeste get home with dinner. Julie, follow me." Erin moved smoothly through the living room and picked up one of Julie's suitcases. "I hope you'll be comfortable here. I know you were expecting to move into your apartment today, but at least you're not at a hotel."