Page 11 of Dear Ripley

I laughed. Maybe she had mastered adulthood. All I knew was she was living the life I’d been certain I wanted when I was a kid—get up, eat chocolate cake, go get pastries. The dream. “Sounds good.”

“Unless you want to finish Edith’s bouquet first?”

“No, no, we’re good. I told her I’d have it by four—hold on. How’d you know I’d be working on it immediately? I have other orders to do today, you know?”

She sighed heavily. “Yes, of course I know that. I also know that the minute anything even close to Alicia-related comes up, you’re going to need to get that out of your system. It’s why you’ve been sneaking around the place all week, acting like you don’t want to see her, even though we both know you do. If you didn’t actually want to see her, you wouldn’t be looking for her.”

I spluttered. “I’m just looking out in case she’s there. So I can avoid her.”

“No, you’re not. But, you know, if that’s what you need to tell yourself, sure. You’re watching out for her so you can avoid her.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That didn’t sound sincere at all.”

“Good. It wasn’t supposed to. Also, I’m here.”

I looked up as she appeared at the door, the little bell tinkling as she entered.

She smiled, throwing her arms out in a circle and twirling. “Tell me how great I look.”

“You look great,” I replied, taking in the very loud polka dot red dress, turquoise striped knee socks, and Vans.

“I know.” She pointed to the heather and pale pink roses I had laid out in front of me. “Nice choice. Very Harlow.”

I scrunched my nose. “Very Harlow from eight years ago, but the arrangement will be beautiful, so hopefully it’ll be fine.”

Morgan laughed. “People don’t changethat muchin eight years.”

I thought about arguing with her, pointing out how much I’d changed, but, when it came down to it, I was still the kid panicking that I was going to see Alicia and not knowing what to do with that. I wanted to believe people changed in eight years—no, Ididbelieve they changed. I just also wondered about all the ways we stayed the same.

“Okay,” Morgan said, coming over to guide me away from the flowers when she realized I’d zoned out on her. “Let’s leave these until later. Plenty of time, and you’re going to get nothing done in this state. Let’s get you a pastry instead. And me. I want pastries.”

I laughed, feeling like I was coming back to myself—the eight-years-later version of myself—and happily went with her. Determined to put Alicia out of my mind as much as possible, and enjoy this final day without her in Jackson Point.

Chapter 5

Alicia

Jackson Point hadn’t changed much. I supposed that was how it worked with things like towns. The changes were subtle. They weren’t the kinds of things that stuck out immediately. Main Street still looked the same, the houses that lined my parents’ street were all still standing, a lot of the people I’d grown up around were still there, still eager to chat the minute we stepped out of the house.

For the things that changed, you had to look a little deeper. Main Street was still the same, but some of the stores were different. The houses still stood, but yards and sidings had been updated. People still wanted to talk, but the questions they asked, the way they looked at me—those things had changed.

And the one thing that had changed the most, the one feeling that I couldn’t shake, was the sense that I didn’t belong here. I didn’t know how to be here anymore, especially without Harlow. When she’d told me she’d booked to arrive on the first of the month, I’d foolishly believed her. It had never occurred to me to double-check or to ask her to send me a copy of her confirmation email. So, when I’d gone ahead and booked, I’d expected her to be here with me. She’d sounded apologetic when she’d called and realized she was actually arriving on the second, and I wasn’t going to hold it against her, but being in Jackson Point without her felt wrong. She was the whole reason I was here in the first place.

It didn't seem to matter how much this place used to be my home, how I’d had dreams of growing up and growing old in it. It didn’t seem to matter that this place had once been Ripley, and Ripley could have been home anywhere. I’d been away a long time and it felt completely different, despite all the ways it had stayed the same.

Still, at least it was only one day without Harlow. And I was happy I’d get to be there, at the airport with her mom, welcoming her home in just a few hours. No matter how bad being in Jackson Point felt, it would be better with her in it.

And it wasn’t as though the place wasn’t cute. It had always been clear why the spot was so popular with tourists and wedding crowds. A gorgeous lighthouse, beautiful coastlines, and an, admittedly, magical center of town. Even with the terror of being back or possibly running into Ripley, I couldn’t deny how cute the place was as I followed my family towards Didi’s Diner.

When we arrived, I paused, looking up at the place. It never changed. Well, it did. It must have. If they never changed anything, it would look rundown. It didn’t, though. It looked almost exactly the same as the last time I’d seen it. The same neon pink signage and flowers outside. The same bustle from within, despite the fact that it was after ten and the breakfast rush had passed, the lunch rush not due for another few hours. And, behind the counter, the same server as ever.

My mom slipped her arm through mine, squeezing me supportively. “Ready?”

I swallowed down everything that told me I wasn’t and nodded. “Can’t wait for those pancakes.”

Joel laughed. “Nothing like Abel’s pancakes anywhere else in the world.”

I clung to the familiarity of my family, to the ease of slipping into the teasing sibling-like roles we had, and laughed. “How would you know? Have you tried every pancake in the world?”

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