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Chapter 6
“Oh my God. Oh my God,”Poppy chanted as she paced back and forth next to the car, fanning herself with her hands, then shaking them out beside her like she’d lost feeling in both of her arms. “Your friend’s parents own the literal house next door? A fifty-two-million-dollar megamansion? Are you kidding me? And we’re going to sleep there?”
“How in the world do you know how much it costs?” I asked.
Poppy snapped her head toward me, peering at me through narrowed eyes. “Did you not hear everything I just said in the car?” She whipped one of her arms around like a fan blade. “I follow it all. The house next door was previously owned by Rob Lowe. He sold it not too long ago, then it just sold again. It’s a colonial mansion, and it’s breath-tak-ing-ly beautiful. Not only have I seen the photos on the Zillow listing, but I’ve also searched for the aerial photos. This is so epic! I don’t know what to do.” She turned in a circle and began to mutter to herself. “I’m staying at Rob Lowe’s house. I’m staying in his mansion. How did this happen?”
Annabel came to the rescue, gently gripping her sister by the shoulders and guiding her toward the coffee shop as we began to walk. “Just put one foot in front of the other, and you’ll be fine,” Annabel soothed. “It’s all going to be okay.”
“You can play low-key all you want, but I know you,” Poppy piped over her shoulder at Annabel. “There’s no way that this is not affecting you. You can act like you’re too cool for school, but you’re freaking out inside just like me. You might not be an Anglophile, but you went through a primo Goth retro childhood phase. There was many a late night that you spent pining over St. Elmo’s Fire and TheBreakfast Club wishing like hell you’d been alive in the eighties. As much as I wanted to be British, you wanted to be Molly Ringwald.”
“I wanted to date Molly Ringwald,” Annabel corrected, her mouth quirking. “There’s a difference.”
“Ha. Keep telling yourself that.” We entered the small shop and got in line. “You were just as affected by the cuteness of young Rob Lowe as I was. You crush on both men and women, so don’t lie. And we’re going to his house! We’re going to touch things he touched! Like the cupboards and the faucets and…and the doorknobs.”
Annabel giggled. “You’re going to stroke the cupboards, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Poppy stated with certainty. “And the countertops and maybe the bathtub.”
“Okay, the bathtub just makes it creepy.” Annabel made a face.
“You’re right. Instead of stroking it, I’ll just take an actual bath.” Poppy snickered. “Then I can swish my whole body around.” She did a few hip curls while waving her arms.
“Unfortunately,” I said, “new owners who are that wealthy probably update the everyday stuff.” I mean, I didn’t know that many millionaires, but that sounded correct.
“There are pictures,” Poppy said. “We can cross-reference. That way, I’ll know exactly what’s new and what’s old.”
Yasmine seemed to be taking all the banter in stride, grinning as she ordered her latte.
Once everybody had their coffee, we made our way back outside.
Back in the car, Poppy announced, “Okay, new plan. We’re gunning it all the way there without stopping. Sixteen hours in one go.” She held up a single finger. “Before our final destination was announced, I thought maybe we’d do it more leisurely, but that’s not the case anymore, so be prepared to pee in a can. This bus is not stopping.”
“Nobody’s peeing in a can,” I corrected. “We don’t even have one. Plus, you have to stop and get gas along the way.”
Poppy pulled out of the parking lot, shaking her head. “If you have to pee before we need gas, we’re not stopping. I have a ton of snacks packed, including several water bottles. That’ll get us through the day. If we need potty receptacles, we have them.”
I chuckled. “I know you’re not being serious. There’s no way we’re peeing in a bottle.”
“My car, my rules.” She pulled out onto the street.
_______
“This burger is sooo good,” Poppy moaned around her first bite. “I thought I might die of starvation.”
“Starvation was your plan, not ours,” Annabel said as she bit into her patty melt.
We were in a booth at a roadside diner outside Redding, California, which was a little over halfway to Montecito. We’d been in the car a full nine hours.
“Yum, you’re right,” Annabel said. “This is excellent. Super soaked with grease, just the way I like it.”
“Your snacks were delicious,” I told Poppy as I took a bite of my own burger. “But an apple, a granola bar, and a handful of dried apricots do not a meal make.”
“Okay,” Poppy said around another mouthful, “I admit not stopping to eat was an unrealistic goal, but we’ve made great time, so hitting up this burger joint was indeed a good choice.”
“It was the only choice if you didn’t want us to gnaw off our arms,” Annabel stated. “Which would’ve derailed the mission and messed up your car.” She took another bite, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
I glanced at Yasmine, who sat next to me. She was looking at her phone. “Has Kelly replied yet?” Kelly was the friend of a friend who was allowing us to stay in her parents’ multimillion-dollar mansion. Apparently, Kelly’s parents were vacationing in the South of France, as the rich did, and she’d said they wouldn’t mind.
