Swinging on a Star by Janice Thompson Read Free Book Online Page A

growled at him under her breath. When we paused at the end of the driveway to wait on traffic, Brock looked my way. “Just one question. What are Savvy Seniors?”
    I smiled at the funny look on his face. “It’s a seniors group at St. Patrick’s. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Rosa is Catholic.”
    “Yeah. I didn’t know there were that many saints, but I think I’ve heard her calling on at least a dozen since I got here.”
    I laughed. “Yeah, that’s Aunt Rosa. She and Uncle Laz attend St. Patrick’s. The rest of us are Methodist, except D.J. and his family. They’re Full Gospel.”
    “Full Gospel? As opposed to half-full?” Brock had a good laugh at that one. “Seriously,” he said when the laughter stopped, “I don’t have a clue what that means.”
    “Sure you do,” Rob interjected from the backseat. “I took you to church with me as a kid. Don’t you remember?”
    “Ooohhh.” Brock nodded. “Got it. Lots of ‘amens’ and even a few gymnastics, if memory serves me correctly. Never could figure out what they were all so excited about.”
    “Oh, that’s easy. They’re in love with Jesus.” I closed my eyes after he backed out onto Broadway and barely missed an oncoming car.
    “In love with Jesus.” Brock shifted into drive, then looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Not sure how that’s possible. Last thing I heard, he wasn’t around anymore. Right?”
    “Oh, he’s around. Trust me.” I stopped right there, finding it a nice stopping point. Might give the boy something to chew on. In the meantime, we had an island to see.
    Pointing to the left, I directed Brock south on Broadway, Galveston’s main thoroughfare. I happened to glance across the street at the Burton place and saw Dakota on the roof. What would the kid be doing on the roof? For that matter, why wasn’t he in school like the other kids? Something was definitely fishy here.
    Hmm. Better not mention any of this to my guests. Didn’t want to borrow trouble, as Aunt Rosa was prone to say.
    As we headed down Broadway, I turned up my radio station. Though I’d never really listened to country music before meeting D.J.—the Christian station being my music of choice—I’d taken to occasionally listening to a local country station just for fun. Turned out country-western music had more themes than just the usual “Let’s get drunk and cheat on each other.” In fact, I’d discovered some heartrending songs filled with truth and emotion.
    However, as the music began to play, I couldn’t help but notice the look on Brock’s face.
    “What?” I asked. “Don’t you like country music?”
    He shook his head. “We don’t get a lot of this out in L.A.”
    “Humph.” I thought about it a moment before responding. “You don’t know what you’re missing!” I turned up the volume, singing along with a great Taylor Swift song.
    Brock leaned back against his seat and rolled his eyes. “So, tell me about your island,” he said, his voice rising above the radio.
    “Oh, sure.” I turned down the music, doing my best to focus. “Our street was hit pretty hard during the storm, but not as bad as the Strand.”
    “The Strand? What’s that?”
    “Oh, the best street in town, next to the seawall. Turn left at the next light and I’ll show you.”
    He did as instructed. We passed downtown, finally reaching the quaint, historic cobblestone street I loved so much. How many hours had I spent here as a teen? Hundreds? Thousands? “Oh, wow.” Brock pulled the car off to the side of the road and took it in. “These old buildings are great. They remind me of the storefronts at Universal Studios, where we filmed Once in Manhattan . Very authentic.”
    I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s because they’re real. They’ve been here more than a century. They’ve taken a lot of damage, both in the storm of 1900 and from storms since, but they’re a testament to the strength of the island, still standing