Chapter 40
Six Months Later
Some people measured healing in days.
Others in months.
For Mia, it seemed to come one small step at a time.
We sat across from each other in a booth at the Boathouse Diner, sunlight streaming through the windows while Billy Bob entertained a nearby table with a story that involved a storm, a fishing boat, and a fish so large it sounded too good to be true.
Mia looked much better than she did months before.
Not perfect.
Not all the way healed.
But better.
The sadness was still there, and I suspected it always would be, to a degree. But there was something else too—hope.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
She smiled. “Most days are okay now.”
“Most?”
“Sometimes I want to pick up the phone and call Wren. Then I remember I can’t.”
“I’d like to believe that even though we’re unable to see the people we’ve lost, we can still talk to them, and that somehow they hear us.”
“I do talk to her from time to time, and it helps. Renee’s been supportive too. We talk all the time now. And you’ll be thrilled to know that she’s living in our grandfather’s house. I still own it, but we’ve worked out an arrangement that works for both of us.”
“I’m glad.”
She grabbed the glass of water in front of her and took a sip. “There are a couple other things worth mentioning. I met up with Jeremy, but only once.”
I sighed. “How did it go?”
“This time I saw everything I didn’t the first time. The lies. The manipulation. The excuses. I don’t know how I missed it before.”
“You wanted to believe he was the man he pretended to be.”
“I suppose I did. Anyway, he’s no longer in my life. That chapter is closed.”
“Good. What’s the other thing you wanted to mention?”
She glanced outside, and then back at me, a smile brightening her face. “Several months ago, Adrian showed up on my doorstep. He wanted to apologize. He acknowledged he hadn’t been the best neighbor, and I admitted I shared some of the blame.”
“That was nice of him. Have you spoken to him since then?”
“I’d say so. We’re dating.”
“You’re kidding. The man whose dog turned your lawn into a minefield is now your boyfriend?”
“He is, and so far, it’s going great. You were right. We’re a lot more alike than I realized.”
I lifted my water glass. “Here’s to second chances.”
Mia clinked hers against mine. “To second chances.”
As Billy Bob’s laughter echoed from the next room, Mia stood.
“Speaking of Adrian, we’re off to the movies in about an hour. I should go.”
We paid our tab and stepped outside, and as she walked to her car, I turned toward her. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If there are any more dog incidents on your front lawn, maybe it’s best to keep the threatening notes to yourself.”
“Will do.”
I got into my car and pulled away from the curb. As Mia grew smaller in the rearview mirror, I found myself thinking about how strange life could be.
One woman had lost a sister.
Another had lost a husband.
And in the end, a giant Saint Bernard had found his way home.
Sometimes justice didn’t repair everything.
But every now and then it managed to put one small piece back where it belonged.
And for today, that felt like enough.
THE END