Page 62 of Dear Ripley

So, since we’re done thinking about the sunflowers…

I’m sorry you’re back talking to your therapist about me. I can tell from your tone—even in writing—that you’re not especially happy about that. I don’t blame you. I imagine you thought you were long over needing to talk about me. If it helps, I have definitely spent more time talking about you in therapy than I have any other person in my life.

That’s probably used as an insult usually, isn’t it? ‘I talk to my therapist about you!’ It does not imply particularly nice things. I don’t mean it as an insult. It’s simply a fact, just as you are a fact. In my life and in all things.

Getting dangerously close to that whole sunflower thing again, huh? And also to the end of the page. I don’t wish to overwhelm you, so perhaps I should wrap this note up. And, in doing so, I’ll simply say, I’m glad the yellow was like sunflowers and not like carnations this time. I like me, and you, and better yellow things.

My heart was pounding in my chest. It was more tender than I’d expected.

I’d known what I was doing when I picked sunflowers. I’d also known I hadn’t ever explained their meaning to Alicia. I’d even known there was a possibility she might look them up. I had not, however, expected her to reference their meaning quite so fully.

Hope, happiness… devotion.

Maybe it was weird to send your ex-wife a flower that meant adoration and loyalty—though, arguably, no weirder than sending her a yellow carnation. At least I hadn’t sent the actual flower this time. And that provided plausible deniability. Or, so I’d thought.

I’d wanted something yellow. Obviously, I’d buy stationery with flowers on it. Sunflowers were an obvious choice, probably the flower most people thought of when someone asked for a yellow flower. And, since all of that was true, and I hadn’t sent an actual sunflower, it could be a coincidence. It didn’t have to mean anything. Even if it did.

Had I really been expectingAlicianot to see through me?

Maybe I could pull that shit with other people, but with her? Who was I kidding, really?

I glanced at the bottom of the page. For some reason, we didn’t address or sign the letters we sent each other. For me, it was something to do with the emotions associated with addressing her directly, and the fact that, if I didn’t address or sign them, then the letters could feel more like a diary. They were a place I processed feelings and thoughts, addressed to nobody. I could pretend they weren’t for Alicia.

Whether she was following my lead or thinking the same thing, I wasn’t sure. And this letter was no different. No signature, but there was a P.S. on the back.

P.S. I just got done watching a movie with Joel and Ekundayo. Using him as your postal delivery person has, inadvertently, introduced him to the ‘delicacy’ that is popcorn and ice cream. Together. In one bite. In the same bowl.

So, if he tries forcing this horrifying combination upon you, you’ll know you only have yourself to blame.

I laughed again. I’d missed her humor. And her strong feelings about food. She’d always had the easiest time making me laugh. I wondered how it was that the laughter had become so sparse that it turned into tears, which turned to goodbyes?

I didn’t generally think about going back in time and changing things, but, with Alicia, I kind of wished I could. Or, at the very least, that I could go back and watch the two of us together, and figure out where things went wrong. Because, even now, I wasn’t really sure, and knowing… well, that would be so helpful.

I glanced around the store. Nobody had come in yet. I had inventory work I needed to do, but I also just wanted to reply. I’d already taken this long, surely a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt?

After purchasing the yellow sunflower stationery, I’d split the set in two. Half of it was on my desk at home. The other half was here, in the shop. A sensible person wouldn’t have done that. They’d have kept the entire set at home and only caught up with their personal correspondence there. I wondered what it said about me that I hadn’t done that? Of course, I already knew the answer, but I liked living in denial sometimes.

I moved to the counter, sipping the last few dregs of my tea as I went, and pulled out a sheet of paper and an envelope. Alicia had been honest, vulnerable, and funny. She’d also pushed the boundaries of what we talked about. Before this point, neither of us had mentioned mundane parts of our lives. By telling me about the movie with Ekundayo and Joel, she’d added a dimension to our letters. It felt like casual conversation now, like something actual pen pals did.

Is that what we were now? I liked it better than complete strangers, actual enemies, or ex-wives in need of mediation.

In truth, I had no idea what we were because we were so many different things, all at the same time. Relationships were like that sometimes.

I shook the questions off and decided to respond however felt natural. I read her letter again, put my pen to paper, and found the reply I wanted to send her, knowing, as I wrote, that I wouldn’t be cool enough to hold onto it for a couple of days to act as if I hadn’t yanked the nearest bit of paper towards myself in a desperate need to reply. Embarrassing, perhaps, but, again, what was the point in lying to someone who’d seen every part of you and knew exactly who you were—and who still wanted to talk to you?

Chapter 21

Alicia

I’m glad you like the yellow. Sunflowers—the ones we’re not talking about—are definitely… intriguing, shall we say?

You won’t realize I was gone, but, the minute I got done with that first paragraph, Ekundayo burst into the store. Yes, ‘burst’ is the correct word for it, since he almost flung my door off its hinges.

Would you like to know why he was in such a hurry to get to me? Three guesses.

Yep. Because he desperately needed to tell me about popcorn and ice cream, and how it’s the best food item to have ever existed. So, thank you for that. I refuse to accept any blame—I didn’t tell you to feed him that. I’m not even sure what the problem with that combination is. Is popcorn ice cream truly so far off the beaten track?

It’s costing me money, too, by the way. Apparently, this is a snack we need to have readily available in the shop. Though, I’m less sure whether that’s because Ekundayo wants to eat it regularly, or because he wants to have it available if a certain young Mister Burton visits the store… Do with that thought what you may.

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