Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
The ancient cemetery adjacent to St. Finbarr’s Catholic church gave us plenty of inspiration too. It was built in the mid-1800s and was deemed too small a hundred years later. A new church had been built on Adams Street, and the old one was abandoned…which made it a perfect place to drink contraband beer and hang out. As we got older, we’d invite girls we liked to join the party. Shockingly, only a couple took us up on the offer. Too spooky.
But Nolan and I had stood under that arch alone and— No, don’t go there.
I eyed the church again before continuing my tour through town—the dentist’s office on Madison, the picnic table in the park next to the playground equipment we’d all broken or gashed some body part on.
I jogged past my friends’ houses, noting the old cracked sidewalks and elegant weeping willow trees. We’d swung on those branches, tripped over the uneven cement, and rode bicycles like demons through streets our ancestors had named after dead presidents and trees…some that would never survive a Vermont winter. Like Palm Street and Jacaranda Lane.
The thump of my sneakers on the pavement echoed along the empty streets when I reached Main and crossed the sidewalk in front of a new coffee shop I hadn’t noticed my first day here. Rise and Grind. Huh.
I hadn’t noticed the vegan bistro on the corner or the florist next to Henderson’s either. I’d been so focused on the familiar that I’d failed to notice what had changed. Ronnie had mentioned a renaissance of sorts in town and I could see it now. There was a hint of something new mixed in with the old. Kind of interesting.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow as I turned left, and slowed to a stop in front of the Elmwood Diner.
Holy shit. The place looked…amazing.
The exterior was the same yet different. The log siding was cleaner than ever and the landscaping had been updated with ornamental rocks, maple saplings, and some delicate purple flowers.
The windows were bigger too, and they weren’t covered with squiggly handwritten promises and deals, like “Best Burger Ever!” or “Buy One Get One Free Pancakes and Eggs!” It looked as though the parking lot had been repaved recently too. I doubted the local teenage crowd gathered here to kick it with a twelve-pack of Bud Light after dark.
The brush had been cleared in the area near the woods to make room for a wide firepit with Adirondack chairs adjacent to a three-tiered deck strung with fairy lights. Christ, this was a sophisticated restaurant, not a diner. I wondered if they still had the best omelets in town.
Great. Now I was hungry. I made a mental note to come back later as I pulled out my cell and scrolled through my playlist. I adjusted my earbuds…just as a familiar truck turned into the lot.
Well, what do you know?
4
NOLAN
“Mornin’.”
I snapped my head sideways with a start at the sight of the sweaty, sexy man grinning as he pulled his earbuds out. “Oh. What are you doing here?”
“Running.” Vinnie gestured to his shoes, then at the diner. “I almost forgot where I was. That’s not the greasy spoon I remember.”
I faltered for a moment, disarmed by the blatant awe in his tone. I tipped my baseball cap to meet his eyes, willing my heartbeat to settle into a normal rhythm.
“Uh, right. We did a huge remodel a few years ago, hired a chef, and expanded the menu. It’s been a big hit,” I reported, sounding vaguely like a marketing ad.
“What’s the coffee like?”
“Amazing.” I moved toward the entrance, keys in hand and a computer bag slung over my left shoulder.
“Cool. I could use a cup of joe.”
“Sorry. We’re not open,” I replied, unlocking the front door. “Try Rise and Grind.”
“Come on, Nol. I’ll pay triple for it. I need my java and…I want to talk to you.”
“About?”
“Ronnie’s proposal.”
I fixed him with a suspicious once-over before reluctantly inclining my head. “Fine. Come in. Take a seat at the counter.”
I dropped my computer in my office just off the kitchen and turned on the lights. Seconds later, the row of pendants over the counter lit up, framing Vinnie in a flattering aura as he studied his surroundings. I followed his gaze, knowing it had to look very different to him than he would have remembered.
The interior was an elegantly updated version of the family-friendly diner of our youth. The overall layout was the same, but the smoke-stained ceiling tiles had been replaced by open beams that made the small diner seem twice its actual size. The cigarette and candy vending machines were gone, and so was the reception desk with its glass-enclosed case filled with cheap toys for under a dollar and the old-timey cash register circa 1952. In its place was a small podium with a chalkboard panel.