Chapter Text
Lara Jean climbed up the last of the subway steps, the city enveloping her as she turned onto 74th Avenue. The rush hour traffic was loud as usual with the familiar smell of hot dogs and something else that was uniquely New York filling her nostrils. Nine years. She spent nearly a decade in the city, and it still gave her the same thrill she felt when she stepped into Manhattan for the first time all those years ago on her senior trip.
She did learn to ogle less, though. The whole adage about New Yorkers being a brusque people was not an overstatement, so she walked more, stared less. Particularly today, when she left her sunglasses at home. Just her luck, it was a particularly sunny day, too.
As she passed Levain bakery on her way to the office – miraculously, she had somehow landed a position at a law firm only one block away – her phone rang. She grinned when she saw her dad’s number.
“Morning, Dad.”
“Morning, Lara Jean. How is New York this morning?”
“Very sunny,” she said, shading her eyes. She went to cross the street, but yielded to the flashing hand signal. She had been in enough taxis that blew yellow lights to know that it was wise not to chance it. “Hey, did you get those muffins that I sent you?”
“I did, but you know, isn’t it supposed to be the parent sending the kid care packages?”
“Well, right now, the parent is the one preparing for an exam, so I think it’s allowed.”
Dr. Covey decided a few years back to complete a fellowship in maternal fetal medicine. He was accepted into a program at a local hospital and was now deep into studying for his board examinations at the end of the month.
“That is a very good point,” Dr. Covey said, his smile evident in his tone. “Thank you, by the way. The muffins were so good that Trina and I got in an argument over who got to eat the last one. I almost ended up spending the night on the couch.”
Lara Jean laughed. “Well, next time I’ll send more. So, what’s up? As much as I love calls from you, they don’t usually come this early.”
“Yeah, there was something that I needed to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” Lara jean said slowly.
“Trina and I are selling the house.”
The light turned green, but Lara Jean didn’t move. “You’re selling the house?”
“It’s too big for just the two of us and the housing market is really great right now. It felt like the right time.”
“Maybe you should think about it?” Lara Jean said. “I mean, you have the boards end of this month. That’s a lot of big things happenings in one month, you know?”
“Lara Jean, we already put a down payment on a condo.”
Lara Jean swallowed hard, feeling a weird prickling sensation in her throat. “You did?”
“This isn’t a decision we made lightly. We’ve been thinking about it ever since Kitty went off to college. And now, it felt like the right time.”
“The right time. Sure.”
“There’s one other thing,” Dr. Covey began, his voice hesitant. “We’re working with Peter to sell the house.”
Of all the things her dad said during their conversation, this was the least surprising. After college, Peter had taken a few career detours before getting into real estate. Naturally, he was good at it. He had always been the type of person who could sell anything.
“I think that’s great,” Lara Jean said, although a part of her didn’t mean it. With Peter, it meant the house would probably sell quickly.
“Good,” Dr. Covey said with relief. “I was worried because of, well, you know.”
Lara Jean did know, although, there really was no reason for the awkwardness. Everyone expected Lara Jean and Peter to break up during college when she was in New York, and he was in California, but they actually made it through those four years together. It was two years later that it fell apart. The split was amicable, though, and she had told her dad as much, but he still treaded carefully, even all these years later.
“Anyway, we’ve started to pack up some boxes, and I thought maybe you’d want to come down and see if you’d like to keep anything. I already called your sisters and they’re coming in, too.”
Kitty was one state over finishing up her college degree at University of Washington while Margot headed up her own public relations firm in Chicago. It had been years since they all had been together for something other than a holiday.
“I’ll look into flights.”
Lara Jean never thought that she would become the person who lost touch with her hometown, but after she moved to New York, she realized how quickly time went, and how a few months easily snow-balled into a few years. She kept in near-constant contact with her family through video calls and a very active group text, but it had been years since she had spent any extended amount of time back in Portland.
Dr. Covey picked Lara Jean up from the airport, and when he parked his car in front of the house, she almost swore it looked disapproving. She climbed out of the car, listening to her dad talk about one of his cases at the hospital as he grabbed her suitcase from the trunk. She vaguely heard the phrase uterine prolapse, but caught little else as the front door of her house opened and Peter Kavinsky walked out.
She hadn’t seen him for three years. It was Thanksgiving weekend and she had been at the grocery store getting a can of cranberry sauce. His back was to her as he stared confusedly between two jars of mustard, and she had walked over and said, “If this is for your mom’s green bean casserole, you want to get the Dijon.” They exchanged pleasantries then and headed off to their own separate Thanksgivings, one with green bean casserole and another with ddukbokki. She didn't see him since but, admittedly, thought of him often.
He stopped on the front stoop, a wide grin pulling at his mouth. He gave her a wave and then turned back to the couple that walked out behind him. They seemed nice, but not nice enough to take over her family home.
“Sorry, I thought that they’d be done by now,” Dr. Covey said.
“It’s okay. I’ll grab my other bag from the back seat.”
She busied herself with getting the bag, taking much too long to pull it out and sling it over her shoulder, and when she was back out, Peter was waving goodbye to the couple. As their car pulled away, he walked over and Dr. Covey asked, “What do you think?”
“They are definitely interested,” Peter said. “No offer yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we get one by end of week.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Peter nodded and then glanced over at Lara Jean. She felt nervous, and was grateful to have the bag on her shoulder to fiddle with, except Peter read into that the wrong way and said, “Here, let me help you with that.”
He reached for the bag with his left hand and she saw the ring on his fourth finger. Her friend, Chris, told her about the wedding last year. Peter wasn’t on social media, so she hadn’t actually seen any objective proof of it until now.
“Thank you, Peter.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
They headed into the house and Peter deposited her bag on the couch in the rec room next to where her dad set her suit case. Dr. Covey purposely made himself scarce and Peter asked, “So, how are you? It’s been a while.”
“I’ve been good. Really good. And you?”
“Good,” he said.
“Congratulations on the wedding,” Lara Jean said. “Although, I guess it’s probably a little late for congratulations. It’s been almost a year, right?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah, just about. But, thank you. For the congratulations.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I’m doing this,” Peter said, gesturing vaguely toward the house. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I know how much this house means to you.”
“Thanks, but it’s okay,” she said. “We all have to move on at some point, right?”
He nodded, eyes meeting hers for just a beat too long. “Yeah, we do. Anyway, I should probably get going. I have an open house at two.”
“Yes, I won’t keep you. But, it was nice seeing you.”
“You, too, Lara Jean.”
His arm swung out toward her and she thought that he was moving forward for a hug, but as she stepped forward she saw that she had miscalculated a good old fashioned arm pat for a hug, and in a panicked moment, she grasped his hand with hers and shook it firmly.
“Have a good day,” she said, voice stilted.
He looked down at her with confusion and then smirked. “You have a good day, too.”
He walked out and Lara Jean groaned, covering her face with her hands.
“Well, that was awkward,” Kitty said behind her.