I responded to Taylor’s text and then slid my phone into my apron before walking over to a table with glasses of water. Tourists—an older gentleman and his white-haired wife—settled in at Don’s favorite table. Chuck had had a small plaque made, and Phaedra had replaced the beat-up, rusted Alaska license plate that hung above where Don used to sit. I glanced up at the words engraved in the gold plating.

THIS TABLE IS DEDICATED IN LOVING MEMORY OF

DONALD MCGENSEY

The gentleman removed his hat and propped his cane against the wall.

“My name is Falyn, and I’ll be your server this morning. May I get you a cup of coffee to start?”

“Yes,” he said, opening the menu Kirby had set in front of him. “Half-and-half, please.”

“The same,” his wife said.

“You got it.” I returned to the drink station, pouring them fresh cups of coffee.

Kirby strolled from her podium and around the bar to where I stood. “You have a look.”

“What kind of look?”

“A happy look. More than happy. Things seem to be going well with Taylor.”

“Yes.”

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised that you even gave him a chance. You haven’t given any hotshot the time of day since I met you.”

“He’s different.”

“He must be because those are the famous last words of every girl left behind around here, and I would never have thought I’d hear you say them.”

“That’s not funny,” I said.

“Leave her be,” Phaedra said, shooing Kirby away.

Kirby offered a cease-fire with a wink, leaving me for her station.

“She’s just teasing you,” Phaedra said. “We all know that Taylor is one of the good ones.”

I loaded the saucers with coffee cups and silver creamer full of half-and-half onto a tray. “He is.”

The day passed both quick and slow, seeming to drag on and then the hours flying by near closing time. Now living for the weekends, time in general either passed too fast or too slow. Time seemed to move in fast-forward when Taylor and I were together. There was no in between.

Valentine’s Day came and went. Taylor and I both worked that evening, so he stayed in Estes Park, but we more than made up for it that weekend.

I began my mornings and ended my evenings on the phone with Taylor. If I were really lucky, he would get impatient for one of us to have a day off, and he’d drive down to see me, only to have to drive back early the next morning. On the rare occasion when we both had the weekend off, Taylor would drive straight to the Springs early Saturday morning and stay until just before dawn on Monday.

I was looking forward to spending the weekend with him in St. Thomas.