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I smiled as he opened the passenger door of his truck parked right at the curb. He helped me get in, then went around to the driver’s side and hopped in.
“Where do you feel like eatin’?” Lincoln asked as he started the truck.
I shrugged. “Anywhere is fine. Breakfast is all the same wherever you go.”
“Then we’ll stop at the Beaufort Café. It’s on the way, and they have the best pancakes in town.”
As we drove, I wondered if the same people worked at the local diner. Many of our friends and some of my parents’ friends had worked there back when we were in high school. How would they react when they saw me? What would they think about Lincoln and me being together? Gossip spread like wildfire in small towns like Beaufort, and I didn’t want any rumors being spread about why I was back or about my love life. Or lack thereof.
I could only imagine what was said when I’d left. Not many people knew about my pregnancy since my dad forced me to hide it. Everything was done out of town— doctor’s appointments, the adoption agency, and even Piper’s birth. I wore baggy clothes to school and church to cover my bump when I’d started showing. And Piper was born in early August, so I didn’t have to miss school. My dad didn’t want anyone to know about the sin I’d committed; about my betrayal of him and the Lord. The only people in Beaufort who knew were Beth and Lincoln’s best friend, Tommy. And they’d kept our secret ever since, just as they’d promised.
After we parked, we went inside and sat at a booth in the corner of the quaint café by a window. The place was packed, but that was how weekends were at most of the diners in town, especially for breakfast. Most closed after two in the afternoon, so prime time was breakfast and lunch.
I glanced around at the employees and patrons. There were several familiar faces, but I was bad with names and had tried to block out most of my past, so I was drawing blanks when trying to place how I knew them.
Lincoln ordered us some coffee to start, and the waitress rushed away to pick up some dirty dishes at a table across from ours that had just been vacated.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Lincoln asked.
I brought my eyes up to his and nodded. “I’ve been practicing different things I want to say, but I don’t know if they’ll come out the way I want.”
Lincoln cracked a smile. “Same. I pretty much talked to myself all night trying to prepare. Ten years is a lot of time to make up for.”
You’re telling me.
The waitress returned with our coffees. She was young, probably right out of high school, and I wondered who her parents were and if I knew them.
When I was a young girl, around eleven or twelve, I knew practically everyone in Beaufort. Well, at least the ones who went to my father’s church every Sunday. Now, I barely knew anyone and couldn’t remember what it’d been like to be that young girl with no cares in the world.
I watched Lincoln as he stirred some sugar and creamer in his coffee and chatted with the waitress. He chuckled, and lines crinkled near his eyes and dimples creased his cheeks. I thought about the countless laughs I’d missed, and the smiles I hadn’t brought to his lips; the lost memories we could’ve added to the ones we’d already had.
I wished things had been different, and we could’ve followed through on our plan.
“Liv?”
“Yeah?”
Lincoln smiled warmly. “Do you know what you want to order?”
The way he was looking at me gave me the impression that that wasn’t the first time he’d asked the question. “Oh, uh, sorry,” I stammered as I picked up the menu and quickly scanned over the selection. “I’ll just have some eggs in a basket, please. And a side of fruit.”
The waitress jotted down my order, then rushed off again.
My eyes met Lincoln’s, and his grin spread wider. “Daydreaming like always, huh?”
“Not all things change.” I coyly smiled as I poured some cream in my coffee. One thing I liked about Beaufort Café was they served fresh cream with their coffee, not the artificial packaged junk.
Lincoln arched a brow. “Is that so?”
My cheeks flushed, and heat coiled in my lower abdomen from the look he was giving me. I knew what that look meant and what it could lead to, and I couldn’t deny that I felt the same. I wanted things with Lincoln to go there.
But we needed to focus on Piper first. Then we could explore whatever was happening between us. “I guess we’ll find out.”
We stared at each other for several seconds, tension building like a taut rope before Lincoln cleared his throat. “Let me look at that list you made.”
I furrowed my brows for a moment, still caught up in Lincoln’s heated gaze. When I realized what he was talking about, I set my mug down and started digging through my purse.
Lincoln smiled as I handed him the folded-up piece of paper. I wrote down everything that I wanted to know about Piper’s life that I could think of—favorite food, favorite subject, favorite color, what extracurriculars she was in, and her hobbies. I wanted to know as much as I could about the daughter I’d lost.
