Chapter 18
DOVE
As we rolled into Adrian, our camping supplies safely stowed in the trunk, thanks to Ellis’s amazing packing skills and Liv’s barely helpful words of encouragement, I was hungry and feeling a little worn out.
The late night in Oklahoma was catching up to me, but maybe it was also because, in the back of my mind, I knew we’d officially hit the halfway point of this trip.
I had driven halfway across the country with a girl who had started out as a stranger and was now… something else entirely. And a ghost, with unfinished business, who made a habit of giving us half a story and then changing the subject, as if she didn’t want to face the truth.
What would she do when we got to L.A. and her life was back in front of her?
She had been removed from it ever since she died, and from what I’d gathered, strapped to Ellis from the moment her heart had been placed in Ellis’s chest.
Was she in some form of denial?
Ellis had told me to keep driving until we reached the halfway point sign. Apparently, the campground and the local diner were right across from each other, so the plan was to take our photo at the midpoint sign, grab some lunch, and then go secure a camping spot for the night.
I did as instructed. She had the binder, after all.
The sun was sitting high in a sky that looked washed out, and the world around us felt bare and overexposed. I frowned a little, not quite sure what I had expected, really. The town was small and quiet. I clocked a gas station, the diner, and a couple of other buildings, but it was mostly empty.
The campground hadn’t been much to look at either, when we’d driven by, but I decided it didn’t matter. It was one night under the stars to fulfill Liv’s unfinished wish, and I knew Ellis was quietly excited about tonight, too.
As easygoing as I was—and despite a few years in Girl Scouts—I wasn’t much of a camper. I liked creature comforts like a soft bed, good food, and a hot shower.
But I wasn’t about to let it show just how precious I could be.
“We made it,” Ellis murmured as we stepped out of the car in the diner lot. I followed her gaze to the white strip painted across the asphalt, leading to a white sign.
A big, bold Welcome stretched across it, followed by a Route 66 emblem, letting us know we were in Adrian, Texas—at the midpoint.
“Los Angeles, 1,139 miles,” I read aloud as we started walking, crossing the quiet road. “Chicago, 1,139 miles.”
Ellis let out a low whistle and shook her head. “This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home. Without my parents.”
She crossed her arms as we stopped in front of the sign, a breeze teasing red strands of hair into her face. Liv stood beside her, staring at the sign with an unreadable expression, but I noticed a slight twitch in her jaw.
I looked back at the sign.
“I’m not sure what I expected at the halfway point,” I murmured, twirling a loose strand of hair.
“I think I watch too many movies, you know? Like, if this were a movie, there’d be some deeply profound narration or dialogue between the travelers, with some subtle but emotionally evocative music…
but I don’t know. The reality of it all is just… quieter.”
“I get it,” Ellis said softly, adjusting her sunglasses. “Part of me also can’t believe I’m actually standing here. Halfway to L.A. with a ghost and someone I didn’t even know a week ago.”
Liv reached out a hand and pressed her palm against the sign, her pink hair blowing in the breeze, sequins shining magnificently under the sun. She said nothing—as if, for the first time since we’d met her, she was lost for words.
So close.
Home.
Mom.
The words popped into my mind unbidden as I stared at her. I blinked, tearing my gaze away and shifting it back to the sign, trying to steady my breathing. What I’d gotten from her—what I could feel from her—
They weren’t my feelings.
“You girls taking the route?”
The voice behind us made all three of us turn. A middle-aged woman stood there, her hair in a bun, wearing work boots, jeans, and a loose tank top.
“Yeah,” I said brightly, smiling as I squinted into the sun behind my sunglasses. “We’re headed toward Los Angeles.”
“Nice,” she said with a nod. “We get a lot of people through here. All passing by, obviously. Did you girls want a picture with the sign?”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said quickly, nudging Ellis. “Get the Polaroid camera out.”
Ellis nodded and pulled it from her bag, giving the same familiar instructions I’d heard so many times on this trip. I never stopped grinning at them.
We positioned ourselves by the sign, leaving enough space for the actual words to be visible.
Liv went behind it, clambering up so she could rest her arms and chin atop it.
The camera clicked. Something tightened in my chest at the sound, the familiar whir catching my ears, as Ellis rushed over, retrieving the photo and sliding it into the inner pocket of her bag.
“Thanks,” I said to the woman with a smile.
“No worries. Enjoy your trip, girls.”
I looked to Ellis, who was now bagging her camera.
“Should we get a selfie?” I asked, gesturing at the sign.
She agreed with a grin and came over. We stood closer this time, and as I positioned my phone, I slid an arm casually around Ellis’s shoulders, trying to ignore the sudden racing beat of my heart, keeping it as casual as I could when you’re trying to give off the vibe that it means nothing, when in reality, it means everything.
She leaned into me almost instantly, and the hairs on my arms rose.
We snapped a few more pictures before deciding we had enough. Ellis gestured for both Liv and me to follow her toward the diner, and we began walking back over.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out to see a message from Ida.
Ida [12:20 p.m.]
Miss you, girly. The crystal shelf collapsed today. Margaret was definitely in the shop, because I took a business card from a girl who wanted us to stock her Angel Aura Quartz.
I snorted at the message, immediately taken back to the day Margaret had raged about those crystals in the shop, telling some TikTok aesthetic witch exactly why she didn’t stock them.
“They’re just glittery distractions, girly. Manufactured and sold to girls like you who care more about how things look than about true earth rawness. About as spiritual as a fairy at a rave.”
Jesus. A wave of homesickness washed over me, my mind cast back to Margaret and her warmth, Ida’s hilariously snarky one-liners, and the ever-lingering smell of incense that no amount of open windows could clear from the shop, even if we ever did close up.
I missed the routine of waking up and getting dressed, opening the shop, sipping hot herbal tea.
I missed the sound of Margaret’s melodic lilt as she sang softly, dusting the crystals before the day started, the way the wooden floors would creak not because they were old, but because she deliberately stepped on the most worn-out spots.
I frowned.
I didn’t miss, however, how heavy things had gotten back home. I didn’t miss Uncle Bill and his horribleness. I didn’t miss my mother’s constant lack of faith in me. I didn’t miss the sudden coolness the shop had taken on now that Margaret’s alive, enigmatic presence had vanished.
I didn’t miss the weight of the expectations I didn’t think I could carry, or had constantly been told I couldn’t. The weight of trying to be someone Margaret had been so sure I was.
It all seemed a world away now, because I was halfway across the country on one of the most random road trips to ever exist, about to camp in a field with a ghost and a girl who’d started making my chest ache in a way I couldn’t even pinpoint when it began.
This hoity, standoffish girl who had sneered in my shop… now…
Now had some kind of chokehold on me.
In a way I couldn’t explain.
In a way I didn’t want to explain.
I didn’t feel lost here. Not really.
If anything, being on the road, being away from it all, felt like something inside me had cracked open. Like something had started shifting.
I noticed more now. I saw and felt things through a sharper lens than the one I’d been wearing.
I noticed the way sunlight fell just right on Ellis’s red hair, the different expressions she wore and what they meant.
I noticed the way Liv’s laughter often had a shadow behind it, something she masked with an offensive comment or a witty one-liner.
My tarot cards—Margaret’s cards—had started to feel warmer in my hands. I’d taken to shuffling them before bed, placing them reverently back into their velvet pouch.
My mind flitted back to Ida and her text, and I bit my lip before navigating to call her. I needed to tell her what I had done—and what I had been doing. Scattering Margaret across the route and, hopefully, the grand finale into the Pacific was all good in theory, but Ida needed to know.
She needed the option to be there for it.
She picked up after two rings.
“Dovey!” Ida greeted, warmth in her voice, and I could feel the smile on her face.
“Hey,” I murmured as a gust of dusty wind kicked up around me. “How are you? How is the shelf?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Ida said, and I could practically see her flippant hand wave. “Whereabouts are you now on the route?”
“The halfway point,” I murmured, a grin on my face. “Literally standing in the middle of the halfway point.”
“Amazing,” Ida said with glee. “How exciting for you. How is your little friend?”
I eyed Ellis, who was giving me privacy as she stood off to the side with Liv, the two of them talking.
“She’s good,” I said carefully, knowing Ida would pick up on whatever was happening regardless. It was just what she did. So I beat her to it. “I like her.”
Ida chuckled gently down the line.
“Of course,” she said, her know-it-all voice unmistakable.
“Listen,” I said quickly, my palms beginning to sweat. “I have something to tell you… and I don’t know if you’re going to love it or hate it.”