Casey helps her into the booth beside him, then drapes an arm around her as she settles into the crook of his shoulder.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say with a smile. “Shep said you were behind the Christmas tree outside High Noon. It was the perfect touch.”
“I’m gladsomeoneappreciates it.” She glances at Shep and Casey, giving them both a pointed look. “Those specialty drinks with festive names were all me too.”
“The Bootylicious Blitzenisan iconic name.” I grin.
“That was one of my better ideas, if I do say so myself,” Amy states proudly before taking a sip of orange juice.
“Since you’re the brains behind this operation, I’m thinking I should hire you and let this husband of yours learn from the sidelines,” Shep says, tipping his head toward Casey.
“Just ’cause I handle all the boring stuff like scheduling and inventory instead of naming drinks after famous reindeer doesn’t mean I’m not pulling my weight,” Casey mutters.
Amy pats his chest with a teasing laugh. “Relax, babe, your job’s safe from me. I rather like you earning the money while I find ways to spend it.” She cuts a mock glare at Shep. “You wouldn’t dare fire him, not when we’re about to have another mouth to feed.” She rubs her belly for emphasis.
Shep grunts, but there’s a softness in his gaze.
I appreciate that his friends can playfully challenge him while offering unwavering support. He may have believed he was alone for all these years, but he had plenty of people ready and waiting to embrace him with open arms.
“On a brighter note,” Amy chimes, “Casey gave me my Christmas present early, and I love it. Thank you, Shep. The rocking chair is perfect.”
Shep waves her off. “It’s no trouble. Once the baby’s here and has a name, I’ll engrave it.”
“That’ll be really special.” Amy beams. “Bring Noelle along and we’ll make a proper evening of it. I’m sure I’ll be craving some adult company beyond my hovering mother or my worrywart husband.” She leans over and pecks Casey on the cheek.
Shep gives my thigh a squeeze as our eyes meet, heavy with unspoken sadness. The reality that I’ll be gone soon hurts more than I could’ve ever anticipated.
Just then, Marge arrives carrying a tray loaded with drinks and our breakfast. My biscuits and gravy are piping hot and look downright delicious.
“Enjoy your meal, y’all. If there’s anything else I can get you, just holler,” she says before moving on to take another table’s order.
A chorus ofthank-yousfills the air before we dig in.
I cut into a steaming biscuit, stab a forkful, and blow on it before taking a bite. The sausage gravy is creamy and peppery, while the biscuits are light, fluffy, and buttery.
“This might be the best breakfast I’ve ever had,” I say between bites.
Shep chuckles. “Glad you like it.”
I lean in close, letting my lips brush his ear. “Thanks for bringing me here and sharing this tradition with me. I wouldn’t trade being here with you on Christmas Eve for anything.”
“Glad you’re here too, Sunshine. More than you know.”
I’m outside the diner, glancing at Shep through the window, while he handles the bill. He’s still at the cash register whereMarge is talking his ear off. Her warm smile makes it obvious she’s happy he stopped by. From this angle, I can’t see Shep’s face, but his posture is relaxed, and he seems completely at ease with her.
Another reason I love small towns: The connections people form never fade, no matter how long someone’s been away. I can’t help but feel a pang of envy, longing for a community that is close and unshakable. I have Gemma and my parents, but there’s something special about having an entire town embrace you like family, even if you aren’t related by blood.
It’s one of the things I’ve missed about small-town life. I was young when we moved to the city, but I still remember the neighbors who stopped by with treats, the backyard birthday parties, and the small acts of kindness that made ordinary days unforgettable.
Just then, Casey and Amy step outside, with him fussing with her coat zipper as if it’s the most important job he has. Seems I’m not the only one whose man is obsessed with safety and comfort.
“Noelle, there you are,” Amy says in a sing-song voice. “Shep should be out soon.”
Casey snorts. “Sure, as soon as Marge lets him get a word in edgewise. Serves him right for insisting on paying for our meal. I tried slipping Marge some cash, but Shep threatened to withhold his ma’s lemon meringue recipe that she’s been after for years.”
I giggle. “What did Marge do?”
“Told me my money was no good at the diner,” he says, clutching his chest dramatically. “Shep’s never been one to play fair. When he wants something, he doesn’t quit until he gets it.” He tucks a few twenties back into his wallet. “It’s really good seeing him act like his old self again. He hasn’t been this happy in ages, and it’s all thanks to you.”
