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“Every damn day.”
Franklin’s wife had died of cancer three years ago, and Meg had hired him shortly after. He’d moved to Silver Bay wanting a quiet life in a small town with a job he liked. His love for cooking brought him to Meg’s door and she was grateful.
He brushed the chopped lettuce aside with the knife and reached in the refrigerator for another head. Watching him was like watching a well-orchestrated dance. He moved around with ease and confidence, able to focus on his work while also talking with her.
Meg could understand Franklin opening up to his wife. They were married. Close. Intimate. Meg had never had that. All her relationships had ended badly. After her mother left, her father and brother were the only ones she’d truly let into her heart and they were gone. All of them gone.
Franklin talked of his wife with such love and tenderness. Some days the grief almost buried her. Why would she want to open herself up and love with her whole heart ever again? It brought nothing but pain.
“I see that smoke coming out your ears now,” Franklin teased.
She decided to risk it. “How do you do it, Franklin?”
“Well, I hold the knife like this and then…”
She laughed. “Not chopping. How do you keep going after losing someone like Annabelle? She was everything to you.”
He nodded. “That she was.” He stopped chopping and looked right at her. “But the good Lord gives me what I need every day, one day at a time.” His gaze went back to the cutting board, hishands moving in a rhythm. Theclick,click,clickof the knife against wood echoed through the kitchen.
“Table three wants your famous burger, Frankie.” Maureen’s head appeared in the window between the diner and the kitchen.
“You got it.” He wiped his hands on his apron and moved to the refrigerator again, this time for a ball of ground beef. Before turning to the cooktop, he looked at Meg. “I know you want that pain to go away, Meghan. And I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that it never does. Sure, it fades a bit. Only bites you now and then rather than every day. But do I question whether the pain I have now was worth all the years of love and life I had with Annabelle? Not at all. I gladly mourn the loss of her because that means I got to experience lifewithher and that”—he smiled—“well, that is the most precious thing I’ll ever know.”
As he turned to cook the burger, he said, “No one is meant to be alone in this life. No one.”
*
The dinner hourhad been so slow that Maureen and Franklin agreed to lock things up for Meg at closing time. The staff at the Meg’s Diner was always looking out for her. They loved their jobs and appreciated how hard she worked to keep the place running, so when they could, they helped her take a few extra hours off here and there.
She’d agreed to it, grateful for a night to herself. After spending some time in the office going over accounting and paperwork, she thanked them and headed home.
As she walked, she thought of all that Franklin had said.
“No one is meant to be alone.”
She zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands in the pockets. The sun had gone down and the temperature haddropped. Her house wasn’t far from the diner, so she always walked to and from work.
She wasn’t alone. With all the time she spent at the diner, her employees had become so much more than that. They were her family. Franklin was like a father to her, and Maureen mothered her. More than Meg liked at times. She also had a couple of younger servers who were saving up for college. Meg gave them as many hours as she could, and they looked up to her like an older sister.
Having a significant other wasn’t the only way to go through life without being lonely. Franklin’s words nagged at the back of her mind again as she walked with her head down, her black tennis shoes taking their time with each step. Meg knew he wasn’t implying she had to find a guy to have a full life. He wanted her to be vulnerable with someone. Let them in. She shook her head. Would she ever be ready?
A bell chimed, drawing her from her thoughts. She stopped and looked up and saw she was standing at the bottom of the church steps. The bell chimed eight times, its song echoing into the night. People had been strolling along Seapoint Boulevard when she left the diner, but once she’d turned onto the side street, things had gotten quiet.
As if deciding for her, her feet turned and guided her up the steps. Ornate sconces sat on either side of the entry, shining an inviting glow into the night. Curiosity compelled her to reach for the handle of one of the large oak double doors. It creaked as she pulled it open.
She poked her head in, then stepped inside.
It was an older church, built in the early 1900s. It had been maintained well, thanks to the people of Silver Bay. The stained-glass windows were now in the shadows like art that had been hung without full lighting. Candles were peppered around thesanctuary and lined along a table up front. The wooden pews were empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
Drawn by something outside of herself, Meg walked to a pew in the back and sat down. The chandeliers had an old-world pirate feel to them, their dim lighting casting a peaceful glow. She smiled at the memory of sitting between her dad and her brother on Sunday mornings. The two of them would whisper until their dad nudged them to quiet down. The pew squeaked beneath her as she shifted her weight, also causing her to recall how uncomfortable the seating was, and yet she had no desire to leave.
A door in the corner near the front of the church opened and Rachel walked through. Meg tensed, concerned that she shouldn’t be in there at that time of night, but Rachel gave her a welcoming smile.
“Hi, Meg. It’s good to see you. May I join you for a moment or would you like to be alone?”
Alone.
Funny how that word kept popping up.
