Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
T he Sand Dollar Café bustled quietly with the familiar ebb and flow of late morning life in Periwinkle Shores. The air smelled of cinnamon rolls, coffee beans, and the faint salty tang that drifted in whenever the door swung open.
The café had a mix of tables, chairs and two sofas, making the place seem more like someone’s home than a restaurant. At this hour, the morning rush had thinned to the usual locals—the kind of crowd where everyone knew everyone’s name and at least pretended they didn’t overhear the conversations happening two tables away.
Lucy Adams sat by the window, her favorite spot. She liked the way the sunlight pooled on the tabletop, turning her open notebook into something that seemed almost promising. Her pen, however, remained still. Her mind was everywhere except on the story she was supposed to be writing. While many authors used a computer to write their books, Lucy loved putting everything down on paper, at least in the process of first draft brainstorming.
Across the table, her older sister Rachel cradled a mug of coffee with one hand and bounced Everly lightly on her knee with the other. The toddler’s giggles were soft and melodic, a sweet backdrop to the café’s quiet hum. Rachel looked as she always did—steady, tired, and effortlessly maternal. Her curly auburn ponytail was coming loose, a few wisps framing her face as she pressed a kiss to Everly’s head.
On Lucy’s right, Hannah, the youngest of the three, sat curled up like a cat, fingers wrapped tightly around her oversized mug of hot chocolate—topped with a mountain of whipped cream that she was working her way through with relish. Her honey-blonde hair hung in soft waves around her shoulders, and her wide brown eyes glimmered with the same innocent excitement she’d carried since childhood.
“Have you heard?” Hannah’s voice dropped to a hushed, conspiratorial tone as she leaned forward, practically vibrating in her seat. “Romy Kingsbury is back.”
Lucy froze, her pen slipping from her fingers and hitting the table with a soft clink. “What?”
Rachel looked up, her eyebrows furrowing as she glanced between Hannah and Lucy. “Romy Kingsbury? Are you sure?”
Hannah nodded, brushing at the whipped cream on her nose as though this were the most normal thing in the world. “I heard Mrs. Baxter talking about it at the market. She told Mrs. Greely—loud enough for everyone in the cereal aisle to hear—that Romy’s aunt asked her to move in with her. You know, the house up on Cliff Road.”
Lucy’s heart raced, her fingers curling around her coffee mug to steady herself. Romy Kingsbury. She hadn’t heard that name spoken out loud in years, but it still held weight, like a stone dropped into the center of her thoughts. Romy, who had once been her other half, the girl who had filled Lucy’s high school years with reckless laughter and late-night confessions. Romy, who had left the Cape with bigger plans than any of them, disappearing into a world Lucy had only ever imagined.
“She moved back here?” Lucy finally managed, her voice quieter than she’d intended.
Hannah nodded again, clearly loving the drama of it all. “Apparently, she got tired of trying to make a go of it in Manhattan. Remember she wanted to be a big movie star? Mrs. Baxter said she just moved in yesterday.”
“Being an actor is not the same thing as being a movie star, Hannah. Romy wanted to be a serious actor,” Lucy said, suddenly irritated.
Hannah shrugged. “I stand corrected.”
Rachel’s face softened as she shifted Everly on her knee. “It can’t have been an easy thing to do, to come home after going to New York like that, I mean. She probably feels like she failed, but the truth is that most people don’t succeed in that industry.”
Hannah’s expression sobered as she nodded.
Lucy didn’t respond, her thoughts spinning as her sisters continued their conversation around her. Romy Kingsbury. She could still picture her—barefoot on the beach, jeans rolled up to her knees, dark curls wild in the wind as she dared Lucy to jump off the marina pier first. Romy had always been the brave one, the reckless one. The girl who could take on the world and win.
Lucy built a life in Periwinkle Shores, but Romy never returned.
“Do you think she’ll stay for good?” Rachel’s voice broke into Lucy’s thoughts but her question was directed at Hannah.
“I don’t know,” Hannah replied, tilting her head thoughtfully. “But Mrs. Baxter said she got a glimpse of Romy when she stopped in the store. She said she looked like she’d lost a lot of weight and looked unhealthy. She told Mrs. Greely that she wouldn’t be at all surprised if we found out that Romy had an eating disorder or something.”
“Two old gossips,” Lucy muttered, surprising herself with the bitterness in her voice. She shook her head. “That sounds exactly like something they’d say.”
Rachel gave Lucy a pointed look. “How would you know?”
Lucy hesitated, fiddling with the edge of her napkin. “I can’t count the number of times over the years those two women stirred up trouble because of their gossip. It’s best to ignore most of what they say and move on. Whatever is going on with Romy is her business and no one else’s,” Lucy warned Hannah.
Hannah looked like she was going to cry, so Rachel tried to lighten the mood.
“Hannah, I’d love for you to make a little bracelet for Everly. Do you have time to do that?”
Hannah’s face lit up.
“Oh, I’d love that. We should think about colors. I think she’d love something pink, don’t you?”
Preoccupied with her interest in Romy’s return, Lucy paid no attention to her sisters’ conversation. Instead, she continued to wonder about her old friend. Romy had been Lucy’s best friend, the one who’d pushed her to dream bigger than their little town allowed.
Romy had always been fearless, unstoppable even. And then she left. Lucy hadn’t blamed her—not out loud, at least. They had promised to stay in touch, to visit, to write. Romy had said she would get a new cellphone, but if she did, Lucy never received the number. The email address Romy had shared bounced back Lucy’s messages as undeliverable. With no way to reach her, Lucy eventually gave up, believing that Romy would reach out in her own time. But she never did.
“Do you think Romy will want visitors?” Rachel asked, her voice soft, as if she were asking for permission.
“Of course she will,” Hannah chirped. “She probably wants to see her old friends.”
Lucy stared into her coffee, her voice quieter. “Or maybe she came back here to be alone.”
That silenced them for a beat. Hannah’s brow furrowed slightly, but Rachel watched Lucy carefully, as though she could see the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. Lucy felt it too—a restless pull toward the past, an ache she didn’t quite know how to name.
“Are you going to go see her?” Rachel asked finally, her tone careful.
Lucy hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “I don’t know.”
She wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet.
The café door swung open, letting in a gust of cool spring air. Lucy looked up instinctively, her heart skipping a beat as if expecting to see Romy herself walk in. Instead, it was an older couple, bundled against the lingering chill, their laughter soft as they made their way to the counter.
“Do you remember the time Romy convinced you to sneak into the lighthouse?” Hannah asked suddenly, her eyes sparkling with the memory.
Rachel laughed softly, adjusting Everly’s jacket as the little girl squirmed in her lap. “I remember hearing about that after the fact. I thought you were going to get caught for sure,” she said, looking at Lucy. “She always had a way of making you believe you could get away with anything.”
Lucy smiled faintly, though her chest ached with the weight of nostalgia. “She was good at that,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
“She made you braver,” Hannah added, her tone wistful.”
Rachel reached across the table, placing a hand over Lucy’s. “Maybe she’s coming back for a reason. Maybe it’s time for all of us to reconnect.”
Lucy didn’t respond, her gaze drifting out the window, watching people going about their day. She wanted to believe Rachel was right, but the unspoken truths between her and Romy felt like a barrier too thick to break.
Hannah’s voice broke the silence. “We should do something for her. Like a welcome back gift or a dinner. Something to show her she’s not alone.”
“Let’s see if she wants visitors first,” Lucy said quietly, her tone firm but not unkind. “Sometimes people need space before they’re ready to talk.”
Rachel and Hannah exchanged a glance but didn’t press further. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, the tension easing as they shared laughter and stories about Everly’s latest antics. But Lucy’s mind remained elsewhere, caught in the pull of the past and the uncertainty of what Romy’s return might mean for all of them.
As the sisters finished their drinks and prepared to leave, Lucy couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers she sought were waiting on Cliff Road. And no matter how much she tried to resist, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away for long.
Lucy watched as Libby Matthews emerged from the kitchen, her silver hair caught up in its usual messy bun, flour dusting the front of her apron. The café owner had been a constant in their lives since before their mother passed, always ready with a warm cinnamon roll and a sympathetic ear. Even now, Libby moved through the café with the same grace she'd had when Lucy and her sisters were younger, stopping to chat with regulars and topping off coffee cups with practiced ease.
"You girls heading out?" Libby asked, approaching their table. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at Everly, who reached for her with chubby hands. "And how's my favorite little customer today?"
"All smiles," Rachel answered, letting Libby scoop up the toddler for a quick cuddle. "Your vanilla scone was a big hit."
"Just like your mama," Libby said, bouncing Everly gently. “Elizabeth could never resist my scones either." She glanced at the jar of sea glass that sat on the café's front counter—a tribute to their mother that had been there since she passed. The morning sun caught the worn pieces of blue and green glass, casting small pools of colored light across the counter's surface.
Lucy smiled, remembering countless mornings spent beachcombing with her mother and sisters, searching for the perfect pieces of sea glass to add to their collection. Elizabeth Haines Adams had turned their treasure hunts into an art form, teaching them to spot the subtle glint of glass among the shells and stones. "Some people see broken pieces," she would say, "but we know better. We see the beauty in what the ocean has polished smooth."
Hannah stood, gathering her things. "I should get home. I promised Mrs. Peterson I'd have her earrings ready by this afternoon."
"And I need to get this little one down for her nap," Rachel added, taking Everly back from Libby.
Lucy began to pack up her notebook, but Libby's hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Stay a minute?" the older woman asked softly. "I just pulled a fresh batch of those chocolate chip cookies you love."
After her sisters left, Lucy settled back into her chair, watching as Libby returned with two cookies and a fresh cup of coffee. The café had emptied out, save for Old Joe reading his newspaper in the corner and Sarah Miller grading papers at her usual spot by the bookshelf.
"So," Libby said, sliding into the chair across from Lucy, "Romy's back."
Lucy shouldn't have been surprised that Libby knew. The older woman had a way of keeping track of everyone in town, not through gossip like Mrs. Baxter, but through the quiet observation of someone who had spent decades watching people come and go through her café doors.
"Seems that way," Lucy replied, breaking off a piece of cookie.
"You know," Libby said thoughtfully, "sometimes people need to leave to figure out where they belong. Your mother understood that better than most." She glanced again at the jar of sea glass. "She always said the best pieces were the ones that traveled the farthest before washing up on our shore."
Lucy felt her throat tighten at the memory. Her mother had been gone for years now, but moments like this made it feel like yesterday. "I just don't know if I'm ready to see her," she admitted quietly.
Libby reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Then take your time, dear. The tide brings things back when they're ready to return."
Lucy nodded, managing a small smile. Outside, the spring breeze carried the sound of distant waves, a constant reminder of the rhythms that governed their little coastal town. Whether she was ready or not, Romy Kingsbury was part of those rhythms once again.