“Uh-uh-uh. That’s not the right attitude. By the time I was your age I was through with my second husband and on to my third.” She laughed—a deep, throaty chuckle, made raspy by too many cigarettes.

“I guess I haven’t met the right man yet.”

“Of course, you have. You just don’t know it.” Brynnie blew across her cup and sighed. “You know, he might be right under your nose.”

“Is that a fact?” The conversation made Bliss a little uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help being intrigued by this woman who was so different from her mother. While Margaret Cawthorne had always been perfectly dressed, not a hair out of place, her smile somewhat immobile, her fingernails polished, her jewelry refined and understated, Brynnie wore tight jeans, T-shirts that had seen better days and costume jewelry that was outrageous and fun, rather than elegant.

Brynnie eyed Bliss over the rim of her cup. “I heard you saw Mason Lafferty the other day.”

Bliss nearly choked on a swallow of coffee. This was a small town.

“I thought you two had some kind of, well”—she waved her pudgy fingers in the air and frowned—“chemistry, for lack of a better word.”

Heat stole up Bliss’s neck. That “chemistry” was none of Brynnie’s business, and yet she’d probably already heard the story of her involvement with Mason from Bliss’s father. “There was—once. It was a long time ago. It’s over.”

“Hmm.” Brynnie chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. “Some loves die hard. Never go away. Oh, they can be put on hold or people can pretend they don’t exist, but it’s all a big lie and one day you look in the mirror and face the fact that the love of your life might slip away if you don’t do something.”

“Are you talking about you and Dad?” Bliss asked woodenly. This woman might soon become her stepmother, but, as far as Bliss was concerned, she had no right to hand out advice, especially on the subject of love.

“Right now, I’m talking about you.” Brynnie drained her cup as John’s boots pounded up the back steps to the porch. “You and Mason Lafferty. You can lie to yourself, if you want to, but it won’t do any good. Besides, he’s a good man and single.”

Bliss bit her tongue to keep from saying something harsh about Brynnie being involved with her father while he was married.

“That marriage didn’t seem to take. Over real quick. He and Terri split up years ago.” She pointed an accusatory red-polished fingernail in Bliss’s direction. “If you ask me, now that he’s back in town, Mason Lafferty is the best catch in Bittersweet. Well, next to your father and my own boys, of course.”

“Of course,” Bliss said dryly as Brynnie shoved back her chair and the legs scraped against yellowed linoleum.