Was she a bad person? What was friendship if it wasn’t standing firm when someone tried to push you away? At the very least she should have made it clear to Joanna that when she was ready to talk, Mel would be here waiting. But she’d taken her hurt feelings and nurtured them while she’d waited for Joanna to call. And time had passed, and then the gap between them had widened until it seemed impassable.

She waved a greeting to a couple of locals and then headed to the Surf Café.

It was early but the deck was already busy, which didn’t surprise her because the café was everyone’s favorite place to be. For a start it occupied possibly the best position on this stretch of coastline, right in front of the beach with a view of the ocean and the surfers. Waves crashed onto the sand just yards away and if you closed your eyes you could almost feel the spray. Often in the mornings the beach was blanketed in sea mist, but this morning the skies were clear. And if the views and the position weren’t enough to tempt you, then there was the food and the atmosphere.

Their parents and grandparents had focused on providing food and drink, and Nate, sociable and easygoing by nature, had expanded on that. Two nights a week he arranged entertainment, tapping into the community and supporting local artists. He held painting classes and cookery classes. Earlier that month he’d found a local jeweler willing to give a demonstration. But most popular of all were the evenings when he invited musicians, when the soft sounds of music tangled with the sounds of the ocean and people nursed their drinks and watched the sun set over the water and created memories that would last forever. Everyone agreed that the reason they loved the Surf Café wasn’t the position, although that was unbeatable, or the food, which was delicious. The best thing about the place was the atmosphere that somehow left you feeling as if you’d had a two-week vacation.

“Hey, Mel.” Rhonda waved at her from her table at the front of the deck, then snapped a photo of her coffee. “Everything your brother makes is a work of art.”

“Hey yourself.” Mel could never understand why people wanted to take photos of their food instead of just enjoying it, but she paused by the table, happy to chat. She and Rhonda had been in school together, a label that applied to most people of her age in Silver Point.

The doors to the café were open and she could see Nate handing over a breakfast order to a girl in a pair of surf shorts.

They were both laughing.

Rhonda glanced at them and sighed. “He laughs, he flirts, but he never dates.”

“He dates plenty.”