Page 19 of Dear Ripley

I turned. Strapped into one of the seats was a vase with a gorgeous arrangement in it. I couldn’t tell the exact colors in the dark light but I didn’t need to to know it was beautiful. I also didn’t need to ask to know where it had come from.

My stomach felt as though it had dropped out of my body again. Some part of me seemed to think she could hear or see me through the flowers. Nonsense, but hadn’t every part of me been nonsensical today?

It didn’t really make sense. Up until a few hours ago, I hadn’t even known Ripley was a florist. I shouldn’t be able to look at a bouquet and just know it was one of hers. I hadn’t spent enough time in the shop to know what her style was. I hadn’t spent enough time around her in the last few years to have any idea what kind of arrangements she made. And she couldn’t be the only florist in Jackson Point.

But I knew it was her. Even if she was one of ten florists in Jackson Point, she’d be the best one. It was just who she was, and she’d always loved flowers. They had always been her dream. Something sad balled up inside me that she’d done it and I’d missed it all. I buried it deep.

Edith wouldn’t think of the potential awkwardness of buying Harlow flowers from my ex—why should she? She wasn’t required to. But she would go to the best florist in Jackson Point, the one she’d known for as long as we’d been alive.

And Ripley would create the best bouquets. It was just who she was. When she did something, she gave it her all, and she worked hard until she mastered it. I knew just how much of a master she must be. It was obvious in the store, and it was obvious in the bouquet strapped into Edith’s back seat.

“They’re beautiful,” I said, pushing down thoughts about how talented Ripley was and how much I’d missed out on in her life. We were divorced. I wasn’t entitled to any of it. “Harlow’s going to love them.”

“I think so too,” Edith replied, her voice hushed and a sneaky grin on her face as if sharing a dastardly secret nobody else could know about.

We made it to the airport without further incident, and with me forcing myself not to look back at the flowers Ripley had expertly arranged, to not think about her fingers being on those stems, and how easy it would be to run my fingers up them, chasing the lingering feeling of her.

I was ridiculous.

Luckily, Edith took the flowers herself, not asking me to hold them for her. I wasn’t sure whether I’d be able to hand them over to Harlow if she did. I’d had so much of Ripley for so long, and yet, some silly, irritating part of me still wanted to cling to all the little parts of her I could get at.

We stood where my family had been waiting for me yesterday, grinning excitedly as people began descending the stairs.

It didn’t take long for Harlow to appear. Edith squealed excitedly when she did, causing me to laugh. The relief of seeing her was exactly what I needed. I’d wanted to talk to her all day, but, since she was in the middle of her journey, I couldn’t bother her. Nor did I want to worry her with myhung up on my ex, tell me to get over itdrama. It was just shock, nothing real.

Harlow reached her hand towards me as she hugged her mother, and we shared a smile over Edith’s shoulder.

A million things about being back might feel wrong, but being here for Harlow absolutely didn’t. For the first time since I’d agreed to come back, it made actual, solid sense.

She let go of Edith and pulled me into a tight hug. “Why do you look like shit?”

I laughed into her shoulder. “Nice to see you too. So glad I came all this way for you.”

“Thank you for being here. I know it’s not easy.” She held me tighter, holding me together through the onslaught of all the reasons being here wasn’t easy. “But that doesn’t totally explain why you look like shit.”

“I ran into Ripley.” The words came out as a whisper, something I needed to keep between the two of us. If other people heard, it became real, it put conversations I didn’t want to have on the table.

“Already?” She pulled back, her eyebrows raised. “You don’t hang around, do you?”

I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose.Somebodydidn’t think to tell me she owns a flower shop in town.”

She winced and subtly gestured to the flowers Edith was still holding. “You went to get those?”

I shook my head. “No. Great minds think alike. Apparently.”

“Fools never differ,” she said, a smile lighting her face.

“Really so glad I changed up my whole life to be here for you.”

She laughed, stepping back to draw her mom into the group. “You love me really, and you know it.”

“Of course I do. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Chapter 8

Ripley

Iusually liked Tuesdays. It was my day off. But, it turned out, a day off when you were afraid to leave your house, and, instead, spending the time sitting around agonizing over your ex wasn’t the most fun way to spend a day.

---