Free The Beach House by Georgia Bockoven

true,” Beverly said, fingering her overprocessed blond hair as if checking to make sure it was still there. “I think it’s charming that Janice is excited about being here.”
    Tracy looked at Janice. “ Charming ,” she said in a singsong voice. “See what I mean?”
    Margaret grabbed a garment bag from the trunk. “As soon as we get this unloaded why don’t we all go down to the beach? Dinner won’t be ready for another hour.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t have made dinner,” Beverly said. “We could have—”
    â€œIt’s only pot roast, potatoes, and carrots.”
    â€œI told Janice we could have Mexican,” Tracy said. “She’s never had real Mexican food.” She might as well let everyone know how things were going to be this year right from the start. No way was she going to let the others push her into doing things she didn’t want to do or make her go places she didn’t want to go. This was her vacation, too. And for once she was going to spend it the way she wanted.
    â€œTomorrow,” Beverly said, giving Tracy a silencing look.
    â€œSorry,” Tracy said to Janice. “It looks like you’ll just have to wait.” An idea struck. “But then I don’t see why we couldn’t go by ourselves.” Even though she was still pissed about the car her mother had rented—it was as big as a goddamned boat and was like having a sign that said “Old People on Board”—it was her only way out of there.
    â€œThat’s okay,” Janice said quickly. “I don’t mind. I told you I’m not all that crazy about Mexican food anyway.”
    Instantly furious that even Janice had let her down, Tracy picked up her suitcases and headed for the house. She was going to have to talk to Janice—again. If they didn’t stick together, she didn’t have a prayer making her plan work. Worst of all, if Janice seemed the least bit willing, they’d be stuck taking Chris with them everywhere they went.
    â€œI thought you said the house was a dump,” Janice said when they were inside. “It’s beautiful.”
    â€œWait till you’ve been here a while.”
    â€œWhy don’t you and Janice take the room where Dad and I usually stay,” Beverly said.
    â€œWhy?” Tracy liked her usual room. It was at the back of the house and stayed dark in the morning. It also had a window she could get in and out of at night without anyone knowing.
    â€œSo Chris doesn’t have to sleep on the sofa again this year.”
    â€œWhere will you and Margaret sleep?”
    â€œIn your old room.” She looked at Margaret. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”
    â€œIt’ll be just like old times, Beverly. You were the best roommate I ever had. And, yes, that includes Kevin.”
    Tracy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She’d never shared a bedroom with anyone in her life. “You expect me and Janice to sleep together in the same bed?”
    â€œIt’s a king-size bed, Tracy,” Beverly said.
    â€œI don’t care. I won’t do it.”
    Janice broke in. “My sister and I sleep together all the time. We have—”
    Tracy shut her down with a look. “If you don’t think it’s a big deal,” she said to Beverly, “then you and Margaret can take that room.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter to me which room we take,” Margaret said.
    Beverly glared at her daughter as she asked Margaret, “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
    â€œPositive.”
    Tracy smiled, satisfied that finally something was going her way. “Now that we have that settled, Janice and I are going to dump this stuff and head down to the beach. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”
    Janice sent a helpless look in Beverly’s direction. “Is there anything you’d like us to do