She sniffed.
And still I just stood there, really wanting to go to her but just… not able to. My eyes caught onto the clock on the stove, seeing the 7:25 and sighing. “I’m not going to work afterward. If you don’t have plans, we can go do something.”
My little sister sighed right back. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I asked her to be sure.
She nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
Pressing my lips together, I scooped the rest of the oatmeal into my mouth as I grabbed a bottled iced coffee from the fridge. Next, I filled up a water bottle from the filter and had just picked up my purse when Lily muttered, “Do you have your pepper spray?”
I froze. Then I glanced inside my bag to make sure it was in there. “I’ve got it,” I told her, looking down at the gift she had bought me for my birthday last year.
I turned toward her, holding my things in my hand, and found her still facing the sink. I wanted to give her a hug. I really wanted to give her a hug, or get one in return, but I was going to need all my bravery for later.
“I need to go, but have a good day at school, okay? Thank you for breakfast.”
“Good luck.”
I smiled at the back of her head and held my things to my chest, then turned around. I had barely made it down the hall when my little sister called out, “I love you, Luna! I’m not mad at you! I just want you to be okay!”
I bit my lip and shook my head, relief flooding through me. “I know. I love you too! Don’t worry about me and have a good day at school!” I called back, making sure not to let my voice betray me.
I got my keys and headed outside, trying my best to ignore the way my heart beat steadily but a little faster than normal. I had barely locked the front door and sat on the top step when a familiar yellow pickup pulled up in front of my house. According to my G-Shock, right on time.
I didn’t wonder how Ripley had known my address, but I had figured he would have asked for it if he needed it. A few of my coworkers had visited since I’d bought my place, and the Coopers of course knew where I lived. At just around fifteen hundred square feet—and with the price tag that had come from it being a foreclosure—it was perfect for me… and the one sibling I still had. It had needed a stupid amount of cosmetic work when I bought it, and even after so long, it still did. What had been worked on, I had done mostly by myself and with a little help from my sisters, friends, and their families. It was getting to where I wanted it.
At the rate I was going, it was more than likely going to be a couple more years before it was the house that I’d envisioned, and only for a second did I wonder what Ripley thought of the old bungalow.
Then I decided that he probably didn’t care and might have not even really looked at it in the first place, even if it was possible to ignore the dark purple house with medium gray and white accents and trim.
It had taken me months to change the color from the faded white and blue it had originally been, but every time I pulled into my driveway, seeing it… it just made me happy. And if something made you happy, it was worth the cost and effort every single time.
As I walked down the steps of my stoop and then the pathway that my best friend’s grandpa had helped me redo before starting on the painting, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder at my house.
And I smiled.
I was so lucky.
I was so damn lucky I forgot how lucky I was.
Rip was looking at me through the passenger window as I walked up to his truck door and opened it.
“Morning,” I greeted him as I got inside and shut it behind me.
He was still watching me as I pulled the seat belt across my body and clipped it in, noticing the black jacket on the seat between us. Only then did he say, “Morning.”
Setting my purse and drinks on the floor, I slid my hands down my thighs to smooth my black skirt down and then shot him a smile. I had to play it easy and cool and not at all like I’d woken up that morning on the verge of praying for a natural disaster that wouldn’t let us make it to San Antonio. “Want me to navigate us or do you know how to get there?” I asked as I finally got a chance to look my boss over.
And look him over I did.
The first thing I noticed was the thin black and white scarf he had on.
In June.
Then the second thing I noticed was the freaking rest of him.
I had warned him we were going to a funeral, but I hadn’t been ready for… this. Ripley dressed up like I had never, ever seen him before. In a charcoal gray button-up shirt beneath the scarf wrapped around his neck, his eyes seemed even brighter than usual. I glanced at his shiny black dress shoes—shoes that looked brand new. Black dress pants that looked brand new. I looked down at the black jacket between us and thought it looked like it had never been worn either.
Forcing my gaze back to his face, I took in his close shave, and the way his short hair was styled gave me the idea that he’d slicked something through it that made it look more controlled than normal.
Lucas Ripley had dressed up.
And if they were there, I was taking him to see the most awful people I had ever met in my life.
Probably.
More than likely.
Who was I kidding. This was me. It would be my luck ten times over that all of them would be there. Even my older brother. Why not.
I didn’t have the same hair color or length anymore, but they would know who I was.
I could do this. I would do it. It was only a couple of hours.
I needed to get it together before he figured out just how much I didn’t want this to happen. So I said the first words that came to mind as I sat there. “You look dapper.” Which was an understatement, but I didn’t need to cake it on.
How did he respond? By reaching up to pull at the collar of his shirt, digging beneath the scarf he had on, tugging at it and muttering, “I feel like a dumbass.”
I surprised myself when I laughed. “You don’t look like one.” My smile wasn’t forced or fake either. “You look great,” I told him.
What did he do? He rolled his eyes, but I didn’t miss the way his cheeks seemed to get a little pink. I didn’t know somebody was bashful.
“So, GQ? Need me to navigate us or do you know how to get into the city?”
He rolled his eyes again as he put the truck into drive. “I know how to get there.” And if I thought he muttered, “Unfortunately,” then I would have been right.
* * *
Neither one of us talked much over the next three hours.
Rip had put the radio on the oldies station, which had made me smile while I looked out the window because that was the last thing I would have figured he’d listen to. I’d caught him humming along to a few songs, and that had made me smile even more. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. I played solitaire on my phone until I got nauseous, then played it again once the worst of it had passed.
But as the minutes went by, and then an hour, then another hour and another hour…
My nausea got worse for reasons that had nothing to do with looking at a tiny screen in a moving car; all the breathing exercises in the world didn’t do anything. Neither did closing my eyes and telling myself that I needed to buck up and that I could handle whatever happened. All the optimism I’d felt that morning had slowly melted away as the reality of where I was going became more and more present.
The truck wasn’t going to break down and end up making me miss the funeral.
I was going and it was happening.
But I was going to survive it, and that was the most important part.
We drove further along into the city and slowly I took in a lot of things that were familiar from when I had lived in San Antonio. The city had changed a lot over the last almost ten years but not enough to be completely different from where I had grown up.
I hadn’t planned on ever coming back.
I turned on the navigation app on my phone and put in the address that the lawyer had sent me. The app said we had twelve minutes left to travel. The service was supposed to start in twenty, so the arrival couldn’t have been any better.
I laced my fingers together and stuck them in between my thighs. I kind of wished I had paid more attention to Mr. Cooper when he recited an Our Father when he was riled up and needed to calm down.