Plus, he was a middle-aged man who’d been to hell and back. He deserved to do whatever—and whoever—he wanted.

“Right.” Dan looked down at his lap. “Well, thanks for being the courier.”

“Happy to.” If she smiled any harder her teeth would break.

That night, Renee poured herself an extra stiff gin and tonic. She squeezed fresh lime juice over the top and gave the drink a good stir.

She was not a heavy drinker, particularly with cocktails, but tonight she needed something to numb the confusion swirling inside. She wanted Dan, yes. But her life had been so simple for so long. And simple was nice. Simple didn’t break hearts. Simple didn’t leave you.

The image of Dan holding the framed photo of Meggie was seared into her mind. The slump of his shoulders, the wrinkles in his forehead.

A woman like Essie would be better for Dan. She was vivacious and outgoing. She would break him out of his dating cocoon, show him the dazzling sunlight. Renee was too timid, too shy for any of that. If anything, she’d be responsible for a regression.

“I thought I was lonely, but then I met Renee,” she could imagine him saying to his sports writer brother. “Talk about a strikeout. She was so boring, I’d rather be celibate the rest of my life.”

Cringe.

She plunked Grandma Hester’s recipe book on top of the kitchen counter and began to sift through the yellowed pages, each one filled with the woman’s neat cursive. In addition to the recipe itself, Grandma Hester had written little notes in the margins.

Melissa’s favorite. That child asked me to make this every day for the rest of her life.

Renee found herself laughing and made a mental note to show the page to Sadie.

She turned to a recipe for a chocolate–peanut butter torte.

The combo of chocolate and peanut butter could cure all the world’s problems. I dare say, we’d have world peace if everyone enjoyed this evening dessert.

If this torte could inspire world peace, it could certainly help mend her crumbling heart. She searched for a jar of crunchy peanut butter and the highest quality chocolate she could find. And then, set to work.

For hours she sifted, stirred, measured, and baked. She lost herself in the world of Grandma Hester, reading her bits of wisdom with delight.

This is my family’s preferred Christmas treat. I think holiday indulgences are so important.

That “too much of a good thing” saying does not apply to this peach galette, and I dare anyone to prove me wrong.

Almost any nut can be substituted for the crust—and you’d have to be a nut not to love it!