Free Julia's Journey (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 2) by T.I. Lowe

is.” She shrugs her shoulder
dismissively.
    “The big deal is that those words are how I feel about you.
I want to exhort you, comfort you, and watch over you. Don’t you want the same
for me? Isn’t this what we’ve always done for each other?” I brush her silky
hair away from her face before resting my hand on the side of her neck. I can
feel the quick flutter of her pulse against my palm.
    “Yeah? I guess…” She doesn’t sound so sure and this stings—I’m not gonna lie.
    “God created us to be there for one another and to glorify
Him with our lives. We’re not meant to live alone.”
    She shakes her head in confusion and brushes my hand away.
“But I’m an island.”
    I ease closer and duck my head so I can meet her eyes.
“Julia, no one can be an island and survive.” I know she’s about to rebuke me,
so I gently hold up her shaking hands between us. “You’re not surviving,” I
whisper.
    I keep hold of one of her hands and lead her past the church
and to the Granary Burial Ground next door. I had planned to explore it and
take some photos, especially the grave of Paul Revere, but she’s
uncharacteristically quiet. So, hanging around in a graveyard doesn’t seem the
best of ideas.
    “Come on, Thorton . Let’s track
down that secret tavern. With all this walking, I’ve worked up a mean
appetite.”
    “Okay,” she mumbles. I can tell from her voice, she’s
somewhere else. I just wish she would let go of whatever’s got ahold of her and
live in this moment with me.
    After snooping around the streets for a while, we nearly
miss the mysterious tavern. It’s tucked away down an alley. Man, I feel like a
kid on a quest and let out a chuckle of excitement when we step up to the
entrance. The door is guarded by two enormous iron gas lanterns on each side.
    “You think they will let us in?” Julia asks, not very sure.
    “It’s a public establishment,” I reassure her as I push the
heavy wood door open. It’s dark inside and is fairly quiet.
    “We’re going to get kicked out of here,” she mutters near my
ear, tickling my neck with her breath.
    “Stop worrying so much. I got this.” I pull her in and greet
the bartender with a friendly head nod. He’s a typical looking bartender with
longish dark hair and gnarly tattoos.
    “ You’s two lost?” He scoffs.
    “Told you,” Julia whispers.
    I pat her arm and head over. “Nah, man. We’re just hungry.”
    “Then sit down,” he says to us then yells, “Sully, you got customahs .”  
    We claim a booth near the back corner of the tavern.
    “This place is tight,” I say as we look around at all of the
history memorabilia covering the walls. A lot of old documents, some framed
soldiers’ coats, and a super amazing display of antique weapons from the
American Revolution cover an entire wall.
    Julia’s looking around, seeming to be impressed too. “I hear
the letter R is banned in these parts,” she mock whispers.
    There’s playfulness in her voice that sets me at ease. She
somehow wandered back to me while we were wandering the streets. Some of the
tension in my shoulders ebbs.
    “Let’s test your theory on our waiter.” I get the words out
just as an ample dude shuffles over, looking bored and a bit annoyed with us.
    “ You’s two lost?” He repeats the same question as the bartender.
    “No, sweetie. Say, is this considered a bar or a restaurant?” Julia asks,
looking all sweet and innocent. I noticed she put a little emphasis on the R’s.
    “Bah. Whatcha want?” He doesn’t
seem fazed by her charms.
    “Let’s see… Do you prefer the chowder or the bacon wrapped
scallops?” Julia continues with the R test. I wonder how she even knows they
have this. There’s no menu in sight.
    “ Chowdah .”
    “We’ll start with a cup each of chow-da- er ,”
I say, trying not to smile too much. All of a sudden I have such a strong
desire to lose my R’s too.
    “Do you know how many calories there are per serving?”