I hadn’t been in this town long enough to be familiar with it. Even though the island was small, there were times details escaped me. It was easier to have Dottie drop me off than to risk getting lost. When I stepped inside, the flurry of activity startled me. Before I could get caught up in the anxiety that lingered in unfamiliar places, Jared—the guy who hired me yesterday—stepped out of his office.

“Hey, Chelsea. You’re right on time. Everyone is loading up so go grab a seat in the van.”

I’d bartended back home while I was in college, and it was an easy gig to fall back on. The tips were good without an abundance of hours, and while this job wasn’t in a club, the owner of the catering company assured me their high-end clientele tipped well and made the obscure hours worth the effort. Yet money wasn’t really a driving force. It gave me something to do and people to interact with, and there weren’t many career choices available in Geneva Key.

I didn’t speak to anyone during the ride. Instead, I took note of how we all looked similar in our tuxedo shirts and black slacks. The others had met before, but no one made conversation with me, so I watched the beach pass until we pulled up to a palatial home that made my own feel like a shoebox. Once we entered through the back door and were assigned to stations, I realized the vast opulence in this place left me cold. Dottie’s house was nothing in comparison—it felt lived in, not preserved. Her little three-bedroom bungalow breathed life into anyone who walked through the door and quickly became a place I never wanted to leave.

The bar had been set up and stocked before I arrived, leaving me with nothing to do other than wait for a customer. Then before any of the guests arrived, the host paid me a visit. I plastered a smile on my face and willed my hands not to shake in her presence. She looked familiar, although wealth had a way of making things obscure. The woman looked like every other millionaire I’d seen here since I arrived.

She didn’t wait for me to greet her before she informed me of her expectations. “My guests will be arriving shortly, so let me get you familiar quickly. We only serve top shelf, you’re not to accept tips, and if anyone has the audacity to request a beer, it needs to be served in a chilled glass. Under no circumstances do I care to find empty bottles littering my home. Understood?”

A tremor shook my right hand, and I stuffed it in my pocket, hoping she hadn’t seen it. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jared made sure I knew that all hosts and their guests should be addressed with respect. The woman who’d never bothered to introduce herself gave me a quick nod and moved to the next employee, likely giving him a similar welcome. It shouldn’t have bothered me. I was being paid to do a job, though I didn’t think it would hurt if she smiled or even said hello.

I noticed with the arrival of the first party goer, the hostess had a different face—and likely personality—for those in her circle. Her plastic expression never dropped, and I watched her with interest until someone under the age of fifty came into view. He was attractive and definitely tall, but it wasn’t his good looks that held my interest. The way he carried himself told me he was no stranger to this type of gathering. He had a part to play, and he did it well; however, his eyes gave away his unhappiness.

The blue-eyed boy with mussed hair was clearly the adult son of the host I’d met earlier. And since no introductions had been made, I just sat back and watched his social torture unfold while I filled drinks for his parents’ privileged friends. That was until I lost track of him when a wave of thirsty old men created a line in front of me.

By the time he’d made another appearance, the night was nearly over. My legs had grown stiff, and I desperately needed to move. Without anyone to relieve my post, I distracted myself by eavesdropping on the conversation a few feet away.

When his father clapped his shoulder, I expected him to smile. Instead, he appeared bored and maybe even irritated.

Then his father spoke to the other man standing with them. “He’s making the old man proud, Doug.”

There was no recognition that crossed his son’s face.

“Following in his father’s footsteps in the Financial District in New York.” His father laid it on thick.

So he lived in New York. It didn’t surprise me. He had the air of a city dweller—Chicago had been full of them. Wealthy yuppies who had escaped their parents’ world only to start one of their own in another town thinking they were different than the privilege they’d grown up in. While he didn’t give off the arrogant vibe, there was no denying he wasn’t here on his own accord.

“That’s a fine career choice. I’m sure your father has been a plethora of help and a wealth of added opportunities.” Doug gave his acquaintance a smug look that made me want to smack the taste out of his mouth.

There was something off, like the young guy wanted to challenge Doug’s statement, or maybe even his father’s. Instead, he bit his tongue. With a nod of indifference, he politely excused himself, an obligatory smile straining his lips—it was the same plastic grin his mother had repeatedly shown throughout the evening.

I straightened my spine when he made a beeline for the bar I tended, not wanting him to see my discomfort. I didn’t have much longer on the clock, and I needed to make it to the end of the shift. Dottie had put in a good word with Jared to get me the job, and I couldn’t let her down. She’d lived in this town for longer than I’d been alive—I’d make her proud if it killed me.

He glanced over his shoulder at the group of men his father still talked to when he stepped up. When I asked him what I could get him, he was either distracted or didn’t hear me. I didn’t think my voice had trembled, so I tried again.

“Sir?”

When he turned his focus to me, he was clearly taken aback. His crystal-blue eyes stared at my hair for an especially long time without meeting my gaze. I hoped he was admiring my unusual strawberry-blond hair and not something inappropriate clinging to it. His attention made me uncomfortable, so I cleared my throat, hoping he’d respond.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

“Do you have any beer back there?”

“Unlikely anything you’d drink.” I winked at him, amused by the request. I’d been standing here for hours, and not one person had ordered a beer.

He looked like he needed to loosen his tie, prop his feet up, and kick back on the couch to unwind. I couldn’t stop the mischievous grin that lifted the corners of my lips.

“Let me guess, Amstel Light? Or maybe Miller?”

“Both. Bottle. No draft.”

He shook his head. “Miller, please. My mother thinks Amstel is a beer women enjoy because it has fewer calories, although she doesn’t know a single female who consumes anything other than expensive wine. And Miller is her generation’s form of a microbrew, I guess. Somehow, it’s perfectly acceptable for a man to drink barley and hops, yet a woman should only partake of grapes.”

“Glasses are chilled. Bottles don’t leave the bar.”

“Of course.” He wasn’t the slightest bit surprised.

I chanced to offer an introduction over the top of the bar. “I’m Chelsea. You must be a relative of the couple throwing the party.” I’d already figured out the lineage, but I wanted to keep him talking. I hadn’t met anyone here, and even though he lived in New York, it made me feel normal even if it were fleeting.

“Carpenter. My friends call me Carp. And yes, the only child of said hosts.”

“Sorry for your luck.” My tone was playful, and he clearly noted my comment was in jest. “I take it Carpenter is your last name?”

He nodded as I handed him the glass. I couldn’t say with any certainty what he was thinking, though the taste of crappy beer didn’t appear to sit well on his palette. And the urge I’d seen to toss one back hadn’t driven him to down the one he had in hand. He needed something far stronger to escape whatever he ran from.

“It is.”

“Do you have a first name?”

His hesitation to share his first name was odd, but he finally acquiesced. “James.”

“Well, Carp, you’ve been the highlight of my evening. I get off in an hour if you don’t have anything to do.” I’d never been so forward and had no idea where my confidence had come from. I didn’t have a car here and had no way to get back to Dottie’s—although, I knew she’d understand and rescue me when I called.

“Sure. There’s not much to do here. I guess we could go down to the beach. The moon’s full so there’s plenty of light.”

“Sounds good. I’ll just meet you at the back door they had us come in. Work for you?”

An hour later, I released the tension in my legs when I found a bathroom and changed clothes. Then I met Carp at the designated spot. Carp. It was odd, but James didn’t fit him—it was too…formal. I’d just try not to imagine an ugly fish when I addressed him.

He appraised me the same way he’d done at the bar an hour earlier. Except this time, he didn’t stop at my hair; his eyes roamed from head to toe without bothering to hide the fact he was checking me out. Yet where he’d been fascinated by my hair then, he now stared at my leather flip-flops, or maybe it was the ink covering my feet.

“Do you live around here?” I asked, hoping to get a narrower indication of where I’d find him on a map. We’d been playing the get-to-know-you version of twenty questions since our toes had hit the sand.

“No. New York City.” The lack of details he gave wasn’t lost on me. Either he was a private person or a guarded one. “You?”

“On the other side of the island about two blocks from the water. It’s my friend Dottie’s house. It’s nothing like your parents’, but I love stepping out on the back porch and hearing the waves in the distance.” There was no indication of how much information he had an interested in learning, and since I hadn’t had anyone my age to talk to since I’d moved here, I chattered away, believing he was fascinated. “I moved down here a few weeks ago from Chicago.”

“Do you bartend full time?”

As much as I enjoyed the company, it was obvious by the looks and the lack of meaningful conversation that Carp was more interested in losing himself in my body than getting acquainted with me. I didn’t want to cheapen myself, but relationships weren’t a possibility, and I had the same carnal desire anyone else did.

“No. I just do it to earn extra money.” I didn’t offer him anything further regarding my employment. Nothing I said would compare to whatever he did in New York, and I wasn’t interested in tasting regret. Not everyone lived to be a millionaire.

The moonlight reflected off the water, and my mind wandered momentarily to the endlessness of the ocean: the crashing waves, rolling tide, and the way it married the horizon, even in darkness. The surf lapped at our now bare feet, and the warm sand between my toes reminded me that I now called this island paradise home. The simple things in life could be monumental if we allowed ourselves to appreciate what nature gave us for free.

“What do you do for a living?” I hated that question—moreover I hated that Americans defined their identities with careers. However, he’d just done the same to me, and he seemed bored strolling along the shore in silence.

“Wealth management.”

“Ah, so the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” My brow rose, not in judgment rather humor. There was no denying he and his father weren’t close just in the little time I’d seen them together, yet he’d followed in the old man’s footsteps. I kept my gaze in front of me.

I expected him to present a firm argument against my assumption. Instead, he dismissed the comment the same way he’d done his father’s friends at the party—with dignified grace.

“Other than bartending, what else do you like to do?” There was nothing in his tone to indicate he had any real interest in my hobbies or preferences. He hadn’t been rude; in fact, he’d been rather pleasant, even though both of us were well aware this wasn’t going anywhere long term.

I quit walking, and he stopped a couple steps ahead of me when he realized I wasn’t next to him. “Can we just be honest here?” I didn’t say the words with accusation, yet the question was pointed.

He turned back, closed the gap between us, and met my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t live here. I’m not going to New York. Obviously, the two of us are attracted to each other, and neither plan on any kind of relationship. Am I right so far?”

His shoulders raised with an involuntary shrug he seemed embarrassed by. “I guess so.”

I glanced around the deserted beach and then pulled a condom out of my pocket. “I’m not interested in romance, Carp, and I don’t do relationships. There are miles of desolate beach and nothing other than moonlight to disturb us.” My forwardness caught him by surprise.

His brow furrowed in contemplation. Carp mulled something over, and the silence hung between us while I waited. “Have you ever had sex in the sand?”

I shrugged and cocked my head to the side without answering.

“It’s like rubbing sandpaper on your ass while you try to get off.”

“Okay, I’ll take the bottom.” My coy grin lit a fire in his eyes. The cool blue warmed in front of me. “Or you could sit, and I could ride. Whichever suits you.” I’d never been brazen. The girl speaking to Carp was as much a stranger to me as she was to the man before me.

But sometimes, when you have nothing left to lose, you have to take the bull by the horns. I refused to live by anyone else’s rules anymore. Life didn’t hand you what you wanted—you had to take it without regret. And just like that, I stripped off the tank top that covered my thin frame and glanced at my flat stomach when I shimmied out of my shorts. I dropped each piece onto the sand in a pile that I stepped over to close the gap between us. Hunger marked his face and lust traced his eyes. The second the moon reflected off the foil between my fingers he sprang into action.

Something happens to a single man in front of a naked woman—he loses all rational thought. Where there had been a hint of hesitation before, the pull of bare skin basking in the light of the moon was too much to resist. He looked like a sailor lost at sea, lending his ear to a siren.

I wasn’t part of mythology, and he wouldn’t get entranced by my spell. I was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who wasn’t captivated by the unfamiliar or afraid of risk.

Even though the experience wasn’t beautiful, I couldn’t say it was tragic. Sadly, we hadn’t bonded over the intimate act on the beach, although somehow, Carp’s warning coming true had sent us both into gales of laughter and left sand in crevices I didn’t know existed. I’d be picking grains out of my skin for weeks to come. I could mark this off my bucket list—sex on the beach was only appealing in Hollywood. The levity of the situation elevated his mood and dropped his guard.

We talked for hours after an epic failure to get rid of the grit on each other’s clothes and scalp. If only he’d been willing to open up before he’d gotten undressed. I could have saved him from making a mistake he’d regret in the morning. And it had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the girl he’d loved—and lost. The guilt he would wear when what he did sank in would cling to him like a wet shirt he couldn’t get off.

We’d both known the encounter would be fleeting, even if for different reasons. He escorted me to the pier, and I’d texted Dottie while we walked. I assumed we’d say goodbye and that would be the end. Yet we exchanged numbers, and I saw her headlights coming down the street.

“Hey, Chelsea?” He stopped me from leaving to meet my ride.

“Yeah?” When I turned back, his features had softened, and whatever wall he’d had up disappeared.

“I have business to deal with in town for a couple days. Maybe we could get coffee or breakfast one day before I leave.” Suddenly shy, he shrugged. “As friends.” His brows rose, and his hand landed in his hair. It looked painful to see him pulling on it with nervous apprehension.

I giggled at the vulnerability of a man who stood head and shoulders above most, had a physique many males would kill for, and who’d exuded confidence from the instant I’d laid eyes on him until this very instant. “I’d like that.”

He had no idea the olive branch he’d offered me. It was unexpected, yet certainly welcome. I looked forward to calling James Carpenter a friend.

***

“How are you holding up, honey?” Dottie handed me a cup of coffee and took a seat next to me on the deck.

Staring out at the horizon, I watched the sky color itself in a rainbow of oranges and pinks. Life in Geneva Key was different than Chicago, not better or worse. “Some days are better than others.” My gaze shifted from the artwork on the horizon to the woman I’d known and loved my entire life. “It scares me to think I’m going to lose her, and that if I don’t remember her, there won’t be anyone around to share with the world how amazing she was.”

Dottie patted my leg just like my mother would have done, and I wondered if she’d picked up the habit watching her over the years, or if she’d always been nurturing. “I think she’ll always be in your heart. And as long as she’s there, her memory will survive. Your mother has touched the lives of more people than you could ever imagine.”

“My entire life, I knew this day would come. She never hid from me what the disease would eventually do to her body and her mind. I just thought I had more time. And the older I got, the younger she seemed, so it didn’t dawn on me that she was losing the fight.”

“Chelsea, you’re young. Mortality shouldn’t be on the mind of a girl your age. Don’t regret living—Janie would never want that.”

Dottie was right, my mother never questioned the things she did when I was growing up. It had always been the two of us, and she made every second count. Had I realized then how she tried to ensure she got joy out of every day, I might have paid closer attention and focused on what mattered. In the end, money wouldn’t save her, neither would the best doctors in the world—and she’d known that since she was diagnosed.

“I miss her. The woman I grew up with. Sometimes I still see glimpses, although they’re getting farther apart. It won’t be long until they disappear completely. I miss the sound of her voice and the way she hugged me. Even the elegance of her handwriting. The little things are the biggest reminders of what all I stand to lose.”

There had been a time in the not so distant past that acknowledging my mother was dying brought an onslaught of tears that would leave me in a blubbering mess. I was well versed in how this all worked from diagnosis to the onset of symptoms and through the stages before death. I’d seen it all my life at charity events, and it was my mother’s life’s passion to raise awareness and find a cure. I’d been to countless funerals, hundreds of events, and studied every bit of information I’d been able to find—I should be prepared.

However, as the Huntingtons progressed, I tried to let go of that emotion to focus on making her comfortable and providing the best finale I could to celebrate her journey. It was important to me to bring a smile to her face for as long as I was able, and even now that I neared the point where my mom would lose what little motor function she had remaining and her memory would fail her completely, I wanted her to have joy as long as possible.

Dottie wasn’t a stranger to the thief who stole the woman I loved. She’d faced that same devil in the losses of countless people she and my mom loved and worked with over the years. And I think those experiences brought the wisdom and patience she’d shown me in the last couple of years. She always seemed to know when to talk, when to listen, and when to just offer support with her presence.

My head rolled toward my mom’s best friend who turned to me. Soulful, blue eyes searched my face, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle offering of love. Dottie was a beautiful woman in her mid-seventies, but she’d been exotic and stunning in her youth. I’d seen pictures of her with her late husband and vaguely remembered her arriving at our house when I was a child looking the way she had in the framed memories that scattered the living room we now shared. Dressed to the nines with her makeup flawlessly done, hair tightly wound into a French twist, and heels I’d never be able to walk in—she was the essence of dignity and grace. And even though her hair had lost the rich, chocolate color of her youth, and her skin wasn’t as taut as it had once been—her beauty still radiated class.

“Do you think she’s in pain?” The mere inability to communicate made my mom’s impending death that much harder. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d told me she loved me because I hadn’t known I’d never hear it again. And because I hadn’t paid attention, I’d missed it, and it was one more memory I wouldn’t have.

“Medically speaking? Or just my personal opinion?”

“Your opinion.”

“I think pain comes at the end of someone’s life when they realize all they regret and have run out of time to make amends, to tell someone how special they are, have a picnic in the park. All the things we never have room for in our lives because we’re so busy are the very things we wish we’d taken the time to do.”

I hadn’t known Pappy all that well, and had only met him a handful of times, but Dottie had changed when she lost her husband. He was wealthy and powerful, the kind of guy who valued his public image—and he’d had a big one to maintain—yet she was the apple of his eye. And I assumed, because I didn’t want to ask, that she missed doing those things with him and had ended up burying a mountain of regret. The stories she told of the places they’d been sounded like a fairy tale—however, as I got older, I realized jet-setting left little time for walks on the beach. And every choice brought a sacrifice.

“Your mother never lived with regret. She made sure to do everything that interested her, she apologized freely, loved passionately, and never held a grudge, and in the end, not taking a single day for granted left her with no remorse, and certainly no guilt. So to answer your question, no—I don’t think Janie is in any pain. And now that you’re settled here, I believe she’s ready to let go.”

My phone vibrated on the table next to me with a text from Carp. I sensed Dottie watching me as I read his message, inviting me to lunch.

“A smile looks good on your lips.”

“Do you know where Galen’s is?” I hoped she didn’t ask a lot of questions. I didn’t have any answers, and nothing other than friendship would ever come of this.

Her brows arched, though she didn’t pry. “It’s just a few blocks from here. I can drop you off.”

I stood and took my untouched coffee cup with me. “No, thanks. I’m going to shower and get dressed. Can you give me directions before I leave?”

She stared up at me from the Adirondack chair she lounged in. “Of course.”

“Thanks, Dottie.” I kissed the top of her soft-gray hair, and then went inside.

***

Carp looked different in the warmth of the mid-day sun than he had at night, and even more so without the stress that had marred his features at his parents’ house. The tension that pinched his brow was gone, and the cargo shorts and Tar Heels shirt suited him better than the slacks and tie.

“Hey.” He met me at the door with a smile.

“Hey, yourself.” I doubted I’d ever even talk to this man again, yet for the next hour, I got to pretend like things were normal and enjoy a meal and conversation. If that meant hiding from the weight of reality, then so be it.

“Have you ever eaten here?” Carp’s enthusiasm was endearing. His attention shifted briefly to the hostess. “Hey, Nina. Two please.”

“No, but it seems you have.”

“They have the best shepherd’s pie in the country, and I think I’ve tried them all. Well, maybe not all but enough to confirm that this is top notch.”

We followed Nina to a booth in the back. The tiny restaurant felt more like a pub, except where the lights are dimmed in a bar, the restaurant bathed in sunshine from the front windows. It was a good thing I didn’t come for the ambiance, because the wooden booths with green pleather upholstery reminded me of leprechauns and seemed kind of cliché.

After sliding in, Carp turned to Nina and asked her to give us a few minutes. The menu consisted of a single page of comfort food no one should eat on a humid summer’s day in Florida. I kept it simple and went with Carp’s selection accompanied by a glass of ice water.

He handed the menus back to Nina before returning his attention to me. “It won’t disappoint.”

“So how long are you in town?” I really hoped we were able to find a groove like we had post sex on the beach. Sitting here staring at each other in uncomfortable silence for sixty-plus minutes didn’t appeal to me.

“Probably leaving Wednesday—although, that depends on what my dad springs on me in his office tomorrow morning.”

“Do you guys work together?” They lived in different states, but with the money in this town, there could be multiple locations in a family business.

“Nah. We don’t really even speak to each other.” He rolled the edge of a paper napkin between his fingers. “I left Geneva Key after high school, went to college and have only been back a handful of times since.”

“Is it that bad here?” There was a hint of laughter at the end of my question. Thus far, I hadn’t encountered anything that would make someone leave the state without looking back.

Carp’s pale-blue eyes peered through his dark lashes before he actually raised his head and stopped fidgeting. “No, probably not. But I grew up here, and while I have great memories with friends, none of those people live here anymore. And visiting my childhood home doesn’t remind me of joyous family Christmases past or playing in my fort in the backyard as a kid.”

“What memories does it bring back?” I couldn’t fathom not loving where I’d grown up, the physical place. That was the single hardest thing about leaving Chicago—my home, the one I’d lived in since the day I was born, would belong to someone else.

“Homework in the afternoons with nannies, meals alone at an enormous dining room table, and running in to show my mom something I’d done at school, only to find she’d left the country with my dad for another business trip.”

“That’s really sad. I can’t imagine. I’d kill to be able to go home.”

“Did you live in Chicago all your life?”

“Yep. Our house wasn’t anything special and certainly nothing like the mansions in Geneva Key, but my mom worked hard to provide for me. She always made sure I had what I needed, and the rest she made up for with attention.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“My mom is in a treatment facility in Tampa. And Dottie—that’s her best friend—convinced us both we needed to be closer so she could help me.”

“It’s a shame so many people fall prey to addictions. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

I sensed the shock that took over my face. “Oh no. Not that type of treatment. She has Huntingtons.”

“Is there a cure?”

I shook my head and inhaled deeply. “She’s lost the ability to speak and swallow, and the tremors are bad. I try to pretend there aren’t signs of dementia and memory loss, but they’re there. And most days, I still see the recognition in her eyes when she looks at me.” I tried to put on a brave face. This disease had been at the forefront of my life because of my mom and her ties to charities and research, although most people didn’t live that way.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t have any idea.”

With the flick of the wrist, I waved him off. “It’s okay. This didn’t sneak up on us. Even after she developed symptoms, it took years to get to this stage.”

“Do you have any other family?” Genuine concerned laced his voice.

“Just Dottie, but she’s not related by blood—just love. I don’t know my dad, and my grandparents passed away when I was in high school. I’m the only child of an only child.” I shrugged. Others saw that as sad, I didn’t know any different.

The waitress saved us from the conversation going deeper. It was a welcomed reprieve—not for me, I could talk about my mom all day, but strangers didn’t know how to handle death being prominent in my life.

One bite of the shepherd’s pie had made me a believer. “Oh my God.” I moaned after swallowing the calorie-laden entrée.

“Right? What’d I tell you? Amazing, huh? There’s nowhere in New York that even comes close—and I’ve looked.”

“How’d you end up in New York?”

“My best friend, Neil, and I bought a wealth management company after college. Cora, the girl I told you about last night, moved with me to attend grad school. Neil’s girlfriend, Hannah, followed us, too. The four of us lived together until Cora went to Paris.”

“How long has she been gone?” I’d learned some of the details from what he’d told me walking on the beach.

“Fourteen months.” The longing in his eyes broke my heart.

“Do you think you two will be able to fix things when she comes home?”

“Guess that depends on whether she actually comes back. She’s career-minded and in a prime position to go far. I’m not sure she’s willing to leave the company she works for. Cora’s boss is pretty influential in the world of engineering.”

“Maybe she’ll surprise you.”

“Anything’s possible, I guess.” He didn’t believe it.

“Do you want it? The relationship, I mean.”

He studied me from across the booth, probably wondering how I could ask such a silly question. Carp had confided in me how much he loved her. He’d even gone so far as to tell me last night shouldn’t have happened. I wasn’t insulted. His remorse had nothing to do with me or the fact we’d gotten busy in the sand. It had to do with his own guilt for not waiting for a woman who hadn’t given him any hope when she’d left, and thinking if he loved her, he should have held out.

“Of course.”

“I don’t know squat about relationships, Carp. I won’t pretend like I do, because I’ve never really had one. Don’t get me wrong…I’ve dated, although nothing ever lasted longer than a year or so. But my mom has known for years she might not make it to my wedding, and that she may never meet a grandchild. And because of that, she lived every day like it was her last. So if you love this girl, if you believe she’s it, then you have to fight for her.”

Carp paid the bill after a bit of a hesitation from me. It wasn’t a date, and I didn’t care for it to feel like one. I liked the guy, yet with the things going on with my mom, I wasn’t in the headspace to bother with any type of commitment.

Standing on the sidewalk outside of Galen’s, I wished Carp luck with Cora and thanked him for lunch. “It was really nice to have someone to hang out with. I love Dottie, but spending time with a woman old enough to be my mom’s mom just isn’t the same.”

“You’re welcome. Look, I’m not sure if I’ll have any more free time while I’m here. But if I do, let’s try to get together before I leave.”

“I’d like that.”

“And, Chelsea? Even if we don’t, you have my number. Don’t hesitate to use it. If you need someone to talk to or just a distraction—I can always lend an ear.”

I nudged his shoulder with mine and tried to hide the goofy grin that had taken over my face. “You, too.”