That Forever Girl

by Quinn, Meghan

  “Really?” I scan the manor. “I wonder why no one’s bought it.”

  “My dad told me once that the person who owns it, who actually inherited it, refuses to sell. Instead, they just let it sit here, rotting.”

  “Who owns it?”

  She shrugs. “It’s a secret.”

  I flip open the envelope and pull out a letter.

  “Maybe we can find the answer in one of these letters.”

  Bringing the flashlight over, Harper snuggles in close. I wrap my arm around her and read the letter out loud.

  My dearest Iggy,

  It’s been two weeks since I last saw you, and it’s breaking my heart. I miss you more than words can convey. It’s almost as if the ocean has stopped churning, the wind has stopped blowing, and the sun has stopped setting ever since you left. I can’t fathom what another week will feel like without you by my side. And every time I imagine that wench in my house, floating by those beautiful windows, acting like she’s the one you bought it for, it tears me apart.

  I pause. “Wait . . . what?”

  “Was Iggy having an affair?” Harper asks, a smile tugging on her lips. She finishes reading the letter.

  Just promise me that all the decorating, all the fixtures and the paint, they reflect our ideas, the ones we dreamt of for so many years. For one day, we will be together, and when that day comes, I want it to be like we never skipped a beat.

  I love you dearly.

  Your Forever Girl

  “What the hell?” I flip the letter over for any other information. “Iggy was having a freaking affair!”

  “Oh, Iggy.” Harper shakes her head and picks up another envelope. “Looks like we have a long night ahead of us.”

  “Wait.” I pause her hand. “What about making out?”

  She chuckles and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “We have plenty of time to do that later. Right now, we have a mystery to solve.”

  And just like that, I have my best friend back.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HARPER

  Wreaths and Christmas lights are scattered on flower boxes and along all the storefronts of Main Street. Locals are decorating and getting ready for the holiday season as Christmas music plays from the speakers strategically placed along the street. I remember when they decided to put in a sound system for the holidays. I was living in Vermont, and my dad called me, told me everyone in town was so pleased they were finally able to afford speakers for Main Street. I giggled then, temporarily missing my hometown.

  Only temporarily, though, because being here now is painful. I do love the feeling this town gives me, the closeness, the community, and it reminds me of how lucky I was to grow up with such amazing people. But with every turn of the corner, every smell wafting from a storefront, every beat of the waves against the shore, I remember what I used to have with Rogan.

  That’s the problem with a small town: it holds an ocean of memories, good and bad, that washes over you every time you step outside your house. And dating in a small town? Forget it. You’re bound to run into your ex, or someone who wants to talk about your ex, or in my case, your ex’s entire family. It’s never ending.

  At least I’m not running into my latest ex. I shiver at the thought, trying to block off the painful memories begging to be remembered. No, I refuse to acknowledge anything to do with him.

  But avoidance is lonely.

  That’s why after two weeks of holing up on the peninsula, I’m venturing into town. I have to face the music at some point and start a routine that’s beyond waitressing at the inn or helping my dad clean the lighthouse panes.

  With my hands tucked into my jacket pockets, I kindly smile at the people I pass by. I get some “good mornings” and some “how are yous,” but I don’t stick around long enough to start up a conversation. I keep moving to my single destination: Snow Roast for some coffee.

  I purposefully denied myself coffee this morning so I was forced to walk down into town and get a cup.

  The light-green storefront with white lettering comes into view—coffee, only a few feet away. I trudge the rest of the way, crossing the empty street, and then hop up on the sidewalk. I can smell the coffee from here—glorious, glorious coffee.

  The bell above the door rings when I open it, and I come face to face with a very busy shop.

  Goodness.

  I wasn’t expecting this many people so early in the morning. Then again, it looks like the decorating brigade is awake and elbows deep in lights and wreaths. Odd, they don’t usually decorate this early—then again, I haven’t been around much; maybe their schedule has changed.

  I take my place in line behind a brunette and glance around the shop. Ruth, the owner, has done a great job preserving it, adding her own touch with the old farmhouse look but maintaining the structural integrity and moldings.

  One of the few memories I have of my mom was when she brought me to Snow Roast on a Saturday afternoon. The shop owner at that time brought us a plate of cookies and hot chocolate. We sat in the window booth and watched as snow fell over the street, blanketing everything in white. It was a month before my mom passed away from breast cancer; I was five. But it’s still one of my fondest memories. Even though my mom was so sick, her hair had fallen out, and she was as pale as the snow just outside the window, she had the brightest smile on her face as she slid the plate of cookies toward me.

  Eyes still trained on the window, remembering my mom’s face, I take a step forward as the line moves but bump into the girl in front of me.

  “Oh, excuse me, I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s okay.” The girl turns around; recognition lights up her face. “You’re Harper, right? Harper Sanders?”

  “Yes.” I take her extended hand, trying to place her face but having a hard time.

  “I’m Ren, Griffin’s girlfriend. We didn’t get to officially meet.” Funny how she doesn’t have to say Griffin’s last name. When it comes to Port Snow, there really is only one Griffin, one Reid, one Brig, and . . . one Rogan.

  “Oh, hi, it’s so nice to meet you.”

  According to my dad, who read it in the town newspaper—which is basically just a gossip rag with a small back page offering the rest of the news—Griffin Knightly has found love again. I was so happy when he told me. Claire’s death was beyond tragic and cast a dark cloud over the town. She was so beloved in Port Snow, and Griffin—God—she was everything to him. The devastating toll it took on the family and everyone around them, the sorrow I felt for a dear friend I grew up admiring . . . it was hard on everyone. I just wish I could have been there for the Knightlys. It’s one of my biggest regrets, not being able to set aside my heartbreak to take care of my friends.

  “Thanks for letting me crash your birthday party,” I say, feeling a little awkward.

  “I’m just sad we didn’t get to talk before you left.”

  “Yeah, it kind of got awkward very quickly.” I sigh. “You probably know that Rogan and I—”

  “Were engaged? Yeah, Griffin told me the whole story.” With a smile, she leans in. “Those Knightly boys can be real morons, can’t they?”

  That makes me chuckle and stills the churning in my stomach. “They really can be.”

  “And they make it seem like they’re the most intelligent men, but when it comes to love, they are deaf, blind, and stupid.”

  I don’t think I could have said it any better.

  “It’s true.”

  “Well, I’m glad that you’re out and about. I heard, through the gossip, of course”—we roll our eyes in unison—“that you’re working up at the inn?”

  “Yeah, for now. I’m kind of trying to figure things out.” I don’t give away too much; even though Ren is really sweet, I don’t entirely trust her to not say anything to Griffin, who in return would tell Rogan. That family can never keep a secret.

  “What better place to do it than in Port Snow?” Ren smiles as we take another step forward, poor Ruth running around fulfilling or
ders and taking payments. Thankfully, she has another girl working with her. “I moved here in the summer. I’m from California.”

  “Really?” I ask, shocked. “What made you move all the way to tiny Port Snow?”

  We’re now standing side by side in line as if we’ve been friends forever. I have to admit I’m kind of glad I came out to town today.

  “I was in a near-death accident, and I wanted a change once I healed. I searched for a small town to settle in, and since Port Snow had an opening for an algebra teacher, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to start a new chapter in my life. I did not expect to fall so in love with the town or with Griffin. Living here has healed me.” Suddenly serious, Ren turns toward me and places her hand on mine. “I know you’re hurting, but I hope you can find the same kind of healing I found here.”

  I smile politely. “Thanks, but I think there are too many memories to help me heal.”

  “Sometimes memories are what you need to remind you who you are and where you come from.” She winks and steps up to the counter, smiling brightly at a stressed Ruth. “The usual, and I’ll be buying for my new friend, Harper, as well.”

  “Hey, Ruth.” I give her a small wave.

  “Harper, I’m so happy to see you again.” Ruth wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, moving a lock of hair to the side. “You have to come back when I’m not so busy so we can catch up.”

  “I will for sure.”

  We put in our orders, I thank Ren for the coffee, and then after we get our cups, we part with a promise to meet up. Ren walks toward the Lobster Landing, the prominent white building at the end of Main Street, most likely to hang out with Griffin, while I turn in the opposite direction, her words resonating with me.

  Sometimes memories are what you need to remind you who you are and where you come from.

  Who am I? I’m not sure I ever knew who I was outside of my love for Rogan. The moment, years ago, when we made out in the manor, when we became boyfriend and girlfriend, changed everything, morphed my life into living for another human rather than myself.

  When people say their partner is their “everything,” that couldn’t ring more true for me, or for Rogan, actually. I know it wasn’t a one-way affection; hell, there were times I really wondered if Rogan loved me more. I could feel it in my bones, the kind of care he had for me.

  By senior year, scouts from schools across the country were seeking him out, but he waited to see where I was accepted before he chose. He wanted to go to school with me, even though I applied to all the schools that offered him a full ride. I based every single decision around him and his dreams. We ended up at Syracuse University, and I don’t regret it, because it was what I wanted at the time. But after we broke up, I realized that I had never truly discovered who I was or what I was supposed to do with my life.

  After Rogan dropped out of college, I followed quickly behind, which was a huge mistake. Try getting a job as a college dropout with zero ambition and a penchant for crying every few hours. I couldn’t stay in Syracuse; the reminder of college, of the accident, of our demise, was too painful. But going back to Port Snow where Rogan was living wasn’t an option either. So I started traveling up and down the East Coast, getting gigs as a tour guide in different cities and doing the one thing I know how to do: talk about the beauty and history of New England with visitors.

  But being a tour guide isn’t my life’s passion, and it barely pays the bills. I want to do better than that. I don’t want to have to live with my dad for the rest of my life. I’m twenty-eight, and I need to figure out what I want in life and move past the man who still owns my heart.

  Taking a sip of my coffee, I stroll down Main Street, slowly meandering along. There are swarms of dutiful volunteers out here today, cheerily helping create the picture-perfect Christmas wonderland. But . . . why? There isn’t even snow on the ground yet. Though I have to admit the decorations are putting me in a better mood. Besides summer, Christmas is my favorite time of the year in Port Snow. There’s something so magical about it.

  “Whoa, almost ran you over there.”

  I abruptly stop, my coffee sloshing in my cup. I look up to find Griffin Knightly smiling down at me. All the brothers look like each other, though they carry enough small differences that if you know them well enough, you can tell them apart. But they all share those soulful blue eyes. Looking into one pair almost feels like you’re looking into all four sets.

  “Oh, Griffin, hey.”

  He steadies me with a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about that. I’ve been all over the town this morning; I should pay attention to where I’m going.”

  “Not a problem.” I sidestep, trying to look anywhere but in his eyes. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “I could use a little break.” He nods toward a bench stationed right outside the art gallery. “Take a seat with me for a second.”

  Oh God, take a seat with Griffin Knightly, the boy who always treated me like a little sister? The boy I went to whenever I needed advice about Rogan? The man I let down by not being there for him when he lost his wife? I don’t know if I can.

  But before I can make up my mind, he’s pulling me to the bench, where we both take a seat.

  Silent for a moment, we stare out at the volunteers busying themselves. “Can you keep a secret?” he finally says, surprising me.

  “I mean . . . yeah, you know I can.”

  He smiles, probably thinking of all the times I covered for him and Claire. “You’re right, you can. You must be wondering why we’re decorating so early.”

  “Yeah, I was wondering that, but I haven’t lived here for a while, so I thought that you might have changed things up.”

  “Nope.” He leans in. “We actually have movie location scouts coming into town. Port Snow is on the short list for a Lovemark movie.”

  “What?” I feel myself brighten. The town has been vying to be a film location for years. This would be a dream come true for so many locals. “Are you serious?”

  Griffin leans back on the bench and folds his hands together. “Yup, and I’m in charge of making the town look magical. It’s been . . . challenging at times.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. And you don’t want to tell anyone why, right?”

  “Not unless I want it ending up in the newspaper the next morning. I’ve been telling them something big might happen, and that’s it; I don’t want to get people’s hopes up yet, but hell, Harper, this would be so amazing for the town. I’m just hoping we can convince them.”

  “Do you know when they’re coming in?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I just know I have today and tomorrow to finish up.” He laughs to himself. “Brig is beside himself.”

  “You told Brig? That boy can’t keep anything quiet.”

  “He overheard us during Sunday night dinner. We tried to exclude him, but a fat lot of help that did. I threatened to take a crowbar to all his Mustangs if he speaks a word of it.”

  “How many does he have now?” When Rogan and I were dating, Brig was hell bent on owning an auto shop where he could restore and fix cars and also rent out his collection to tourists who wanted to drive around for a day in an old, beautifully restored Ford Mustang. When I passed his shop this morning, I couldn’t help but smile; it looks like his business is booming.

  “I think about ten. He’s always buying and selling, constantly keeping his hands busy. I think he has to keep his mind on something other than finding the love of his life.”

  “Still chasing the happily ever after?” Brig always was a romantic.

  “Oh yeah. Maybe he should stop chasing and let it fall into his lap instead. But what do I know? I’m only his oldest brother.”

  “He’s never listened to you. None of them did.” I chuckle, feeling a little piece of the old me resurface. I glance over at Griffin and let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Griff.”

  “Sorry for what?” His brows pull together.

  I twist my hands, una
ble to look him in the eye. “For not being there for you when Claire passed. I should have been here to help you and your family. I was just too . . . God, I was too heartbroken to see anything besides myself.”

  He takes my hand in his, turning toward me. “I’ve always considered you a dear friend and a part of the family, Harper. What happened with you and Rogan . . . it didn’t just break your heart; it broke all of ours. I know only a fraction of that heartache you experienced, so please don’t apologize. I know you would have been there if you could.”

  I nod, a small tear rolling down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away and take a deep breath. “Jeez, I wasn’t supposed to cry today.” I nervously laugh. “But then I run into you, and the waterworks come out. You’ve always been real with me. I appreciate that, Griffin.”

  “Hey, what are big brothers for?” He winks and pulls me into a hug. Leaning into him, I let more tears fall from my eyes. He squeezes me even tighter.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ROGAN

  Junior Year, High School

  “Get the fuck out, man,” I say, checking myself in the mirror one more time. “Harper’s going to be here soon, and I won’t have much time with her before Mom and Dad come back from Pottsmouth.”

  “What are you going to do?” Reid says, ever the annoying little brother. “Make out?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. Knowing you, you’ll just run to Mom and Dad.”

  “Who says I won’t do that anyway?” he challenges, arms crossed over his chest.

  Harper and I have been dating for nine months now, and our summer is just starting. I finally get to spend some alone time with her after finals, but Reid is ruining that, especially now that he overheard Mom and Dad talking about being cautious when leaving me alone with Harper.

  From my back pocket, I pull a ten-dollar bill and flash it in Reid’s face. “This is yours if you keep your mouth shut.” I pull another five from my pocket. “And this is so you can go get some ice cream with Tracker. Now. Don’t come back for two hours. Got it?”