And thank God.
There was no power in this place.
She put her car in Drive and turned back around, shaking her hair out of her face. She felt like maybe things should seem momentous, but instead she just felt deflated.
Whatever she’d thought she might find there, she hadn’t. Good or bad, really.
“You’re getting weird,” she said to herself as she turned onto Old Town’s main street and drove to the far end, pulling into the driveway at Rona’s Diner before killing the engine.
She didn’t have time to be sentimental about a pile of wood, bolts and insulation. She had a pie mission to see to.
Sadie took a deep breath and wrapped her sweater tightly around herself. It was June, but the Oregon Coast had no respect for summer. Even when the sun was shining, the wind had to undermine it with a chill that cut straight through the warmth, and her sweaters, apparently.
She clutched her paper coffee cup a little bit tighter and walked into the diner at the end of the main drag, out near the jetty. She’d been informed that they had the best pies in the county, and she wanted the best for the barbecue.
It was two in the afternoon and the diner wasn’t very crowded, the lunch crowd long since dissipated, the dinner crowd not yet arrived. There were some middle-aged men sitting in the corner with cake and pie on plates and coffee all around. Fishermen, Sadie guessed by the look of them.
That was one of the unique things about this place. It was a coastal town, with deep traditions tied to the sea. With fishermen, and crab shacks, seagulls and amazing fish-and-chips. But just inland were the cowboys and ranchers. Sheep, cows and beautiful stables with high-priced horses.
Copper Ridge was the melting pot of everything good in Oregon. Trees and waves, forests and beaches. In that regard, her hometown was a lot more special than she’d realized until she’d been away from it for a decade.
Old Town had changed, too. Where before things had worn a coat of neglect and salt from the sea, they were repainted, revamped and attractive to tourists now. Which was a very good thing for her.
“Can I help you?” a waitress called to her from behind the counter.
There was a glass display case beneath the countertop, laden with the very same pies and cakes the fishermen in the corner were indulging in. There were also doughnuts, giant cinnamon rolls and cupcakes that Sadie was thinking needed to go with her coffee right now.
“I’d like a cupcake. And to talk to whoever does the baked goods.”
The woman blinked and something about her expression sent a flash of memory through Sadie. “That’s me.”
“Oh, well, great.”
“What kind of cupcake?”
“Your favorite. I’m not picky.”
“I like the chocolate peanut butter.”
“Sounds perfect.” Sadie watched as the other woman bent to get the cupcake from the bottom of the display case.
Familiarity nagged at Sadie, but she still couldn’t quite place her. Obviously she had to be someone she’d known here. Someone from school?
When the waitress rose back up, the motion stiff, a grimace on her face, it hit her. “Alison?” Sadie asked. “Sadie! Sadie Miller. From school. And other things that weren’t school-related.”
The other woman’s eyes widened for a moment and something sad passed through them before there was recognition and then, finally, a small smile. “Oh...oh, Sadie. I didn’t recognize you.”
“Well, I wear less black eyeliner these days. Clearly, so do you.”
She laughed nervously. “Yeah. A bit.”
“So, what have you been up to?” Sadie asked, dimly realizing that there was something uniquely wonderful in seeing faces from your past.
“Nothing much, really. Working here. Baking. I got married.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah,” she said, forcing another smile that looked distinctly sad.
Alison had been part of her tight-knit crew. They’d caused a bit of trouble together—the barn incident being one of them—and mainly spent time in the woods near the Garrett ranch or on the beach, because for them it had been better than being at home.
They were the misfits of Copper Ridge, and even if no one else had fully realized it, they had. They knew they were different. They knew they were wrong. Broken families, poverty. Abuse.
There was only one elementary school, one junior high and a high school that sat squarely between Copper Ridge and Tolowa, making the most out of the shared student population. That meant they’d spent a lot of years circling each other like wary strays, slowly forming a group. A bond that had been, at the time, thicker and stronger than the bond with their families.
Alison, Damian, Matthew, Kelly, Sarah, Josh and Brooke. A few other people rotated in and out, but that was the core.
And she’d left them behind. She’d never contacted them.
In that moment, she felt ashamed.
“Not married,” Sadie said, holding up her bare left hand for emphasis. “I’ve been...moving a lot. Being a crisis counselor. And now a proprietress at a bed-and-breakfast. So...I still don’t make a whole lot of sense.”
“Sounds nice to me. You escaped,” Alison said.
That was how she’d felt at the time. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“I’m back. This place has that way about it. It even called me back eventually, and I like moving on a lot more than looking back. Historically speaking.”
