5️⃣

ORM

Even though I tell Eric that I don't have time to grab a coffee with him, he insists on walking me to the inland residential streets where the Lee household is located.

Gigi Lee just confirmed via text that I can stop by to see with my own eyes that she's got everything under control for the wedding. She's a lot more understanding about my control-freak tendencies than Mrs. Whitten, thankfully. As a former professional chef and current catering genius, Gigi is also a big fan of double—and triple—checking things.

Take that, Mrs. Whitten.

"I remember these streets," Eric muses as he walks alongside me, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He points south. "Isn't your house down that way?"

We've just taken a shortcut behind the Siren & Sword, bypassing the chaos of Main Street. The noise and brightness fade behind us as we step onto the quieter tree-lined residential lane.

Still, even with the relative calm, I feel like I'm stuck in a time loop. My mind keeps circling back to Lingling Kwong and our awkward sidewalk encounter earlier. The way she looked at me—like she didn't know me at all—has been replaying in my head like a skipping record.

I blink fast, forcing my brain to focus on the present moment.

"No, it's actually in the opposite direction," I inform Eric.

He chuckles easily, flashing that boyish smile of his. "Ah. Well, anyway, I feel like this town hasn't changed at all since I was last here."

"Honestly, it really hasn't," I admit fondly. I like that about Point Reyes. Sure, certain things modernize, and a few new businesses pop up every couple of years, but the heart of the town stays the same. Stable. Dependable. It's comforting.

"Have you been living here this whole time? I mean, since you graduated from Santa Clara University?" Eric asks.

"Yep," I reply with a nod. "And where have you been? Last I heard, you were still at Fresno State."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Here and there. I worked for a small marketing firm in Santa Cruz for a while, then went down to Los Angeles to see if the big city suited me."

"Did it?"

"Not really. Technically, I still live there, but I'm thinking about moving soon."

"Oh? Where to?"

Eric grins. "Wherever the wind takes me, Orm."

"And did the wind take you here to Point Reyes?"

"Kind of. Well, actually, I'm not supposed to be here." He offers me a mischievous smile. "Do you want to know a secret?"

I can't help but laugh at that. Eric has such a playful nature—it's effortless to be around him. He was the same when we were teenagers, if a little more wild back then. It's one of the reasons I was so determined to kiss him that summer.

And the other reason... I'd rather not dwell on that.

"I love secrets," I tell him.

"Good, because it's juicy. See, I'm here for a wedding, and I'm definitely not crashing, but I do think my presence will be unexpected because..."

And then Eric launches into an elaborate story that has my jaw practically on the ground for the entire walk to Gigi Lee's house.

As he tells it, Eric wasn't just in town that summer twelve years ago because his family randomly decided to vacation in Point Reyes. The truth is, his mother brought them here in an attempt to mend a broken bridge with Elijah Navarro's mother.

Because—brace yourself—Eric's mother is Elijah's aunt. On his father's side.

Everyone in Point Reyes knows the story of Elijah Navarro's father. He left before Elijah was even born. Mrs. Navarro was seven months pregnant when he walked out, claiming he needed space to think, only to disappear completely. Not because he died at sea or anything remotely poetic—no, he simply couldn't handle the pressure of impending fatherhood.

The whole town knows Mrs. Navarro as a quiet but fierce woman who worked tirelessly to raise Elijah on her own. It's the kind of story that's passed down like local folklore.

The point is, Elijah hardly knew anything about his father and absolutely nothing about his father's family. He didn't even know he had an aunt on that side. Not until Eric's mother brought their family here twelve years ago, hoping to reconnect and introduce Eric and Elijah to each other.

"At the time, I didn't know anything about it," Eric tells me. "Neither did Elijah. It's crazy, isn't it? I mean, we hung out quite a few times, and we didn't even know we were related."

"Why didn't your mom just tell them?"

He shrugs. "I think she was nervous. Maybe she thought Elijah's mom would tell us to get lost. Honestly, I don't know all the details. My mom isn't the most personable woman—she probably didn't approach Mrs. Navarro the right way. From what I understand, they had an argument, agreed to never speak again, and that's why our vacation ended earlier than planned."

We round the corner of Pepper Lane, where the Lee household is nestled among flowerbeds bursting with hydrangeas and peonies.

"And now you're here?" I ask. I definitely don't remember seeing an Eric Kendall on the guest list when we were finalizing the invitations. Maybe Elijah added him at the last minute.

"I reached out to Elijah a couple of years ago," Eric explains, his voice softer now. "I found out the truth about our families, and I just... I don't know, I felt like I should reach out. I wasn't expecting him to reply, but we've been keeping in touch ever since. My mom still feels weird about the whole thing, so I didn't tell her I'm here. Even my sister doesn't know, though honestly, Natalie wouldn't care either way. She's still as self-absorbed as ever."

"Wow. So Elijah has a cousin. Two cousins, I guess."

Eric grins. "We don't look alike at all, do we?"

It's true. Elijah is taller and leaner, with sharp, angular features, while Eric is stockier with softer lines to his face. Their hair, their eyes—everything about them is different. But now that Eric points it out, there's a faint similarity in the curve of their noses and the stubborn set of their jaws.

"Not really," I admit. "Maybe a tiny bit, if you squint."

We stop in front of the Lee family's wrought-iron gate. Eric shoves his hands in his pockets and gives me a crooked grin.

"Well, anyway, it's good to see you, Orm. And it's cool to know you're the maid of honor. I can't believe I'm only now realizing that Elijah's bride is your cousin. We'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few days, I suppose!"

"Yeah..."

Is he flirting? Do I want him to be flirting?

There's no spark.

In all honesty, there wasn't much of a spark when I was a teenager, either. The kiss Eric and I shared was just a silly, one-time thing. One of those major stepping stones you just want to get over with and then move on. At least, that's how I saw it.

"I'll let you carry on with your day," Eric continues, flashing his easy grin. "See you around, Orm. Oh, and by the way, I promise I don't have mono this time."

I force a laugh, wondering why he would feel the need to make a joke like that. Is he thinking about kissing me again? Seriously? We barely know each other. It's been twelve years!

"See you later, Eric," I reply, choosing to ignore the comment entirely.

He starts walking backward away from me, waving cheerfully as I push open the gate and walk up the gravel path to the Lee family's front porch.

Am I happy to see Eric again? I'm not sure. Truthfully, I feel pretty neutral about it. I'm glad Elijah has reconnected with one of his estranged family members, and it's nice that Eric will get to experience the wedding. But other than that, it's not like I'm excited about his return to Point Reyes.

But Lingling Kwong, on the other hand...

My lips curve into an automatic frown at the thought of her. I definitely feel something about her return to town, and it's not positive.

I wonder if I could convince Sam Dechaine to banish her. She's the mayor, after all. Surely, she has the power to do that. Except, banishment is probably no longer a thing. Pity.

Whatever Lingling is doing here, I know for a fact it can't be for the wedding. I would know if she knew Elijah.

So, at least I'm safe from running into her again at any of the upcoming wedding events. A small mercy.

Before I can spiral any further into thoughts of Lingling Kwong and her sharp gaze, the front door of the quaint blue Lee house swings open, and Mabel Lee steps out.

"Hey, Orm!" she chirps, her wide grin instantly brightening the overcast afternoon.

Mabel's vibrant red hair glows like fire in the muted sunlight, pulled back into a loose braid. She's wearing her usual Siren & Sword apron poking out from her canvas bag, and her keys jingle as she spins them casually around her finger.

"Hi, Mabel. How's it going?"

"Oh, you know... off to the restaurant. Same old, same old. I'm looking forward to the wedding, though. It's been ages since I've set foot near Marigold Manor. That's usually rich tourist territory."

I laugh as I climb the porch steps. Marigold Manor is the crown jewel of Point Reyes—a sprawling, historic estate with meticulously manicured gardens and grand ballrooms. Josie has been dreaming of getting married there since we were kids.

"Tell me about it," I reply with a grin. "But Josie's been dreaming of having her wedding there forever, so Elijah was determined to make it happen."

Mabel chuckles. "I swear they could make Josieandelijah's love story into a movie. Maybe we should pitch it to one of the Hollywood folks hanging around here this summer."

"Now that's an idea."

From inside the house, Gigi's brisk but warm voice calls out, "Is that Orm? Come on in, hon! Mabel, stop gossiping!"

Mabel snorts and rolls her eyes as she steps aside, giving me space to walk into the house.

She hesitates on the top step, eyes glinting with mischief. "Hey, are you bringing a date to the wedding?"

"What?" I blink. "To the wedding?"

"Yeah. A date."

"Oh... no. No, I'll be too busy doing maid-of-honor stuff. Montgomery Events stuff, too, I guess. Are you bringing a date?"

Mabel laughs heartily. "No way. You know me. This little birdie flies solo."

I smile, even though I can't help but feel a little curious. Someone as effortlessly charming as Mabel—and stunningly gorgeous, at that—surely has people lined up around the block. But I don't ask. I don't want to pry.

Mabel salutes me with two fingers, her smile as bright as ever. "See you at the wedding, superstar!"

I chuckle and duck inside the Lee home.

The moment the door clicks shut behind me, Gigi Lee appears in the entryway like a whirlwind. She's wearing a crisp white apron over her floral dress, and her dark hair is swept up into a messy bun. She's practically glowing with energy as she grabs my arm and drags me toward the kitchen.

"Good, you're here!" she sings, her voice carrying over the hum of activity in the kitchen. "I need you to try this bruschetta. It's a new recipe, and I'd like your approval before I finalize it for the reception. Oh, and there's a steak marinade I'm not quite sure about for those adorable little frites we agreed on. Plus, I know we've got the wedding cake sorted out, but I thought it might be nice to offer a vegan gelato alternative if you approve. It's blueberry. You'll love it. I hope you're hungry..."

I can't help but smile as I let myself be swept into the organized chaos of Gigi Lee's kitchen. It smells heavenly in here—garlic, roasted herbs, butter, something sweet and tangy simmering on the stove. Staff in white aprons are moving around with precision, chopping vegetables, plating delicate hors d'oeuvres, and stirring giant pots of sauce.

In the corner of the kitchen, Mei-Xing Lee, Gigi's teenage daughter, is carefully piping cream onto tiny tart shells. She looks up briefly, gives me a shy smile, and then goes right back to her task.

"Hi, Mei-Xing!" I call out.

"Hi, Orm!" she replies softly.

Gigi gestures to a stool by the counter, where a platter of bruschetta and tiny steak frites awaits.

"Alright, my dear Orm, taste away and tell me if these are worthy of the grand event at Marigold Manor."

As I pick up a piece of bruschetta and take my first bite, my shoulders finally relax for what feels like the first time all day.

For the next hour, I let Gigi bombard me with samples, recipe tweaks, and tasting notes. It's chaotic, loud, and slightly overwhelming...

But it's perfect.

This wedding will be flawless.

Or else.