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“Car accident. He was dead at the scene.”

“Goodness. You knew him well, I assume.”

“He was my best friend. The three of us went through high school together. Played football. Not Wilda. She didn’t play football.”

“Cheerleader?”

“No. Art.”

“An art nerd?”

“A creative, free spirit.”

Rachel leaned back in her chair. “That makes me sad.”

“Why?”

“I hope she finds that again. She seems a little reserved to me.”

“She’s beginning to find herself again. Working on the house has brought some of that back.”

“Good. She seemed to have a good time last night.”

“She did.”

“It’s hard enough coming back from breaking up with someone you really care about. But losing them. That’s…tragic.”

“Did you really care about Milo when you were…together?”

“I still really care about Milo. But some things aren’t meant to be.” She picked up her fork again. “He’s found his person now, though.”

“How about you? Are you looking for your person?”

She laughed. “Not obsessively. If I run into him on the street…or in the grocery store, then hopefully I won’t screw it up.”

Mathias finished his cinnamon roll and took another sip of coffee. “I should get back to the house. They’re probably beginning to stir.”

“Thank you for the conversation.”

“Thank you for sharing your cinnamon roll.”

“Maybe the next time you’re in town, I’ll run into you in the grocery store again.”

“It’s highly possible.”

With the planned breakfast time drawing near, Milo diced the red and green peppers, then pushed them next to the onions on the edge of the cutting board. As he began cracking eggs into a bowl, Mathias came through the back door.

“Good morning.”

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Milo picked up a whisk and started mixing the eggs.

“Good. Got up early, though. Hard to break that habit.”

“I saw your truck was gone.”

“I went into town and ran into a friend of yours.”

“Who might that be?”