june 26, 2024 / 12:10 am

welcome back, treblehearts.

february 28, 2026 / 9:56pm

this time's the one.

"Your aunt gave you her dead sister's journals?"

My face grimaced, both at London's question and the way her hairbrush caught a snag in my hair. "Yeah, she did. And I don't know what to do with it."

She hummed as she brushed the knot loose. "Well, what did you do?"

"Well..."

When I saw Evellyn's signature, I dropped the book and recoiled from the thing like I had opened some cursed ancient tome. Then, I peeked into each one of the journals, holding them gingerly by the corners of their pages, just to check if they were all hers – and they were.

She had so many different kinds. There was a composition book with water-damaged edges, two spiral notebooks each only half filled in, a small square memo notebook with a coffee ring on its cover, and a few hardcover journals with varying designs. I was most curious about one that could barely keep shut because of various things between the pages.

It was overwhelming. At my fingertips, I had dozens and dozens of real documented memories of a woman whose only been a tale to me. What was the protocol of reading a dead woman's diaries? Would it technically still be an invasion of privacy? It felt like it. So much so that I shoved the box of diaries so far under my bed that I'd probably need to use the handle of a broomstick to reel it back out.

By the time I finished recounting my night, London had finished with my hair and makeup. I nervously twisted a finger around a curl, but London swatted my hand away as she put the curling iron down. "I just curled that one, don't ruin it. Now, close your eyes."

I did as instructed and held my breath as a mist of setting spray settled across my face.

"There! All finished," London said, a note of satisfaction in her voice as she held up a hand mirror for me to see.

As usual, London's beautician skills never faltered. My hair was now a long curtain of curls, and the soft bronze makeup was just the perfect amount of glam to make me feel like an elevated version of myself. I smiled at my reflection and nodded at London. "I love it, thank you. If you could recreate this look for Papa's birthday, I think it'd work so nice with Evellyn's dress."

"Perfect!" London squealed, clapping her hands. "Thanks for letting me practice today. I am so excited for the party. When is it?"

"In a little over two weeks. Here, take this." I reached down and opened my bag, taking one of the invites from the stack I had printed this morning and handing one to London.

"No way, you're doing it at the Arissia? That's a pretty nice venue just for your Pop's birthday."

I nodded, meeting my excited reflection in the mirror. "I know. Amazing, right? Jessica was the wedding photographer for the owner's niece, so they're renting out the place to us for a discounted price. I'm actually going to check out the venue today and do a dance rehearsal there so that Chris and I can get a sense of the space."

After the fight with Tony, Chris did end up getting grounded. But since the fight was all in the act of defense, Rebecca only grounded him until the weekend. It was a light punishment considering it meant he would just go home and do homework rather than do it at the café or at one of the guys' places. Yesterday was the end of his sentence, so I could finally go see him.

"Perfect. Your new boyfriend better appreciate my hard work today," London said, bringing my curls forward with another appreciative nod at her work.

Boyfriend.

Love and adoration swept through my body as a sweet warmth in my chest. It spread quickly to every inch of my limbs, and suddenly, I was restless to see him.

With one final hug to London, I stuffed my feet into my boots and took off running.

I pushed open the door to the Arissia with a hard shove of my shoulder. It creaked on its hinges and the sound echoed from the brick-lined room up to the metal sky walk above. I straightened the brochure crumpled in my hand and flipped to the back where information of the venue was written in an elegant bookish print.

The Arissia was once home to the local community college theater department. Generations of students performed on this stage to a small audience before they were able to move to a more sizable theater with the generous donation of a former alumni. Now it's been transformed into a popular event location, where memories from weddings, birthdays, corporate events, and film and photo shoots are written into the building's long history.

My phone buzzed with a text from Chris.

Chris: Just got off the train. Be there soon.

I hearted the message and slipped my phone back into my tote, where it disappeared between self-forbidden pages.

Okay, so I might have taken one journal from the box — the one teeming with so many items bursting between the pages.

Instinctively I looked behind my shoulder, as if Papa might stroll through the doors with a, "Whatcha up to, kiddo?" With the coast clear (obviously), I eased onto the nearest folding chair and pulled the journal into my lap. I ran a finger across the tops of the pages, across the smooth cover, and along its imperfect spine. I hugged it to my chest, over the ache in my heart yearning for a reality that can never be mine. The one where Papa's family can be whole again, but still have room for me in it.

I placed the journal on the table and stared hard, biting my lip in contemplation. The decent human in me just knows I shouldn't read another person's diary without permission, but Aunt Suzie gave them to me. Mailed them to me specifically and said it was a "secret between us girls." Surely if Evellyn can't give me permission, Aunt Suzie can?

Sucking in a breath, I opened the journal to the page where my phone had slipped to. Two crumpled tickets lay glued sideways across the left page. The paper was yellowed and most of the words faded with time, but I could make out the words "GOOD FOR ONE RIDE"on one of the tickets. Below was a sketched illustration of a carousel with only two animals. One arrow pointed to a giraffe with the words "me" on it, and the other arrow pointed to a horse with the word "him" and a heart. I sucked in a breath. Could she be talking about Papa?

Curiosity pulling me in further, I flipped to the next page, and the next, and the next. Receipts, movie stubs, ripped pamphlets, pieces of magazines. I flipped more, my search becoming hasty and a little desperate. I was looking for him. A picture of him, or her, or them together. A moment in time, a captured memory, a glimpse into the past. Surely there has to be –

There. My eyes misted as I ran a finger over a stranger yet familiar face. It was Papa for sure. Papa's right eyebrow was always a little more arched than its left counterpart, and his ears protruded out more than I've seen on most people. His smile was the same, too. Close-mouthed but still wide enough to crinkle his eyes and tilt his head slightly to the side. I stared down at a younger version of Papa as he stared at a younger version of Evelyn, blowing at a dandelion pinched between her fingers. Her pretty cursive accompanied the photo:

How many wishes can be granted by a single dandelion? Is it one wish for one flower, or can I wish on every single seed petal that I can count? I'd like it to be the latter. Oh, what to wish for?! I want those roasted coffee beans Sanya brought back from Costa Rica, the one that came in the green packaging. I want that pretty blue dress I saw in the window of Macy's the other day. I want to move away with Richard, far from the city lights to where Mother Nature is my backyard. I want Grandpa to get better and leave the hospital so he can dance with me again. I want Suzie to be part of my world again.

I stopped at that one. What does she mean "again"? From the looks of this picture, Papa and Evelyn looked relatively young, maybe in their mid or late twenties. Did they just have a recent fight when this was written? Had it gone for longer? Forever? My heart sinks at the thought. Papa said that Aunt Suzie and Evellyn weren't close, but maybe they were close once upon a time?

The door to the hall squeaks open and my heart leaps excitedly as Chris walks in. I abandon the journal on the table as I run to him and jump into his readily available arms. He laughs as I pull down the hood of his hoodie and run my fingers through his blonde hair and down to his smiling cheeks. I melt as his lips meet mine in a long, lingering kiss. My mind flashes to Evellyn's words: Oh, what to wish for?

For a long time, I had many unfulfilled wishes that felt like unattainable dreams. But how lucky am I to suddenly have so many of those wishes fulfilled since coming back to New York? To have reconnected with old friends and connected with new ones. To have crawled my way out of my shell just enough to see how fun things could be? To have found small glimmers as a balm to my grief? To now be able to love and be loved by a boy in a same but different way?

I thanked all the imaginary dandelion seeds that have graciously granted these wishes. And as I stared into the stormy blue eyes of the boy I love, new wishes bloom deep in my chest. And I'm determined to make these ones reality, too. Starting with willing my two left feet to pull off this surprise dance for Papa.

I took a step back and held my hands out for Chris to take. "Come on, you. Dance with me."

Two hours later and one small personal meltdown later, Chris and I successfully ran through the dance sequence without bumping into a single table or chair, getting off beat, or me nearly spraining my ankle with the heels I brought to practice. I'll need to rewrite my wish from "execute a perfect dance surprise" to "execute an imperfect dance surprise that will still be thoughtful even if I bump into a guest while dancing" if I want to keep my sanity on the day.

Luckily, our dancing feet were able to rest as we rode the subway back to my apartment. I caught Chris up on the journal situation and showed him the entry where Evellyn wished that Suzie was part of her world again.

"They must've had a falling out or something that was never resolved before Evellyn died. It makes sense why it's always been a little weird between your Pops and your aunt, right?" Chris says.

I nod and twist one curl around my finger in thought. "I think so, too. I always thought we were painful reminders to Aunt Suzie about Evellyn, so maybe it's even worse for her knowing they were never close for the years leading up to her death," I say. "But, Papa also always kept Aunt Suzie at arm's length."

"Maybe he doesn't like the way Suzie treated Evellyn so he gives her the cold shoulder right back."

"I don't know if cold is the right word. She opened her home up to us when Papa was getting treatment in California, and they were never mean to each other. But it wasn't like we were having fun family board game night on the weekends, ya know? It was like we were just roommates rather than family."

Chris takes my hand and laces his fingers with mine. "Well, sounds like she's been a little more friendly with the things she sent you and the phone calls you've had recently. Why not invite her to the birthday party? Maybe since it's been some time since you moved from California, it'll be a little different between you guys?"

Hope flickered in my chest. Aunt Suzie said to let her know when the celebration date was. If one thing led to another, maybe our family could grow just a little bigger. Me, Papa, and Aunt Suzie. In a way, wouldn't that fulfill Evellyn's wish? To be part of her world again, even if it's through the extension of us?

I tried to hold onto that hope as Chris and I joined Papa for dinner. I don't have to look long at Papa's face to see the man captured in that old photograph. One eyebrow arched more than the other. Ears that were almost comical but were entirely endearing. I briefly considered sharing the photo with Papa until I remembered Aunt Suzie saying the journals were "just between us girls."

Just another point to add to the mystery between them.

Back in my room, I worked restlessly on homework until I heard Papa's snores rumble through the thin walls. After waiting and confirming that he wasn't going to snort himself back awake, I shut my bedroom lights and dove under my comforter, as if the added layers of darkness and polyester were going to muffle what I was about to do.

I pulled my phone out from beneath my pillow and blinked a few times as the bright screen came to life. My finger hovered over the call button for two heartbeats before I tapped it. Ring, ring, ri–

"Darcy!"

I smile. "Hi, Aunt Suzie. I thought you'd be awake."

"Don't you know cats get the zoomies around the hours of twelve and one am? It's like Patrick's playing chase with a ghost out there."

I hum affirmatively, though I know she enjoys staying up late watching reruns of Survivor the way she would when I still lived there. It's her version of self-care.

"So, listen," I start, "I'm calling to let you know that I've got everything officially planned for Papa's birthday, and I wanted to see if you'd like to come? You wouldn't even have to worry about booking a place to stay. My room is available if you want? It'd be great to see you."

She doesn't answer, and I would have thought the call dropped if not for the voice of Jeff Probst coming through the other line. My hope wilts. I quickly backtrack. "I-I mean, your letter said to let you know when the date of the celebration is so I just wanted to let you know the plans, but I know it's short notice and probably expensive, so –"

"Yeah, okay."

I blink. "Okay?"

"Okay," she repeats.

I can't read her tone but I'm excited all the same. "Okay. Well, great! I'll send you the details then and you can send me your flight details once you've booked?"

"Alright. I will. Goodnight, Darcy." The line really drops with no other pleasantries. Not even Jeff is still on the line.

I pull the covers down and stare at my phone, then the ceiling. She's coming. She's really coming! My thoughts go wild with all the outcomes that may come from this. Every possible good to every possible bad on the spectrum.

I shut my eyes and suck in a long, deep breath.

Then, I curl my hands around an imaginary flower stem, and blow out through my mouth for a few more dandelion wishes. 

i really can't believe i'm writing this but oh my god hi. i've been gone a long time. a lot has changed and i can't believe i was able to write this. i don't know who will read this. it might just be me, and if it is, it's enough. but if you're here, i'm so happy to see you again. i'm graduated, now a doctor of occupational therapy, living happily with my boyfriend and two adorable cats, so much better mentally, and in a whole new chapter of my life. a much, much happier one than the last couple years. i hope writing again can be a part of this new chapter, too. i'll see you again soon, xxx