today.”
“When are you going on your new fall hours?” Grace appeared relieved to have the conversation moving in a different direction.
“As of next week, we’ll be closing at seven, except for Friday and Saturday nights,” Stef said. “With the kids back to school and the evenings getting cooler, there’s no point in staying open later than that.”
She gathered the shredded napkin and her mug.
“I’ll see you all later.” She started to walk away from the table.
“Stef, by the way, was that you I saw coming out of Enright’s office today?” Barbara asked.
“The firm handled Horace’s will. There were some papers I had to sign for the house.” Stef smiled. These ladies didn’t miss a trick. Between Nita, Barbara, and Grace, they pretty much had the whole town covered.
“That Enright boy can write my will any day.” Barbara wiggled her eyebrows.
“He is a dear young man, isn’t he?” Grace smiled. “I was glad to see one of the younger Enrights step in to keep the family practice going.”
“Now, which of Mike’s brothers is Jesse’s father?” Nita asked.
“The oldest one. Craig. He used to be married to Delia Enright, the mystery writer,” Grace told them.“She and Craig divorced years ago, and he married Lainie, his current wife, Jesse’s mother.”
“I saw Jesse in the market the other day,” Nita said. “He was picking up one of the flyers for Natalie’s Run.”
“He said he was going to run,” Stef replied.
“I think it’s so nice that the town gets behind that charity run every year,” Grace said. “What a nice way to honor your late sister, Steffie.”
“We are grateful to everyone who participates,” Stef told her. “I hope I’ll see you all there next Saturday.”
Everyone at the table nodded.
“Great. Thank you. I appreciate it.” Stef grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. “And this time, I’m really leaving.”
She tossed the remains of the napkin into the trash and left her mug on the counter for Carlo. Walking back to Scoop, she thought about the good people of St. Dennis who were willing to donate their time and their money to run—or walk—to raise funds for childhood leukemia, the disease that had taken her sister, Natalie. Only eighteen months old—roughly Austin’s age—when Natalie died, Stef had no memories of her sister, who’d been four when she passed away. There were photographs, but few of Stef and Natalie together. Natalie had been diagnosed when Stef was only five months old. Of the four Wyler siblings, Natalie had been the closest to Stef in age, and even though she’d never known her, Stef had always felt a connection to her. She wished Natalie had lived long enough for Stef to have some personal recollectionof her, some memory that had been hers and hers alone.
She couldn’t help but feel sick about Wade’s wife. Had the woman been dying when she and Wade had been dancing the night away?
Uh-uh. Wade would never have left a dying wife.
But when was she his wife? And what if he hadn’t known she was dying?
She shook her head almost imperceptibly as she walked along. Grace said the woman had been ill. He wouldn’t have left her if he’d known she was on her deathbed, even for Beck’s wedding. Which led to the question of whether or not he was married at Beck’s wedding. But wouldn’t Berry have referred to the woman as his ex-wife if he hadn’t been?
Too many questions, far too few answers.
It must be so very difficult for Wade, Stef thought, to have had to bury someone he loved. And surely, he had loved her, if he’d married her, right?
And yet there was this …
something
between the two of them, some sort of fission that activated whenever she and Wade got within fifty feet of each other. She’d felt it last night at the house, and she was pretty damned sure that he’d felt it, too. Did that sound like a man who was mourning the loss of his true love?
And didn’t it just suck for poor
“When are you going on your new fall hours?” Grace appeared relieved to have the conversation moving in a different direction.
“As of next week, we’ll be closing at seven, except for Friday and Saturday nights,” Stef said. “With the kids back to school and the evenings getting cooler, there’s no point in staying open later than that.”
She gathered the shredded napkin and her mug.
“I’ll see you all later.” She started to walk away from the table.
“Stef, by the way, was that you I saw coming out of Enright’s office today?” Barbara asked.
“The firm handled Horace’s will. There were some papers I had to sign for the house.” Stef smiled. These ladies didn’t miss a trick. Between Nita, Barbara, and Grace, they pretty much had the whole town covered.
“That Enright boy can write my will any day.” Barbara wiggled her eyebrows.
“He is a dear young man, isn’t he?” Grace smiled. “I was glad to see one of the younger Enrights step in to keep the family practice going.”
“Now, which of Mike’s brothers is Jesse’s father?” Nita asked.
“The oldest one. Craig. He used to be married to Delia Enright, the mystery writer,” Grace told them.“She and Craig divorced years ago, and he married Lainie, his current wife, Jesse’s mother.”
“I saw Jesse in the market the other day,” Nita said. “He was picking up one of the flyers for Natalie’s Run.”
“He said he was going to run,” Stef replied.
“I think it’s so nice that the town gets behind that charity run every year,” Grace said. “What a nice way to honor your late sister, Steffie.”
“We are grateful to everyone who participates,” Stef told her. “I hope I’ll see you all there next Saturday.”
Everyone at the table nodded.
“Great. Thank you. I appreciate it.” Stef grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. “And this time, I’m really leaving.”
She tossed the remains of the napkin into the trash and left her mug on the counter for Carlo. Walking back to Scoop, she thought about the good people of St. Dennis who were willing to donate their time and their money to run—or walk—to raise funds for childhood leukemia, the disease that had taken her sister, Natalie. Only eighteen months old—roughly Austin’s age—when Natalie died, Stef had no memories of her sister, who’d been four when she passed away. There were photographs, but few of Stef and Natalie together. Natalie had been diagnosed when Stef was only five months old. Of the four Wyler siblings, Natalie had been the closest to Stef in age, and even though she’d never known her, Stef had always felt a connection to her. She wished Natalie had lived long enough for Stef to have some personal recollectionof her, some memory that had been hers and hers alone.
She couldn’t help but feel sick about Wade’s wife. Had the woman been dying when she and Wade had been dancing the night away?
Uh-uh. Wade would never have left a dying wife.
But when was she his wife? And what if he hadn’t known she was dying?
She shook her head almost imperceptibly as she walked along. Grace said the woman had been ill. He wouldn’t have left her if he’d known she was on her deathbed, even for Beck’s wedding. Which led to the question of whether or not he was married at Beck’s wedding. But wouldn’t Berry have referred to the woman as his ex-wife if he hadn’t been?
Too many questions, far too few answers.
It must be so very difficult for Wade, Stef thought, to have had to bury someone he loved. And surely, he had loved her, if he’d married her, right?
And yet there was this …
something
between the two of them, some sort of fission that activated whenever she and Wade got within fifty feet of each other. She’d felt it last night at the house, and she was pretty damned sure that he’d felt it, too. Did that sound like a man who was mourning the loss of his true love?
And didn’t it just suck for poor
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