I stifled a yawn, then stretched my legs as much as I could in my cramped chair as I sat and waited for the lawyer to walk in.

It had been a long two weeks. Lots of late nights. The younger girls were putting together the flyers and decorations with their friends—I told myself I could trust them, since it was their jobs on the line, too. Still, I got the final say in everything. Meanwhile, I went around to the businesses in the area and got donations—raffle prizes, a few kegs of beer, a few local bands to play. The high school had agreed on the use of the gym. And we were selling tickets like hotcakes at the diner.

It wasn’t just the big fundraiser, either. Some of our customers had come up with ideas to raise more money. A town-wide garage sale, a car wash—though the biting air made that doubtful. Maybe a winter festival before the holidays. We would have enough time for that. I just wondered who had the time to put it all together. I was burning the candle at both ends already.

Amanda hurried in. “I’m sorry,” she murmured before giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “I was just on the phone with the owner, and I assured him we’d have the bid money together. Did you get in touch with the bank today?”

I shook my head. “Too early for them. I had planned on calling after the meeting here.”

She nodded, distracted. “Okay. Cool. We’re so close on this, I know we can do it.”

“Me, too.” I loved that she thought of us as working together. It wasn’t just my issue. She was in it with me. I couldn’t wait for the two of us to maybe relax and enjoy ourselves at the event the next day.

The door opened, and we both sat up a little straighter. “Thank you for being here this morning.” He looked at us from over the top of his spectacles. They weren’t glasses. On a man like him, with his little bit of frizzled white hair and liver spots on the backs of his hands, they were spectacles.

“I’m not used to being on this side of the desk,” Amanda admitted with a shaky laugh.

“Are you a lawyer?” Mr. Steadman asked.

“I am. Was. Well, am, but I’m between jobs at the moment.” I squeezed her hand when she let out that shaky laugh again.

“You’re the only two individuals mentioned in Dr. Miller’s Will,” Steadman told us. “So it’s just the three of us this morning.”

“I can’t imagine what he would’ve left me,” I muttered for probably the tenth time that day.

“He obviously thought highly of you,” Amanda reminded me.

I looked at the lawyer—for what, I didn’t know. Maybe a clue to what I was about to hear.

He cleared his throat. “It’s best that we get started now.” He opened a folder and cleared his throat again before reading. “I, Craig Jonathon Miller, being of sound mind…” All the legalese and boilerplate stuff went on and on. I couldn’t stop wondering why he would leave me anything. We fell out of close touch for years and years. He must’ve added me when he was on death’s door. When had the lawyer been by the house for Craig to sign the papers? I guessed it had to be when I was at work.

The old man got to the good stuff. “To my friend, Amanda Greenley, I leave ownership of the house at 523 Sycamore Avenue.”

She gasped. “His house?” We stared at each other. Her eyes were like saucers.

“She is free to do with the property as she chooses,” he continued. His house. I watched the wheels spinning in her head. She couldn’t make sense out of it. I, on the other hand, was thrilled. I dared hope that it would mean her staying in town.

“And to my other friend, Dawson Holmes, I leave my life savings which, at the time of the signing of this document, totals three hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars. He knows what I think he should do with it. I hope it gives him much happiness.”

I reeled back in the chair. No way. Not that much money. No money at all. I couldn’t understand why he would do it even if it were completely something he would do. He wanted me to buy the diner, didn’t he? Of course. That was what he meant.

And I could. Amanda’s hand clamped down on mine. She was thinking the same thing I was.

The rest of what the lawyer read meant nothing to me, since I couldn’t hear it over the roaring in my ears. None of it made sense. I hadn’t done enough to deserve that kind of money. I hoped he didn’t think I talked about wanting to buy the diner so he would give me the money for it. The thought was so heavy; I could hardly breathe. At the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about what a miracle it was.

When it was over, and Steadman went quiet, the silence was thick. Amanda was just as shell-shocked as I was. The old man cleared his throat, and it shook me out of my shock.

“Thank you,” I managed to mumble.

“Once the estate is settled, and taxes are paid, you’ll receive a check,” he explained. He turned to Amanda. “And I’ll need you to sign the papers of transfer on the deed to the house.”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do that.” She wasn’t thinking. She was like a parrot, just saying words. I knew how that felt.

Minutes later, we walked down the street side-by-side. I was on the phone with the bank while Amanda confirmed with the current owners that I had the offer in place—well, mostly in place. I still needed the check. She stopped, putting her hand on my arm to stop me, too, and her eyes lit up. “Yes? Really? That’s great. I agree—it’s better for the town to keep things as-is. We’ll be up to sign the paperwork on Monday. Thank you so much.”

I hung up and turned to her. “Yeah?” she asked, nodding.

“Yes.” She squealed and threw her arms around my neck. We were in business. I picked her up, laughing, and just then it was only the two of us in the world. When I put her down, she pulled my face to hers for a deep kiss.

“We did it,” she beamed.

“Craig did it.”

“You did, too.”

“We all did.” She took my hand. “We all did it together. One more thing we did together.” I kissed the top of her head when she leaned against my chest. It all seemed unreal, after all that working and planning. It was over.

* * *

Bailey and the other girls got to work on changing the banners from the Save Our Diner event to the First Annual Dr. Craig Miller Fund event. It seemed appropriate—we had already sold the tickets, after all, and everybody who came by the diner to celebrate once the news got out agreed it seemed like the right thing to do. The Fund would help people who couldn’t pay their bills, just the way Craig would when he was alive.

What would he think about everything he did? I wondered as I walked into the school gym, which had been transformed since I was there to set up the food. The decorating committee had worked their asses off. People were already coming in and setting themselves up at tables, and I said hi to just about everybody I passed. It was incredible, the thought that they all wanted to be part of what I started even when it wasn’t about saving the diner anymore.

The one person I didn’t see as time passed was the only person I wanted to be with. She had been working overtime putting together the paperwork for the sale while I was busy coordinating the event. It had been days since we had the time to be together for more than a quick cup of coffee. I couldn’t wait until we had time to settle down and just be us. If she wanted to.

That was the one thing we hadn’t talked about, mostly because there hadn’t been the time. Was she going to keep the house or sell it and move on? It seemed like she wanted to be part of the town for good, but I knew better than to assume anything with her. I wasn’t about to let her go—I’d do anything to keep her with me—but not if she didn’t want to stay. I wouldn’t be that man.