Page 26 of The Wedding Favor

Bruce hefted one of his back legs in the air and proceeded to groom himself.

Gloria put her hands on her hips. “You need to get on out of here. Go on.”

Bruce put his leg down and nestled into George’s lap. Leisurely, he arranged himself into a ball, put a paw over his face, and promptly fell asleep.

“That cat,” Gloria said as she gently closed George’s door, “won’t leave George alone this week.”

“Um…”

“Don’t say it,” she snapped. “It’s ridiculous. He is a cat; not a harbinger of death.”

“If you say so…”

“Well, I do.” Her nose in the air, she marched into her room, and I followed. “Now, we need to find you a plus one.”

“Actually, I already have one.”

Gloria settled into a large upholstered chair. It was one of the few things she kept from the home she’d shared with her husband when she’d sold it. It had been her husband’s favorite chair. The tall back with the ornate golden scroll work and rich, deep purple fabric bore a striking resemblance to a throne.

“And you’re just telling me now?” She stabbed a finger at the other chair in the room. “Sit. Start talking.”

NINE

“My Thomas was quiet and serious and deeply devoted.

He saw the me I didn’t let others see.”

—excerpt from the unpublished memoir,

Darling, I Must Say by Gloria Hayes

On Monday, the Sit-n-Eat was especially slow. By one thirty, the place was empty and I thought we might get to close early. That was fine with me. I hated the slow days, especially lately. It turned out when I wasn’t busy doing my job, it left me with entirely too much time to think—especially about my future.

Or lack thereof.

I pulled out my phone and searched: how to choose the right career.

The first article that popped up sounded optimistic: “Finding a Career that Speaks to Your Soul in Five Easy Steps.”

The first step was to make a list of things that brought me joy:

Chocolate

Classic movies

Old people

Thrift shopping

My family (most of the time)

Two things were abundantly clear: I needed to find more joy and a career as a chocolatier was not out of the question.

The bell above the door chimed. A little girl skipped into the diner and made a beeline for the counter. After she climbed onto one of the red vinyl stools, she grinned, revealing more than one missing tooth. She was dressed in purple jeans and t-shirt, her hair in twin braids.

“Hi.” She grinned and a dimple popped out. “I’m Hallie.”

Ah, Abe’s daughter.