When Lightning Strikes [COMPLETED]

Chapter 7: Island Paradise

As a whole, the town seemed like live pictures from a home and garden magazine. It was perfect. It felt unreal.

As a child she didn’t noticed it. But now, coming from a big city, it was as if every bench, plant, and walkway was placed just so. It was beautiful but sterile. Atlanta may not be perfect, but its grit was real.

People walking down the road watched their car as it went by and smiled or waved when they recognized her father. Julie remembered that her mother had introduced her to everyone she had met in town and on the beach. She’d forgotten that everyone knew each other here.

They turned away from the main part of town and headed along the main road. It stretched the entire length of the inside of the island, if she remembered right. The park they passed was dead center, where the long slash of land widened in the middle.

Along the way, neighborhoods with gated entrances ranged from Victorian to modern in theme. It was hard to see any homes. Trees and gardens obscured most of them, and it was mostly just rooflines.

After a few miles, they reached the end of the road. A turnabout planted with more trees and flowers stood sentinel in front of the last neighborhood. They turned before they got to that one. She recognized the gate from when she stayed as a child. It looked like a miniature turrets made of wood shingles and had yellow roses climbing across the iron grates.

This neighborhood was full of craftsman style homes. Every home was brick or stone, with wood shutters, shingles, eyebrow windows, and large, graceful front porches. They turned into one of the first ones, and Julie was a little disappointed that they weren’t directly along the beachfront.

Their new home was river stone and shingles. It had a wide porch surrounded by roses and lantana. There was an inviting wooden swing with red cushions that was large enough for lounging on. One side was rounded to mimic a tower. It was beautiful.

She hated it.

“I’m going for a walk.” She got out and slammed the car door. She left her bag in the car.

Jamie looked at her groggily as he woke up. Her dad nodded at her, his eyes meeting hers in the rear view mirror. He looked tired.

“You can check out the house and your room later. Do you think you can find your way back here?” her mom said with a false cheer. Her hands were opening and closing like she wanted to reach out for a hug.  

Julie stared at her and shrugged. How lost could she get? She turned before Mom could pounce.

All the fight was taken out of her on the car ride over. The apathy from earlier had returned while she slept. She didn’t feel like doing much of anything, especially unpacking her bag in her new room or hanging around her family. There was a path to the beach at the end of the road.

Julie started down the sidewalk. Gazing at the houses as she went, she was mesmerized by the yards. Each one blended into and complemented each other. The pretty houses blended into the background, letting the yards have center stage. It was weird. In Atlanta it felt like people focused on the size and details of the house and, as an afterthought, threw some shrubs in the ground. Many neglected to think about how a shabby yard detracted from a mansion.