they could channel even half of her optimism. With Bella, the glass was always half full. Never half empty. She saw the good in everything and everyone and she never judged.
Tolerant with a capital T.
She’d certainly been tolerant of Chrissy’s missteps over the years, including her unplanned pregnancy. Bella had been Chrissy’s fiercest champion in her darkest times and that was just one of the reasons Chrissy decided to ignore her cousin’s wishes when it came to reaching out to Ryan McClure. Besides, even though Bella had no doubt intended to warn off of all the Inseparables, she’d directed that “absolutely not” at Georgie. Chrissy had hotfooted it through thatloophole. Unfortunately, her Internet research regarding Joe Savage had bombed. She’d gotten hundreds of hits on numerous men with the same name, and she didn’t know enough about Bella’s Savage to narrow the search. Instead of spinning her wheels, she’d tracked down Ryan, asking if he’d be available for a chat around four-forty-five.
He was.
So she’d called her mom and asked if she’d watch Melody for an extra hour while Chrissy ran an errand.
She would.
Four-thirty finally came and—after a short discussion with Mrs. Fiedler who popped out of the Yarn Barn to ask advice on a knitting project—Chrissy jumped into her car and hit the gas. Ryan— Sheriff McClur e—had agreed to meet her at the old diner on Highway 20. A few minutes down the road, her phone pinged with a text. Although it originated from her mom’s phone, the note was from Melody.
Love u mama
Chrissy’s heart pounded and swelled and pounded some more. Not just because of the message itself—although that was glorious—but because she’d only just started teaching Melody how to text as a new and additional form of communication.
Chrissy pulled over. She’d sworn off texting while driving and no way was she not going to recognize her daughter’s achievement and innate sweetness pronto.
Love you too baby. Be home soon .
Chrissy imagined her four-year-old daughter carefully breaking down each word, working the letters in her mind and piecing together the meaning. It helped that Melody was super smart, but they’d both worked hard on her reading and writing skills. A few seconds later, Chrissy was rewarded with a smiley face followed by a winky face.
Chrissy responded in kind then rubbed away an ache in her chest before pulling back onto the road. Ten minutes later, she turned into the diner’s gravel lot, parked alongside the sheriff’s truck, then zipped inside.
The diner was relatively empty, not that it was ever jammed. But somehow enough people stopped by for coffee or a quick bite while traveling from here to there. Enough people to keep Sunset Diner in business. Chrissy spotted two waitresses, both acquaintances, both wearing wilted blue uniforms, a short order cook, three random customers, and Ryan—who was also in uniform, although his brown and tan ensemble looked freshly pressed.
The county sheriff was already seated in a booth and drinking coffee. Like Georgie, the man was addicted to high octane java. Difference was, Georgie was always wired and Ryan was always laid back. The strong, silent type. Closing in on forty and not-so-happily married. His wife, Lacey, was a flaky, loose cannon. They’d separated twice and reunited twice. Now, according to Georgie, they were separating again. Anyone who cared about Ryan—which was most anyone who knew him—wished he’d end things with Lacey once and for all. But they had a kid together and Ryan was the kind of guy who’d do anything to ensure his daughter’s welfare and happiness. Which made him a superhero in Chrissy’s eyes. Unfortunately, his daughter Sienna didn’t get that her mom was a self-involved, faithless birdbrain and fell into a depression every time Lacey split. Otherwise Chrissy was pretty sure Ryan would have filed for divorce long ago.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said,
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