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“Easier.” Frank snorted like I was a silly new recruit. “Easy is what you make it.”

“It never felt…lonely here?” I pressed. They had to have been the only openly queer couple in the area for years and years.

“It’s home. Always been.” Leon peered at me, undoubtedly seeing far more than I wanted. “Henri sure wanted it to be a home for you too, you know. I remember you. Seventeen and skinny with big joints and more than a little lost. The sleepless nights you gave Henri.”

“I did?” I never thought she’d cared enough to deviate from her careful routine.

“Of course. She thought the world of you.” Leon frowned like I should have known.

“Bragged on you every chance she got.” Frank also glowered, making me feel about three inches high for not appreciating Aunt Henri more.

“I never realized you were friends.”

“Birds of a feather and all that.” Leon’s expression changed from censure to smug. “She might not have gotten out much, but she did love a good neighborly gossip.”

“Which you were only too happy to give her.” Frank rolled his eyes at Leon, but there was also a fair bit of affection in his tone. “Honorary town scribe, this one.”

“Huh.” Despite my preoccupation with all things Knox, a small light started blinking in my brain. “Leon, do you remember the summer Worth Stapleton’s mother disappeared?”

“Of course. Frank was out every night for weeks with the search parties.”

“Nasty business, but better that than the other type of parties that summer.” Frank groaned, stretching a little.

“What parties?” My scalp tingled.

“Oh, nothing you’d remember.” Chuckling, Leon waved a hand. “More housewife gossip. Who could sell the most pie pans and pizza stones.”

“Some of our regular clients kept inviting Leon.” Frank huffed like he was growing weary of the conversation, but Leon kept his affable smile firmly in place.

“I do make a nice spinach dip.”

“Leon, could I stop by later?” I asked, already mentally composing a message to Holden. “I’d like to show you some pictures.”

“Sure thing. I probably have a few more Henri stories for you too.”

“I’d like that.” My mouth went dry and chalky. “I didn’t guess…”

“That you were the apple of her eye?” Frank laughed, but he was already turning the cart slightly away from mine.

“More like the marionberry of her pie.” Leon chortled, even as the bottom threatened to fall out of my stomach. She’d picked me for the house. Not because there was no one else, but because, apparently, she’d loved me. And I’d never known. Or appreciated. My insides kept churning as Leon continued, “But those first few months until you found your people…?” He whistled low, then sobered. “But isn’t that life? Doesn’t matter who or where. Find your people. Find yourself.”

“Yup. You asked about lonely. Our people were always here.” Frank gave me a hard stare. “And where else were we going to get to work together every day? Sure, Portland had the bars—”

“And the boys.” Leon’s chuckle shifted to an adorable giggle coming from someone well past seventy. “But we had each other, and the town had us. Silently, then quietly, and now Knox is talking about a public retirement party at the community center.”

“Pillars of Safe Harbor, that’s us.” Frank shrugged. “Better get on with our shopping list.”

“Take care, Monroe.” Leon patted my arm as they both walked past me. “Take care of our boy too.”

Ouch. I nodded even though my heart was breaking because I had no clue how to take care of Knox. I wanted to. I needed to. But I wasn’t sure if I’d get the chance, especially with him not wanting to tell Rob.

After the encounter with Frank and Leon, I was strangely sentimental. Find your people. Find yourself. Knox was absolutely my people, but he wasn’t the only one. I might not have a huge social circle, but I did have a few friends and a sudden need to see them. Since I didn’t have any frozen items, I didn’t feel guilty swinging by Blessed Bean for a refill.

“Two cups in one day?” Sam greeted me as soon as I opened the door. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“An unwillingness to brew a pot at home for only me,” I answered a little too truthfully.

“Ah.” Sam narrowed his eyes, seeing all as usual. “Another cold brew? Or could I interest you in the special?” He gestured at the young person next to him behind the counter. “Weaver here is our newest trainee. We were just going over blended drinks.”

Weaver was gangly, almost alarmingly thin, with faded shaggy rainbow hair, a thick stack of plastic bracelets, and an assortment of buttons on old-fashioned leather suspenders. They had the air of a spooked rabbit looking for a hole in the fence, so Sam definitely had his work cut out.

“Sure. I’ll try one.” I tried to give Weaver an encouraging smile before turning back to Sam. Like Frank and Leon, Sam had always lived here, never left, and had carved out a nice little life for himself. “How did you get started in the coffee shop business anyway?”

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