Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
R omy turned her car onto Main Street, slowing as the familiar sights of Periwinkle Shores came into view. The town had always had a postcard-perfect charm, and even after all these years, that hadn’t changed. Shingled storefronts with painted signs lined the street, their wide windows displaying everything from handwoven baskets to local art. American flags fluttered gently in the sea breeze, and the faint sound of laughter and seagulls carried in the air.
Parking in a small lot near the town square, Romy stepped out of her car, slipping her sunglasses on against the glare of the late-morning sun. She took a deep breath, the salty tang of the ocean filling her lungs. It had been over a decade since she’d walked these streets, but they were as vivid in her memory as they were now before her eyes.
Her first stop was the ice cream parlor on the corner—a small white building with a striped awning and cheerful green shutters. She smiled faintly as she stepped closer, her hand brushing the cool glass of the window. She could almost hear the chatter of her younger self and her friends, Jenna, Lucy, Keri, and Molly, laughing over cones that melted too quickly in the summer heat.
She remembered the vibrant red stools lining the counter inside and the old-fashioned cash register that dinged with every sale. Jenna had always ordered mint chocolate chip, and Lucy had sworn by black raspberry. They’d sit at the little round tables, the laughter between them as endless as the summer days.
Shaking off the memories, Romy turned and continued down the street, her footsteps echoing softly on the cobblestones. The bookstore was next. Its weathered wooden sign swung gently in the breeze, just as it had back then. The scent of aged paper and the quiet hum of conversations from within made her heart ache with nostalgia. She and Lucy used to spend hours here, browsing the shelves and reading passages aloud to each other, their voices hushed like co-conspirators sharing secrets.
But not all the memories were happy ones. At the edge of the square, she stopped in front of the pier that jutted out into the ocean, its wooden beams bleached by sun and salt. Here, her breath caught. She remembered that day—how the water had seemed so inviting, how Jenna’s hesitation had turned into fear as they dared her to jump. The laughter that followed had been hollow, masking a tension they hadn’t yet understood. And then, the stillness of the water when Jenna didn’t surface…
Romy shook her head and walked quickly away, her feet carrying her toward the beach. The lifeguard station came into view, its bright red flag snapping in the breeze. A cluster of children played at the water’s edge, their squeals of delight blending with the crash of the waves. Romy slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the sand, the grains warm beneath her feet despite the early hour.
She walked slowly, letting the cool water lap at her toes. She watched as two little girls, no older than ten, built a sandcastle together, their laughter infectious. They reminded her of herself and Lucy, back when life had been simpler—before choices and consequences had splintered their friendship.
Pausing near the lifeguard station, Romy tilted her face toward the sun, closing her eyes for a moment. She could hear the murmur of vacationers setting up umbrellas and chairs, the rhythmic thump of a beach volleyball game in the distance. Opening her eyes, she turned back toward the town, slipping her shoes back on as she made her way along the boardwalk.
She passed the bakery where she and Lucy used to split warm blueberry muffins on chilly mornings, their fingers sticky with sugar. The little gift shop with the seashell wind chimes still tinkling in the breeze. The more she walked, the more the memories came rushing back, bittersweet and relentless.
She couldn’t understand what Pamela meant about residents leaving and small stores disappearing. Romy passed many that she remembered from her childhood, and much that was unchanged.
What am I missing?
Lost in thought, she heard a voice behind her.
“Romy?”
She turned, her heart skipping as she saw Lucy standing a few feet away. Dressed in a casual blouse and jeans, Lucy’s expression was a mix of surprise and something else—something guarded.
“Lucy,” Romy said, managing a small smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Lucy replied, her tone cautious. “It’s good to see you. Did your aunt tell you I stopped by?”
Romy nodded. “Yeah, sorry I missed you but I’d just arrived and I needed to…”
Lucy quickly interrupted her, “No need to explain. What are you doing in town?”
“Just…taking a walk,” Romy said, gesturing vaguely to the square. “It’s been a long time.”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah. Not much has changed.” She hesitated, then said, “Do you want to grab a coffee?”
Romy studied her for a moment before nodding. “Sure. The Beanery?”
Lucy smiled. “Of course.”
The two of them walked in silence to the small café at the edge of the square. Inside, the smell of espresso and baked goods filled the air, and the familiar warmth of the space wrapped around Romy like a worn sweater. They ordered their drinks and found a small table near the window, the awkwardness between them palpable.
For a while, they sipped their coffee in silence, the hum of the café filling the void. Finally, Lucy broke the quiet.
“It’s strange seeing you here,” she said, her tone neutral. “I mean, after all this time.”
Romy nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup. “I know. It feels strange being here.”
Lucy hesitated, then asked, “Why now? Why come back ?”
Romy sighed, setting her cup down. “I guess…I just needed a change. Things weren’t working out in New York.”
Lucy tilted her head. “And you thought coming back here would help?”
“I don’t know,” Romy admitted. “Maybe…I guess I’ll find out in time. I’m not putting pressure on myself to do anything, I’m just taking it one day at a time. How about you? I’ve kept up with your success. I mean…I don’t know everything, but it seems like you’re doing well with your writing. I always knew you would.”
Lucy’s gaze sharpened, her tone careful. “Really?”
Romy looked down at her hands. “Of course, everyone knew you’d be a famous author one day and look at you now.”
“I tried to stay in touch with you, Romy, but I didn’t know how. I wondered how you were.”
The words hung between them, heavy and unspoken.
“Do you ever think about Jenna?” Lucy asked softly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the café.
Romy’s head snapped up, her eyes widening as they met Lucy’s. The question hit her like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. She opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She had thought about Jenna—more than she could admit, even to herself.
“Every day,” Romy finally whispered, her voice breaking slightly.
“I think about her all the time. About what happened. About what we could have done differently,” Lucy added.
The café seemed to grow quieter around them, the sounds of conversation and clinking cups fading into the background. Romy felt the weight of the years between them, the silence that had grown like a chasm after that fateful summer. There were a million topics they could have shared, but instead, Lucy went right for the jugular and Romy wasn’t having it.
“I should probably go. My aunt hasn’t been feeling very well, and…”
“We can’t avoid talking about this, Romy. Sooner or later we’ve got to put it behind us and move on. I don’t think we’ve done that, at least I know I haven’t,” Lucy said, her voice trembling but firm. “It wasn’t any of our faults.”
Romy’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue. “If you’re so certain about that, then why haven’t you moved on? It seems to me that both of us are struggling with the same thing. Only one of us paid the ultimate price for it.”
“What? What are you talking about? What ultimate price?”
Romy quickly got up from her chair. “I have to go. I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this right now.”
Her throat tightened and panic rose from her lungs. She ran to her car and didn’t look back.
Lucy watched Romy leave, her footsteps quick and uneven as she pushed open the café door and stepped back out into the sunlight. For a long moment, Lucy just sat there, staring at the empty chair across from her. Her coffee had gone cold, but she didn’t care. Romy’s words echoed in her mind, sharp and raw, cutting through the years of silence that had separated them.
What did she mean by "ultimate price"? Lucy’s stomach twisted. There was something in Romy’s voice—an edge of pain and anger she hadn’t expected. Something she didn’t understand.
She turned to look out the window, catching sight of Romy running down the cobblestone street. For a fleeting moment, Lucy thought about running after her, demanding answers. But she stayed rooted to her seat, her heart pounding.
Some wounds never truly healed, she realized. They just lay dormant, waiting for the right moment to resurface and torture you all over again. Whatever Romy was holding on to, it wasn’t going to stay buried for long.
Lucy picked up her cup, staring into the murky remains of her coffee as if it might hold the answers. Romy had come to Periwinkle Shores looking for peace and maybe even healing, but now Lucy wondered if that was even possible.
She paid the bill and stepped outside. Lucy looked around for Romy but her friend had left so quickly there was no chance to repair whatever damage had been done.
As Lucy walked back to her car, she glanced once more toward the bookstore, the ice cream parlor, and the pier. So much of her life was tangled in this place.
It was only the beginning of summer, and her world was already starting to unravel.