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“Not really,” Lizzie confessed. “So maybe I’m worrying about nothing.”
Yvonne closed her tablet. “Is this something to do with Adam?”
“Kind of.” Lizzie rearranged the pens beside the register. “I know how much he loved Louisa. I saw them together, and now . . .”
“She’s gone, and you feel like you can’t live up to her?” Yvonne asked gently.
“Yes. That.” Lizzie met her gaze. “Does that make me sound horrible?”
“Not at all.” Yvonne paused. “It makes you sound human, but you don’t have to be the second Louisa in Adam’s life; you can be the first Lizzie.”
“If that can ever be good enough for Adam,” Lizzie said.
“Louisa died a long time ago,” Yvonne reminded her. “Not only was she your best friend who would never wish ill on you, but, from what I’ve heard about her, I bet she’d be thrilled if you can get Adam out of his funk.”
“Maybe.” Lizzie wasn’t quite convinced, but she did feel a little better. The door opened and Ruth and January Morgan came in. January was carrying her son Chase William who was struggling to get down.
“He’s walking, and now he wants to go everywhere by himself.” January set her son on the ground but kept a firm hand on the back of his denim overalls. “He’s a daredevil just like his uncle Blue.”
Lizzie smiled down at the little boy who had a shock of blond hair and the familiar piercing blue Morgan eyes.
“How about we get you all something to eat and drink, and then, maybe, he’ll settle down?” Lizzie suggested and took out her notepad and pencil. When she became manager, she might suggest to Yvonne that all the servers moved to using tablets where they could also cash the guests out.
Adam was coming into town around two, so she’d take her lunch then, and he could join her at the café.
* * *
It got busy from eleven onward, and Lizzie didn’t have much time to think let alone worry about Adam as she served her customers. It was a warm day and the air-conditioning was working at full blast to keep up with the dazzling heat from the sun.
Lizzie had just helped herself to a cold drink and was fanning herself with a menu as she emerged from the kitchen when she stopped dead.
“Ah, there you are, Elizabeth.”
Resplendent in a cream linen pants suit with gold jewelry, and perfectly coiffed hair, Ray’s mother looked remarkably out of place in the friendly coffee shop.
“Mrs. Smith.” Lizzie acknowledged her and stayed exactly where she was.
Miranda looked around the shop as if she’d been dumped in a field full of cows. “Is there anywhere we can talk?”
“I’m working.”
“Do you take lunch?”
Angelo tapped Lizzie’s arm. “I’m here if you want to start your lunch early.”
Normally, she would’ve thanked him for his consideration, but now she just wished he hadn’t made the offer in front of Miranda.
Lizzie led the way to the back of the shop and indicated that her visitor should take a seat at the table. Miranda sat down, elegantly crossing one leg over the other to reveal gold sandals and perfectly manicured red toenails.
“You look well, Elizabeth.”
“Thank you.” Lizzie wasn’t willing to give an inch, and simply waited Ray’s mother out.
“You are probably wondering why I’m here.”
“Not really,” Lizzie replied. “We get lots of through traffic.”
“I came to see Coretta.”
“Ah.” Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “Has she been bothering you? I had to ask the sheriff to talk to her.”
“So I hear.” Mrs. Smith paused. “Although one might assume her concerns might have been taken more seriously.”
“She called CPS on me. I’d say she’d been taken seriously.” Lizzie kept her tone pleasant. “Any news on that, by the way? I’d like to know if I have a case against her for defamation of character and, I dunno, outright lying.”
“She’s an elderly lady, and she’s not quite ‘well.’”
“I am aware of that.”
Mrs. Smith set her purse on the table and produced an envelope. “She sent me photographs.”
