Chapter One

Eleven months later

Was there any problem in life that couldn’t be made at least a teensy bit better with Mexican food and a margarita? Keegan Duffy didn’t think so. And the way her muscles relaxed and her step grew light as she opened the door to Mama Maria’s and found herself bathed in the warmth and aromas of melted cheese, simmering mole, and spicy meat only proved her theory.

Before the hostess could approach her, she caught a wave from across the restaurant. Sammi.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely sight for my sore eyes?” Sammi stood as Keegan approached, then held out her arms for a firm hug. Sammi was an excellent hugger. Keegan had always thought so. None of that quick touch of shoulders and pat-pat on the back. No way. Sammi hugged you. She wrapped you up tight and squeezed. Held on. Made you feel like you mattered, like hugging you properly was important to her.

“Why are your eyes sore?” Keegan asked with a grin as she sat across from Sammi at the round table for two. “Are people forgetting to floss again?”

“People always forget to floss.”

“Those are the ones that keep you in business.”

The waitress arrived with two margaritas before Keegan had ordered. She glanced at Sammi. “Bless you.”

“Didn’t want you to have to wait.”

The waitress said she’d give them a few minutes and headed off to another table.

Sammi lifted her glass. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”

Keegan touched her glass to Sammi’s. “Right back atcha.”

Half an hour later, they were enjoying delicious meals and a second margarita each, laughing like they always did together.

“You know,” Sammi said, her deep, rich dark eyes dancing in the dim restaurant lighting. “I love that we can go for weeks—or even, I think it’s been months this time—and not miss a beat. We pick right back up.” Her cheeks held a slight flush when she was happy, something Keegan had always found endearing.

“Same.” She sipped. “I mean, we do text, thank God.”

“Yeah, true, but I’ve gotten really bad at texting back. And besides, it’s not the same as actually seeing your face.” The flush deepened. “When was the last time we got together?” Sammi scrunched up her face, clearly racking her brain. “I can’t remember.”

“I think…end of summer?” Keegan feigned uncertainty, but she knew exactly when they’d last met. July thirteenth. She knew because she’d gone on her first date with Jules on the fourteenth. But Sammi didn’t know that. Yet.

“Too long,” Sammi said. “Too long, I say.” She dunked a chip into the queso, took a bite, then asked, “So? What’s new? How are the kids? Stir-crazy in anticipation of Halloween?”

“Oh my God, they’re absurd. Totally absurd.” Teaching kindergarten had been her dream job since she was fourteen years old. She was now in her tenth year of teaching and her fifth year of teaching kindergarten, and every day, she wondered how it was that she’d gotten so lucky. “If somebody’s little head just exploded tomorrow during story time, I wouldn’t be even a tiny bit surprised.” She took a bite of enchilada, then pointed her fork at Sammi. “And how is your mom? Your grandma? Are they still spying on your every move?”

“Always.” Sammi’s laugh was pretty. Musical, like tinkling wind chimes. The sound somehow seemed unexpected coming from Sammi. Keegan had always equated her dark hair and eyes and the tanned tone of her skin to a woman of reserve and mystery, but that delicate laugh somehow contradicted the vision. “I mean, what did I expect when I bought a house across the street from them, right?”

“You also have a normal mom and a normal grandma. I could never live that close to my mother. I’d have to kill myself. Or her. It would depend on the day.”

“Well, they’re great. Grandma is the busiest retired person I’ve ever met. Between her three book clubs, her knitting circle, the Italian cooking class she’s taking, her wine tastings, and the dog walking group, I don’t know when she has time to sleep.”

“If I could have half—no, I won’t even be greedy, I’ll take a quarter. If I could have a quarter of the energy your grandma has, I’d be unstoppable.”

“She is something.” Sammi’s face beamed with pride. Keegan knew how close the two of them were, and she found herself envious, having lost her own grandmother last year. Sammi set her fork down and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. Then she propped her chin in her hand and her elbow on the table. “What else is new? Anything?”

“Actually, yes.” Keegan set her own fork down and picked up her drink, suddenly a little nervous. She took a sip, then spoke. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sammi seemed to freeze for a second or two. Her expression locked. She blinked a couple times, and then her face shifted into a smile. A forced one, it seemed, but a smile. “Oh?”

Keegan nodded.

“For how long? How’d you meet?” Sammi picked her fork back up and poked at her rice and beans, as if that singular focus she’d had on Keegan a few minutes ago had been shoved to the side.

“Online. Isn’t that where everybody meets these days?” A laugh, and it was overly loud, and oh God, she sounded so stupid. “A couple months.” Three and a half, actually, but she didn’t say that.

“Great. That’s awesome.” Sammi took a bite, then seemed like she wished she hadn’t. “What does she do?”

“She works for a remodeling company. She’s a salesperson. Tile and flooring and new kitchens and stuff.”

“Great. That’s awesome.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you dating? Looking to date?” Keegan worked hard to right the conversation that had somehow gotten derailed.

Sammi lifted one shoulder. “I don’t have a ton of time. One of these days, maybe.” Again, she smiled. Again, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Okay, it was clearly time for a subject change. Keegan had known it was going to be weird to talk to Sammi about dating somebody—for both of them—but they needed to get past that horrible night. They couldn’t live in its shadow forever. “Done any volunteering at Junebug Farms lately? Barktoberfest is coming up.”

At the mention of the no-kill animal shelter that was near and dear to both their hearts, Sammi seemed to relax a bit. The clouds in her dark eyes cleared somewhat, and this smile, though soft and slight, was the real deal. “Not in a while, but I’m definitely planning to go to that. You?”

“Oh, absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it.” She finished her margarita. “The chances of us seeing each other again soon are looking pretty good. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The smile grew. Thank God. Keegan didn’t like seeing Sammi uncertain or sad or in any kind of state that wasn’t happiness. They steered the conversation into much safer waters as they split an order of flan. By the time they finished the last bite, they were laughing again, something that had always come easy to the two of them.

They fought over the bill, but Sammi won, as she so often did, using her standard teachers get paid squat argument that Keegan couldn’t really stand up against, because duh. It was the truth. Once outside, they hovered on the sidewalk. Keegan had walked, her apartment literally three blocks away.

“You okay to drive?” she asked Sammi as she walked her to her car.

“Promise.” They hugged, and this time Sammi’s hug was slightly less than her usual vigorous hug but was still more solid than almost anybody else’s, and Keegan held on tight.

“Text me when you get home,” she said, pointing at Sammi.

Sammi pointed back. “Yes, ma’am.”

Keegan stood to the side as Sammi started her car, backed out, and gave her a wave before driving away. For reasons she didn’t want to dwell on, a bit of a gray cloud seemed to drift up overhead and hang out there, a melancholy that settled over her.

She inhaled a deep lungful of the October night air, crisp and cool. Not cold yet, but definitely not warm. The scent of fall was in that inhale—crushed leaves and damp earth and apples—and she held it in for an extra couple of seconds, just to absorb the impending season.

Long after Sammi’s taillights had disappeared, Keegan stared after them. That had gone about how she thought it would go, but she still felt an ache somewhere deep in her soul. She blew out a breath in resignation, and finally, she turned and began her short stroll home.

* * *

Sammi’s grandmother was eighty years old, but you’d never know it if you followed her around for a day. She was more active than most middle-aged people Sammi knew, and her social calendar was stuffed full of events and clubs and meetings. That’s why it didn’t faze Sammi at all when she headed outside on Thursday morning to go to work and saw her grandma across the street, raking leaves in her front lawn.

It was barely seven thirty.

She scooted across the cul-de-sac. “Hey, Grams. Leaves couldn’t wait until actual daylight?” she teased.

Her grandmother grinned as she shot a quick glance at the sky, which was certainly light. “Funny.” She tilted her head so Sammi could kiss her cheek. “Just felt like getting in some movement this morning. It’s so glorious out.” She stood with both hands clasped on the rake handle, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply through her nose. “Smell that?”

Sammi could. “Smells like fall. Your favorite.” She reached for the rake. “Can I help? I have a little time.”

Her grandmother playfully slapped her hands away as Sammi laughed. “Not in your work clothes. No, I got this.” She tapped a finger against her chest. “Good for my heart.”

“Heading to Junebug Farms today?” It was Thursday, after all, and that was one of her dog-walking days.

“Yup. Gotta get ready for Barktoberfest. You’re coming, right?”

A nod. “Absolutely.”

“Oh! I forgot about your dinner last night. How did it go? How’s Keegan?” Her grandmother had always had a soft spot for Keegan. From the moment they’d first met—at Junebug Farms, coincidentally, at one of their events—she’d been trying to play matchmaker. Didn’t matter how many times Sammi asked her to stop, her grandmother was certain she knew best and that Sammi and Keegan made a fabulous couple. “You two are M-F-E-O, as my goddess of all television, Shonda Rhimes, would say,” she’d told Sammi more than once.

I mean, she’s not wrong, except…

“She’s good. Really good. Seeing somebody now, I guess.” Did that come off light and casual? ’Cause that’s what she was trying for.

“Oh.” Her grandmother was clearly disappointed by this news, and Sammi wasn’t surprised. “Oh, I see.” She looked like she wanted to say more, and Sammi was relieved when the front door opened and her mother appeared.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself in her light joggers and long-sleeve T-shirt.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Chilly.”

“Grandma doesn’t think so.”

“That’s because she’s going senile and doesn’t know any better.” Her mother shot a quick grin at her grandmother. This was their relationship. They teased mercilessly. They loved unconditionally. Sammi’s mother had moved in after Sammi’s father had passed away to help her grandma with the grief of losing her son. Turned out, her mom needed just as much help with the grief of losing her husband, and she ended up never leaving. Then Sammi bought the house across the cul-de-sac. They all looked out for each other, and Sammi wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Don’t think I won’t cut you right out of my will,” her grandmother said now in feigned seriousness. “I’ll leave everything to my granddaughter here and skip right over your skinny ass.”

“All I hear is blah, blah, blah,” Sammi’s mother said, opening and closing her hand like a puppet, as Sammi shook her head and laughed softly. These women. They were her rocks. They drove her a little batty at times, but she loved them fiercely.

“I gotta get to work,” she said and bent to kiss her mom on the cheek. She pointed at her grandma. “Don’t you overdo it, understand?”

Her grandmother turned to her mother and lowered her voice. “She’s really gotten bossy in her old age.”

“I know, right?” her mother said.

“You two are hilarious,” Sammi tossed over her shoulder as she headed back across the circle. “Bye.”

Half an hour later, she was seated at her desk in her office. Her schedule was pretty full today, which was good. Made the day go by faster.

She’d worked hard on her practice. When she’d finished her degree, her first job had been at a dental clinic with six other dentists. And it was fine. There were a couple of older dentists who’d been good about teaching, and she’d learned a lot. But she didn’t love the extra rules or the answering to other people, and she didn’t love being the lowest rung on the ladder. After two years at the clinic, she made a decision. She stayed for another eighteen months, learned as much as she possibly could stuff into her brain, and she saved every last cent she had. And then finally, two years ago at the ripe old age of thirty-two, she’d opened her own practice.

It had been hard. Exhausting. There had been times where she’d wondered why the hell she ever thought answering to somebody else wasn’t worse than making nine million decisions all on her own, seemingly every single day. But she’d slogged through. She’d advertised. She’d done free clinics for the underserved and uninsured. Anything to get her name out there. She worked her damn ass off for the past two years, and it was finally paying off.

She sat back in her chair now—her comfy, ergonomically correct chair that she’d splurged and spent nearly a thousand dollars on because she knew how much time she’d spend sitting in it—and took in her office. She did that every now and then. It was a deep slate blue color with ivory trim. Very classy. Elegant. The floor was a laminate that looked like hardwood, but she’d added a large, round area rug to warm it up. Her desk was cherry, rich and deep. Her diplomas hung on the wall—copies were hanging in a couple of the patient rooms—as did a few paintings she’d been drawn to. Nothing fancy, just some framed prints from Michael’s, but they brought some life to the room. One was a nighttime cityscape of Manhattan. The other was a painting of a café in the summer, three small tables lined up on a sidewalk, customers eating desserts and sipping wine.

Across the room on the other wall, though, was her favorite. A gift from her grandmother, it was her late grandfather’s framed print of Dogs Playing Poker. The day she opened her practice, her grandma had come by with it.

“Your grandpa had this hanging in his office at the insurance company for almost forty years, and he used to tell me how it made him smile on even the worst days.” She’d held it out to Sammi. “I know he’d want you to have it.”

She hadn’t been wrong—even now, Sammi sat at her desk and grinned at the antics of the card-playing canines. Funny how something so silly could make her happy in the moment.

A tiny chime from her phone told her a text had come through, and she sat up to grab it from her desk. It was Keegan, and Sammi smiled automatically.

Thanks for dinner and an amazing time last night…next time, I buy!

A knock on her doorframe yanked her attention from the phone. Michelle, one of her hygienists. “Dr. Sammi? We’re ready for you in exam one.”

With a nod, she set the phone back down. She’d have to answer later.

Her first patient was Carter Jackson, a five-year-old whose family was new to the area.

“Hey, Carter,” she said as she entered the room. “I’m Dr. Sammi. Michelle said you did great today, that you were super brave and not scared at all.”

He shook his head. His mother sat in a chair in the corner, smiling with clear pride, and gave her a nod.

Sammi pointed at his Avengers shirt. “Which one’s your favorite? I’m kinda partial to Iron Man myself.”

“I like Thor,” Carter said, his voice quiet as he followed her with his eyes as if he didn’t quite trust her yet. After all, he’d spent the past forty-five minutes getting used to Michelle. Now, he had to deal with her too?

“Thor is definitely cool. I wish I had that hammer, don’t you?” This nod was a bit more enthusiastic, so she asked him to open, and she checked everything out. “You’re new in town, huh? Are you in kindergarten?” She paused her exam as he nodded again.

“He loves his teacher, Miss Duffy,” his mother said from the corner. “Don’t you, kiddo?”

This time, a slight blush came along with his nod, and Sammi felt her heart give a little kick. “Do you know that Miss Duffy is a good friend of mine?” Carter’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “I know. What are the chances, right? But Northwood’s a big little city. When you go back to school, you tell her Dr. Sammi said hi, okay?” We obviously have a crush on the same girl, she almost added but caught it just in time.

Between dinner last night, the text this morning, and young Carter Jackson, the Universe didn’t seem like it was about to let her stop thinking about Keegan. Not just yet…

* * *

Keegan set her phone back down on her desk. Sammi hadn’t responded yet, and that was okay. She would. Keegan knew her pretty well, and even if she was angry or frustrated or whatever, she always texted back. Hearing about Jules hadn’t been easy for her, that had been clear last night, so maybe she just needed a little time before she answered Keegan’s text.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, then let it out her mouth. This was her favorite time of the workday, the first fifteen or twenty minutes alone in her classroom before the kids arrived. Everything was neat. The scents of construction paper and crayons hung in the air. The magnets were tidy, the toys all put away, the books lined up on the shelves, just waiting for story time. And then the kids would arrive in a flurry of sound and running footsteps and excitement, and she could hardly wait for them to get settled before she said good morning and told them what their plan was for today. Their open minds. Their innocent smiles. Their enthusiastic anticipation. She had no words for how much she loved it all.

Some days, she couldn’t believe this was her life. She’d wanted to be a teacher since she was a child. Every Christmas, her parents gave her something teacher related, until she’d had an entire makeshift classroom in the basement. She’d spent hours down there teaching all her dolls the alphabet and numbers and colors. She smiled now, thinking about how her parents likely still had some of that stuff somewhere on their property. And now, here she was, a bona fide kindergarten teacher, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The bell rang and then the sound of footsteps pounded through the halls. The older kids—the second and third and fourth graders—always seemed to run, sprinting to their classrooms. Kindergarteners were a bit more subtle, at least for a bit longer. School had only been in session for six weeks, and it still felt a bit new and uncertain to some of her kids.

They began filing in. She didn’t have desks in her classroom, she had tables, and she didn’t assign seats, but as had happened every year since she’d started teaching this grade, kids tended to sit in the same seat each day. It was a comfort thing, a familiar touchstone in what was still a somewhat unfamiliar setting.

“Good morning, Tasha,” she said to the first child through the door. Tasha smiled shyly as she unzipped her jacket and hung it on the hook above the little cubby with her name on it in purple construction-paper letters. Next came Jordie, then Michael, then Devon, then Alex the girl, followed by Alex the boy. Keegan sat and smiled and greeted each child. The sound volume in the room grew exponentially as the kids began to chat with their friends. A couple of the boys wrestled and laughed. A group of four little girls all sat at one table and were chatting about hair, what accessories they liked best, which color of barrette was the favorite. Within about eight minutes, her entire class was present.

She glanced at her phone. Still blank. She slid it into her purse, which she then tucked into the bottom drawer of her desk. She stood up and cleared her throat.

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning, Miss Duffy,” they said back in unison.