Lily prodded.
“Because yesterday Tyler hated Hunter. Almost despised him. I didn’t think I would ever get him to speak civilly with the man, then Hunter took him out for a walk last night and now he’s acting like Hunter’s his best friend.”
“Abby, all this is good stuff,” Claire reminded her, patting her hand.
“I know that,” Abby said, frustrated. “But I just can’t help but think there’s a reason.”
In that precise second, Thadd Peterson, grandson of the Petersons who owned the florist shop, strode into the diner with a long, white box haphazardly strewn across his arm. As if he were a third grader instead of a sophomore in college, he stared at the instruction card, trying to decipher it.
“I think this says Abby Witness,” he said to Abby, handing her the card to get her assistance. “I don’t know an Abby Witness.”
Lily yanked the card from his hands before Abby could take it. “It says ‘Abby Waitress…’ then the next line is, ‘At the diner.”’
“Oh,” Thadd said, passing the box to Abby. “Here you go, then.”
Abby stared at the box. Claire fished into her purse and pulled out a dollar. “For your trouble,” she told Thadd, dismissing him. He looked at the money, grinned and walked away. Claire turned to Abby. “Open it!”
“I’m afraid to.”
“Well, I’m not,” Kristen said, grabbing the box and tugging open the wide red ribbon. Lily lifted the lid and Claire pushed back the white tissue paper.
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