Sunday morning had dawned bright, and I’d pretty much refused to stay home and mope around the house. I’d called Betsy first thing and requested an all-day shift. I loved cooking, I loved not having to think about everything that’d transpired, and I needed the space in my own head.

“Order up,” I called and placed another plate of the house lasagna on the kitchen window. I dinged the cute silver bell in the window and smiled as the server—Jennifer—fetched it and gave me a cheeky wink.

She was nineteen, working a summer job in Betsy’s diner, and earning her weight in tips. A total star, and pretty much set on heading out to LA to become the next Southern belle to grace the silver screen.

I didn’t envy her, but I did admire that spirit.

Ah, youth. She’s got a spring in her step.

“Sheesh, girl, it’s not like you’re seventy,” I muttered as I moved on to the next order. But the pressure of the pregnancy reveal and the fact that I didn’t really have any prospects weighed heavily on my shoulders.

I had the house now, which would be a lovely place to raise a child, but the bills? The money to pay for food, for diapers, for everything my baby would need? The moral support? That was still up in the air.

Sure, Peggy had offered me her home, but that wasn’t truly what I wanted. I needed my own life, not to piggyback off hers while I tried figuring out what to do next.

I had to find a way to make this work.

“So much for not thinking about it.”

The kitchen door opened, and Betsy stepped inside. “Are you talking to yourself again?” she asked.

I grinned sheepishly and moved over to the fryer to check how the fries were doing.

“She’s been doing it all morning,” Chandra—the other cook—said and rolled her eyes. “Muttering things to herself under her breath. I’m on the brink of calling in an exorcist.”

“I don’t need an exorcist,” I said. “I need deliverance.”

Chandra popped a hip and patted her kitchen cap, which held her braids in place. “Girl, them’s one and the same thing.”

Betsy and I burst out laughing, and Chandra gave a cheeky wink before returning to her station—she was on pastas and rice tonight and killing it with every plate she sent out. We worked well together, the atmosphere never chaotic but always busy.

“Chan, you think you can handle it in here for fifteen minutes while the crazy over here takes her break?” Betsy asked.

“But I don’t need a break,” I replied.

“Of course you do,” Betsy said. “Wanna know why? Because I said so, hon. Now scoot. Out the back. Take a non-smoke break. I’ll come out in a few to talk to you.”

Oh boy. That could only mean one thing. Betsy wanted to ask me how I was doing. Gosh, I wasn’t sure I had the energy to talk about anything right now. She’d given me so much support yesterday, though, that I wouldn’t be able to say “no.”

I made for the back door, keeping my apron on in case Chandra called for help, then opened up and stepped out into the warm evening air. The sun had just set, and dark and light argued over the last remnants of the day. The lampposts clicked on in the street, as did the light above the back entrance of Betsy’s diner.

The alleyway was kept clean at all times—Betsy took that type of thing seriously, which I admired—and the chain-link fence a few feet away provided a sparse perimeter between the restaurant and the empty park beyond. The chirp of crickets accompanied me.

I stepped down and walked across the short alley then leaned my arms atop the fence and stared out into the darkness at the trees.

These quiet moments were ones I lived for. I inhaled deeply, held the breath, then exhaled again, relishing the serenity. At times like these, everything seemed simple. I had the baby, and the baby would have me, and I’d have work, and things would be OK.

There would be nights like this, precious moments of peace. There would be good times and hard times, and we’d make it through.

I reached down and touched my stomach. “I got you, babe.”

“Talking to yourself?” The sneer of her voice was unmistakable. Tabitha’s heels clicked down the back alley toward me, and I turned to face her. She was in true Barbie doll form, her hair silken and falling around her shoulders in platinum blonde waves, her eyes shimmering by the light from the outdoor wall sconce. “Going mad without Mason?”

“What do you want?” I asked. “I’ve got a job to do, Tabitha, and no time to waste on you.”

“What do I want?” Tabitha asked. “I want you to realize that this isn’t over yet. I’ll never let you get away with what you’ve done.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything.”

Tabitha folded her skinny arms across her ample breasts. “Oh. Nothing, huh? Then how come you were over at Mason’s house on Friday night? You interrupted an important conversation between us, and you had zero shame about it. Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I have to say…” I trailed off, shaking my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “I have to say…that you are a total fucking loon. It’s none of your business what I do or where I go. So, why don’t you cut the crap and tell me the real reason you’re here.”

Tabitha pouted those too-thick lips at me. “You know why I’m here, homewrecker.”

“Right, right, right,” I said and pointed at her. “You’re afraid that I’m going to steal Mason away from you, even though he’s not really yours.”

“You want me to show you how much he’s mine?” Tabitha stepped forward, heels clacking as she did. “He got me pregnant while he was seeing you. What does that tell you? Clearly, you couldn’t satisfy his every need. I mean, I can’t even understand why he’s bothered with you. Probably because I rejected him. He was in a dry spell.” She pointed at me, the tip of her fingernail connecting with my uniform blouse. “But that’s over now. I’m back, and you will stay away from him, or you’ll both regret it.”

“Are you kidding?” I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tabitha, I honestly don’t care anymore. I don’t care about you or anything you have to say, and if Mason did get you pregnant, which I highly doubt, by the way, then I…wouldn’t care about that either. It doesn’t change anything.” Except the fact that Mason would have two kids to contend with and I would be so brokenhearted my world would collapse. And I’d have to piece it all together again.

But hey, at least I’d already had some experience with that.

Tabitha stared at me as if she couldn’t quite understand that I didn’t care. Couldn’t fathom that I wouldn’t want to compete with her on some weird psycho level.

Finally, she took a single step back and crossed her arms again. “Well, that’s good,” she said, wiggling her head in what she likely assumed was a bad girl attitude. It looked put-on. “You just keep it that way and stay away from my man.”

The back door of the restaurant swung open and Betsy tottered down the steps. She stopped at the sight of Tabitha out back. “Hmm, it seems I’ve opened a door into another, bitchier, universe,” Betsy said from the top step.

The blonde shot her a look equal parts disdain and trepidation. Was Tabitha afraid of Betsy?

“Didn’t I tell you you’re not allowed in my restaurant?” Betsy asked.

“I’m not in your restaurant,” Tabitha countered. “I’m outside.”

“Well, you’re right about that. Seems like I wasn’t clear enough with you, little miss. You’re not to set foot in my restaurant or on my property. I have the right to reserve admission to anyone I choose, and if you break my rules, I’ll have you removed from my property.”

“You and whose army?” Tabitha challenged, teetering on those heels.

Chandra appeared in the doorway behind Betsy, and the blonde paled, cleared her throat. “Fine,” she sniffed. “I’ve already done what I came here to do. I’m not going to waste any more time on you or any of your loser friends.” Tabitha tossed her head, then clacked off down the alley and away from me, at last.

I exhaled and leaned back against the chain-link fence, shaking my head. “She just won’t quit.”

“She never knew how to quit,” Betsy replied. “It’s one of her many terrible qualities.”

Chandra grinned behind Betsy, watching the diva strut out of sight. “I’d be happy to teach her sometime. How to quit, if y’all know what I mean.”

Betsy turned around and placed a hand on her chef’s forearm. “Thank you, darlin’, but that won’t be necessary. Mind giving me a few moments alone with our girl here?”

“Suit yourself,” Chandra said then disappeared back into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her.

Shoot. Here we go. I have to talk about it now.

Betsy trotted down the back steps and joined me at the fence. Together, we turned and looked out over the park, lit now by the lights along the path that wound between the trees and around a small water fountain.

Idyllic, even with mosquitoes to contend with.

Betsy waved a hand in front of her face lazily, and the quiet between us stretched out further.

“I’m fine,” I said. “We don’t need to talk about Mason or anything.”

“Oh, honey, no. I wasn’t going to talk to you about Mason,” Betsy said. “What goes on between you two is your own personal business. I wanted to know if you’re comfortable. If you need any time off. If any of the smells from the kitchen bother you?”

“No, nothing like that. I get nauseous at night, usually when I get home, but nothing so far today,” I said, tracing the top of the fence post with my fingernail. “I guess the physical stuff is there, but I’m not as worried about it.”

“I see,” Betsy said. “Now, dear, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you should be focused on the symptoms instead of all the other Mason-related stuff. After all, the pregnancy isn’t going to go away anytime soon. It might be time for you to go see a doctor.”

I cringed. The only doctors I knew in this town were Crown, Mason, and that creep Perry. I didn’t see myself visiting any of them anytime soon. Especially not for this.

“Oh my, you’ve gone pale. You know, I’m not talking about the doctors in Stoneport, hon. Mary has a lovely ob-gyn down in New Orleans. I can get the number for you, and you can make an appointment. You’ll need prenatal meds soon, and you can get a sonogram done. Check that everything’s going as it should be. Healthy and all that. Does that sound good to you?”

I exhaled. Getting an appointment had been on my mind, but I’d been a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of going and making this real.

“That sounds… That sounds perfect, Betsy. Thank you so much.”

“We ladies have got to stick together,” she said and gave me a quick hug. “Now, get your butt back in the kitchen. I’ve got a table of ten hankering for your shrimp special, and I know Chandra can’t cook it as well as you can. God, don’t ever tell Chandra I said that.”

I laughed, the humor flooding me with warmth. “Your secret’s safe with me,” I said and zipped the lip.

So, that was the next step. The ob-gyn. And it was in New Orleans, which meant I wouldn’t have to be alone. In fact, Peggy would probably be mad at me for going without her.

Regardless, things had lined up. I was on a course toward a specific destination, and I had no idea if Mason would ever meet me there.