She turned on the lamp and glanced at the empty toddler bed across the room, still made up with a pink-and-white fitted quilt. She could almost see the tiny figure that once occupied it, cheeks rosy with sleep, a smile twitching the corner of her mouth as a sweet dream danced through her mind.
She ached for those tender moments of cuddling with her sister and singing lullabies. Riley Jo’s curls always smelled like baby shampoo and seemed softer than the shared pillow that cradled their heads.
Abby swallowed the sting in her throat and told herself not to cry. She needed to be brave today. Her mother would be more fragile than usual—not that she would admit it to anyone.
Abby slid out of bed and onto the wood floor. She stepped over to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and carefully removed a small white-satin box. She took out the gold heart ring with a tiny diamond she’d received for her tenth birthday and held it in her palm. She pressed the ring to her cheek and closed her eyes, remembering the sound of her father’s voice.
“You’ll always be my princess,” Daddy said, sliding the heart ring on her finger. “Even when you’re all grown up and some handsome and brilliant young man convinces you to marry him …”
The blaring alarm clock stole the sweetness of the moment, and Abby rushed over and turned it off. She let her racing pulse settle down and held the ring to the light once more, blinking back her tears. Finally, she returned the precious keepsake to the satin box and tucked it in the corner of her drawer. Not even happy memories would ease the angst of reliving this painful, life-changing day for a fifth time. She just wanted to get it behind her.
She picked up her khakis and Angel View staff shirt from the overstuffed chair next to her bed and pushed herself toward the bathroom.
It would be a tough day to get through. Working would help. But she wasn’t going to pretend it was just another day, even if the rest of her family did.
Abby hurried along the glass wall at Flutter’s Cafe, balancing a tray of empty breakfast dishes on one palm, the sadness in her heart soothed by the magnificent lava-colored sky visible as far as the eye could see. Sunrays fanned out from the golden rim separating earth and sky and turned the blanket of fog on Beaver Lake a glowing shade of pink—
Abby felt a jolt, and then the tray flew from her hand and landed with a deafening crash. Glass shattered. Silverware clanked on the stone floor. Her cheeks flushed as she stared at her mother.
Kate Cummings scanned the broken dishes, a look of realization replacing her blank stare. “That door really whacked you. Let me see.” She gently brushed the hair off Abby’s forehead and looked for any sign of injury. “You’re going to have a bump, honey. But it’s not bleeding. How do you feel?”
“My pride hurts a lot worse than my head.” Abby felt her cheeks warm as she imagined customers staring. “What about you?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
Her mother smoothed her neatly coiffed hair that was almost as gray as it was auburn, then straightened the Angel View owner-manager name tag she had worn ever since Abby could remember.
“Sorry, Mama. You can take it out of my paycheck.”
“I’m not going to dock you.” Her mother smiled, though her eyes looked tired and sad. “Just be careful.”
“The sunrise was awesome, and for a moment I almost forgot … anyhow, it won’t happen again.”
Her mother seemed to go a little pale at the reminder. Abby ducked down to pick up the silverware and broken dinnerware.
“Don’t fool with that, honey. You’ll cut yourself.” Mama reached for her arm and pulled her to her feet.
Abby avoided eye contact. It was impossible to hide her feelings, and it seemed obvious that her mother was working hard to contain her own.
Savannah Surette, her ponytail swaying from side to side, hurried over to them. “Here, boss,” she said to Mama. “Let me get that. I’ll fetch the broom and have this cleaned up in no time.”
“Thanks.” Her mother glanced over at the bustling dining room and then out the window at the June sunrise that painted the clouds covering the lake. “I’m sure the guests hardly noticed our little mishap—not with a view like that.”
“That’s fuh shore,” Savannah said. “The bayou was pretty, and we had oodles of fog, but we