if his emotional response to being abandoned had mirrored hers—equal parts betrayal and relief.
About a year later, Maggie had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, still at an early stage. The medical crisis had shaken Fred enough that he’d started courting her again. Josh had what all children-of-divorce secretly dreamed of—his parents back together, his family a healed whole.
With Brenna as the fly in the ointment. Awkward.
Ancient history, she told herself. She’d risen above her unorthodox upbringing, loved the entire Pierce family; she was a productive member of society. Whose previous boyfriend dumped you because you relate better to animals than people.
Funny, he hadn’t seemed to mind that about her when he’d hired her; her last serious boyfriend was also the town veterinarian. She’d enjoyed working in the clinic, but had always known that she wouldn’t be working as his receptionist/critter referee forever. Their breakup nearly two years ago had helped motivate her to get her small business off the ground.
Adam parked the car, and Brenna snapped her cell phone closed. Now that she’d taken care of Patch, nothing else in her evening was time-sensitive. No doubt she’d see at least a dozen people she knew inside. She’d try to reach Josh, but if he wasn’t home, either, she was sure she could get a lift from someone. Maybe even someone who owned a pet and would be amenable to trading a favor in exchange for future discounts.
Geoff didn’t wait for his dad to remove the keys from the ignition before bounding out of the vehicle. His sister, the moody one, took her time.
“This is the home of phenomenal food?” she asked skeptically. “Doesn’t look like much.”
Brenna slanted a reproving glance over her shoulder. “Friendly word of warning—don’t diss the Diner within earshot of any Mistletoe natives. They’ll run you out of town.”
The girl pursed her lips as if she wasn’t entirely certain Brenna was kidding—which she only half was. Folks around these parts took the Diner pretty seriously. The mayor’s son proposed to his fiancée here over a shared dessert of gooey, sweet pecan pie.
“I’m not that hungry,” Eliza finally said.
Brenna rolled her eyes inwardly; she was tempted to call the sky blue just to see what color the contrary girl would argue it was. “You may not be hungry yet, but you will be.” No one, not even a rebellious preteen in the throes of a snit, could resist the smells inside.
As they strolled up the sidewalk, Brenna enumerated the local favorites on the dinner menu. After the past forty minutes of detailing great food and Mistletoe summer activities, she felt as if Belle Fulton from the Chamber of Commerce might pop up any moment to offer her a job. And Brenna was uniquely qualified to tell the Varners about the Chattavista Lodge on the outskirts of town, where they’d be staying, because her stepbrother worked there.
Josh had always been a big fan of the outdoors. In the year between her mom’s defection and Maggie’s illness, Brenna had lied shamelessly to Josh and Fred about her supposed love for fishing and camping, desperate to fit into the testosterone-driven household. She’d wanted to be the Perfect Daughter. Eliza’s polar opposite. If Fred had told Brenna the sky was taupe with chartreuse polka dots, she would have agreed just to ingratiate herself with the Pierces.
These days, Brenna could appreciate the fresh air her occupation provided, but she hadn’t voluntarily slept on the ground in decades. Josh had been seeing the same girl for two months, and Brenna teased him that if he wanted to keep her, he’d make sure any romantic getaways included indoor plumbing. Not that Brenna had teased him recently—she was currently dodging him. Now that Josh was happily in love, a newfound convert to committed relationships, he seemed gung-ho on setting up Brenna with every eligible bachelor between here and Atlanta. His girlfriend, Natalie Young, was just as bad. Of course, she was also the local florist, so she considered flourishing romances good for business.
The Diner hostess warned that there would be a short wait while someone cleaned off a table. Brenna tried reaching her stepbrother but got his voice mail, then started to call Arianne Waide but realized that, with her sister-in-law, Rachel, having a baby, Ari was probably at the hospital with the rest of the family. Brenna dialed Quinn again and left a message for her to call whenever she could. If nothing else, some local firemen she knew had just walked in and Brenna could bum a ride from them.
Considering the crowd, they were seated pretty quickly. Dinner rush at the Diner started a few minutes before five and lasted well into the night. The hostess showed them to a booth, and Morgan slid in first, followed by her father. Geoff sat opposite them and Brenna chose to sit next to the boy rather than his thoroughly attractive dad. Eliza surprised her by practically leaping in after her, sandwiching Brenna. She didn’t get a strong sense that Eliza liked her, but the girl must really dislike the idea of sitting with Adam.
Had he actually done something to bring on her wrath, or was Eliza just one of those clichéd mutinous adolescents?
Fifteen minutes later, after the waitress delivered a round of lemonades and took their orders, Brenna thought she was getting a clearer picture of why the girl was so hostile. When Adam tried to draw Eliza into a discussion by asking if she would play soccer again this coming fall, the girl snorted. Brenna wondered if anyone had ever pointed out how unattractive that particular habit was.
“I haven’t played soccer in two years,” Eliza said, her tone reading duh but her expression telegraphing genuine hurt. “I play volleyball now. Mom said only two activities so that my grades don’t slip, and I picked volleyball and dance.”
Adam visibly cringed. “Right. I’m sorry I forgot that.”
Seated on the girl’s left, Brenna barely caught her muttered, “Like you even knew in the first place.” Adam engaged his son in less-charged conversation about what kind of car he wanted to save up for, but then made an apparent misstep when Geoff mentioned that he couldn’t wait to take his girlfriend out on an honest-to-goodness car date.
Managing not to look too nervous about that prospect, Adam asked, “So how did you and Deana meet?”
Geoff shook his head, sighing loudly, and Brenna assumed that the boy was embarrassed to have his love life be the topic of dinner conversation. But Morgan tugged on the side of Adam’s shirt.
“Daddy, it’s Gina,” she said, her little face pinched with worry. As if she feared his mistake might create even more tension. “Remember?”
Though the situations probably had nothing in common, something in the girl’s voice made Brenna flash to her own past, the careful way she’d had to treat her mother. How she’d hesitantly vacillated between reminding her mom that no, they were no longer in Lexington, they’d moved on to Tennessee, and not wanting to say anything that might set her off. As an adult looking back, Brenna suspected her mother had suffered from some sort of bipolar disorder and hoped that, wherever the woman was now, she’d sought help. But as a child, Brenna had never known what to think about her mother’s moods and their nomadic lifestyle. Brenna had spent more than a decade walking on eggshells—the unpleasant habit had stayed with her far longer than her mother had.
Morgan, on the other hand, showed few signs of emotional scarring and had already bounced back from her moment of concern. She was chanting, “Geoff and Gina. Gina and Geoff. They both start with Gs that think they’re Js. I can spell my name! Who wants to hear?”
By the time their food arrived, Morgan had spelled out her siblings’ names, as well as her own and the words cat, fox and Dan.
