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“Have either of them said why they are considering moving here?”
“Not really. Just that the slower pace of a small town could be helpful for Dad.” Eva hesitated. “I fear it could cause him to die sooner.”
“Eva.”
She shook her head. “I know. That’s harsh. But admit it, we’re all thinking it. Dad can be grumpy going a hundred miles an hour. The speed limit here is barely thirty-five. This could be his doom.”
He hated to admit that he’d had the same thought. It was easier to focus on what it might mean for Chet and Eva and the independence they’d established in Silver Bay. They loved their family. They just weren’t as patient as Dominic and Angelica were with how…enmeshed things could get.
“On a more fun topic, it looks like things with Meg are going well.” Eva grinned at him.
Not expecting the quick change in topic, Chet nearly choked on his bite of croissant.
Eva laughed. “Wow. You’ve got it worse than I thought.”
“Tread carefully, Little Sister.”
“Oh please.” She waved a hand. “Your bark is so much worse than your bite.”
Dottie lifted her head and tilted it toward Eva.
“I’m not sure what got her attention more? Bark or bite.” Chet tore off a piece of pastry and fed it to the dog. Her jowls made a sloppy sound as a mix of drool and crumbs dripped onto the sidewalk.
Chet grabbed a napkin and wiped Dottie’s face.
“Just be careful. Don’t let Dad and Mom know you have a woman in your life. They’ll have the church booked before you even go on your first date.”
Dottie tried to eat the napkin. Chet crumpled the soggy paper and dropped it on his now empty plate.
Eva was right. Having his parents live close would change much more than he’d considered.
“It’s okay,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eye. “They’ll love Meg.”
He tossed the wadded-up napkin at her. She dodged with ease.
Theywouldlove Meg. Chet felt that he could love her, too. He didn’t have long before the Harvest Festival. It was time to think of a third step; going on a real date.
He looked down at Dottie’s pink nose with the one black dot in the center. She really was too cute to resist. Hm… She could be just what he needed.
Chapter Seventeen
Meg pulled offher boots and set them by the coffee table. She flopped onto the sofa, tilted her head toward the ceiling, and propped her feet on the table, grateful for the peace and quiet of her own small space.
It had been a day.
First, running with Chet, during which she talked more than she had in years, at least to a man. Then, inviting him to breakfast where she talked even more, followed by a full day and evening at the diner, and ending at Baylee’s.
Visiting her friend was normally a time to unwind while listening to Baylee talk about her life, something Meg truly enjoyed, but this time, it had turned into Meg spilling everything she had told Rachel. The shocking thing was that it hadn’t been as scary as she’d expected. Baylee was her friend. She’d listened while Meg told her about her dad and her brother.
Meg hadn’t cried as much as she anticipated either. Maybe she’d cried so many tears in the past few years that she was beginning to dry up. Not that her grief wasn’t still vast. But Baylee had covered Meg’s hand with her own and just listened, without questions, and the words flowed, instead of tears.
She knew her story by heart, but Baylee, hearing it for the first time, ended up weeping more than Meg. Instead of feeling worse at her friend’s tears, as she’d always feared, she’d left Baylee’s house feeling better, lighter.
Her eyes wandered to a small cabinet in the corner of the room that held her dad’s record player. It was the kind that couldbe folded up and latched, like a briefcase. The white leather was scuffed and the gold latches not as shiny as they had been. It lay open, a record on it waiting to be played. The shelf below held a stack of vinyl, her dad’s collection. They’d both loved music and agreed that there was nothing like the sound of vinyl being played.
She walked over to it and switched it on, watching as the black record began to spin. She lifted the needle from its cradle with care and set it down gently. There was a quick scratching sound and then the music began.
The voice of Etta James floated through the room as she crooned about trust. Having faith in someone, knowing love would see them through anything. Meg’s dad had said that Etta James’s voice was like listening to the depth of someone’s soul.
