Page 52 of Love Letter Lost
“No buts. Go have fun.” Aunt Jenna made a shooing motion, and I turned to gauge Ridge’s reaction.
“I guess that settles it. Ice cream it is.” Ridge moved towards the door, not waiting for me to follow. I had a sinking feeling that staying to help with setup might be the more enjoyable activity.
I followed Ridge out to the car, hesitating before climbing in.
“Where do you want to go? There are a couple of places by the mall.” Ridge pulled onto the main road and started driving towards University Mall.
“Clarifying question: In your book, does frozen yogurt qualify as ice cream?” I forced enthusiasm into my voice, hoping to lighten the tense atmosphere in the car.
“I think frozen yogurt qualifies.”
We decided on a place and the conversation died, the silence as heavy as concrete. If I was lucky, we would get the ice cream to go and get this outing over with quickly. I would not be the first one to apologize. This wasn’t on me.
Ridge finally let out a breath. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” His tone was clipped and made me question its sincerity.
“Me too.”
We sat in silence a moment longer before my mouth twitched into a sad grin as a memory flashed into my mind. “Is Amber a big enough Jazz fan that you can commit to her?”
Ridge gave a small chuckle before shaking his head. “A lot has changed since high school. My requirements for a future wife have shifted.”
Back in high school, Ridge had gone through an obsession with the Utah Jazz. He watched them every chance he got and swore any girl he pursued would have to be just as committed to the Utah Jazz as he was.
“Apparently.” I had a sinking suspicion that sports interests weren’t the only thing that had changed for him to consider proposing to Amber.
“You know, I’ve never asked Amber if she likes the Jazz.” Ridge continued to chuckle.
The tension in the car had dissipated some, though the doubts from before lingered in my mind.Could I really let Ridge pursue a girl so obviously wrong for him?I wasn’t sure I had much of a choice. “In some ways, high school feels like yesterday, and in others, it feels like an eternity ago.”
“Right?” Ridge just shook his head. “I feel so old.”
“Watch it, Grandpa.” I nudged his arm. “If I remember correctly, I’m a few months older than you.”
Ridge just shrugged. “Well, if the geriatric shoe fits…”
If he hadn’t been driving, I would have slugged him. Instead, I settled for a death glare.
“Do you remember all those trips we took to the rock?” Ridge asked, changing the subject.
“How could I forget? Kyle begged to go every chance he got.” The rock was a large boulder in Provo River. The area around the rock was deep enough that you could jump in. Kyle had turned it into a sport, trying to splash people floating the river in inner tubes.
“I remember one time, Kyle splashed this huge, bearded guy. The guy was so mad he got out of the river and chased us all the way back to the car.” Ridge was laughing again.
“I don’t remember that.” My eyebrows pinched together as I thought back to those summers filled with frequent sleepovers at Livvy’s house.
“I don’t think you were there. It was mid-July, and we still hadn’t been to the rock yet. Kyle was dying to get into the water, and I finally agreed after a solid week of him begging to go every day. It took us a good month to get up the guts to go back.”
I laughed, picturing Ridge and Kyle, two strong, buff teenagers, scared to return to their favorite place.
“We had a lot of good times. I never thought they would end,” I said, as we pulled into the parking lot.
“Me neither,” Ridge agreed.
This was my moment. I could tell him about how I’d hated him for so long, but how my view of him had changed and…And what? Ridge was going propose to Amber and then return to Idaho at the end of summer to finish school. Even if Amber wasn’t in the picture, we would still have hundreds of miles between us. Besides, what if we went on that date he’d asked for in his letter, decided we were better off friends, and called it quits? I would have muddied up his relationship with Amber for nothing. In some ways, everything had changed from high school, but really it wasn’t that different. Distance and timing still stood between us. So, I kept quiet, letting Ridge direct the conversation to safer topics that didn’t involve risking heartbreak. Yet, I still felt something splinter with the decision.
Ridge pulled the car into a parking spot, and we climbed out, heading into the shop. I looked around and took in the bright pink and green decor in addition to the flavor options lining one wall. We were the only customers in the store. Grabbing sample cups, I gave the cashier a nod and headed for the soft serve machines, Ridge following behind me.
“Where to start?” I muttered to myself. The flavor options included the classics, chocolate and vanilla, in addition to some more adventurous flavors like lemonade and cotton candy. My eyes landed on cheesecake and brownie batter, and I smiled, knowing I’d found what I wanted.
