Page 3

And when you needed coffee and somebody to vent to, you went to Dixie’s and inevitably found one of your friends. Dixie’s Dockside Dinette had been serving Hartwell Cove since 1974, and not much had changed in all that time. The booths were still red vinyl, the tables still had the same fake sparkle embedded laminate, and the bell over the door still gave a little jangle every time someone came in.

The coffee was better than mine, though, which was probably the most important thing. Admittedly, I wasn’t the best at being careful when I measured the coffee grounds, and the reusable filter had seen better days. I probably should get another filter basket and use some paper liners or something, and pay more attention to the instructions on how much to use. I slid into my usual booth, and before I’d even picked up the menu, June was already on her way over with a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other.

She set the cup in front of me, then poured it without asking. “I figured you’d be needing this.”

“Thanks.”

She put the pot down and slid into the booth opposite me, then poured herself a cup. “Lou, I’m taking my fifteen!” she called back to the cook.

“Okay!” he hollered back.

“How’re you holding up?” she asked, looking at me with deep sympathy.

I looked at her. “Is everyone in town already aware?”

She gave me the sort of look that suggested asking whether everyone in Hartwell Cove knew something was perhaps the least useful question I could have asked.

“I doubt my parents’ campground problems are trending yet, so you’ll be very excited to be the first to know my dad got them kicked out of their campground for panning for gold in their water feature.”

She snorted. “Really? And no. I meant Josiah.”

Of course she did.

“And?”

“And what?” I replied, feigning innocence.

She smiled knowingly. “How’re you holding up?”

I took a sip of coffee. “Between my looming book deadline, my parents’ antics, the festival craziness taking hold, and his return, I’m considering changing my name and moving to Canada.”

“That bad?”

“My mother thinks I should date Josiah again.”

June winced. “Ouch.”

“Exactly. She actually said I should just hear him out and that maybe we could go to Harbor Fest together.”

She picked up her own cup, poured herself a coffee, and took a drink. “You know, I always liked him.”

I stared at her. “Please don’t.”

“I didn’t say you should marry him.”

“That’s probably next.”

From the kitchen came a loud clatter, followed by Lou shouting something I couldn’t make out.

June raised her voice. “I’m taking fifteen minutes! I told you already!”

Another shout came back. “You’ll survive, but these orders will get cold!”

June rolled her eyes. “See what I put up with?” Then, louder, she called, “Take them out yourself! I do your cooking when you take yours!”

I smiled despite myself. “You’ve been saying that for as long as I’ve known you.”

“And yet nobody has offered to rescue me or stuck around to help me wait these tables unless they were bad at it and had to be urged to go.” She took another sip of coffee, then glanced toward the kitchen.