Mandy sipped the strong brew while staring out the window and watching the morning brighten. Caffeine cleared her head. The timer dinged, and she pulled the baked bread from the oven and set the loaves on a wire rack to cool. The scents of warm cinnamon and sugar filled the room. She refilled her mug and went out onto the back porch.

The kitchen door smacked into something metal. Mandy looked down. Next to the flowers Bill had brought her the other day, a container of pansies sat in the middle of the porch. The metal was antiqued and dented, as if someone had drop-kicked it from a garage sale to her back porch. The image repeated around the outside side was of a man’s face. His beard and hair flowed around his head like fire, or maybe rays of the sun. Despite the odd, almost intimidating depiction, Mandy smiled at the purple-and-white blooms rioting in the soil.

Had Bill left this for her? How sweet. As one of the earliest colorful annuals, pansies were her favorites. The hardly little flowers could endure the blasts of winter so common in a New England spring.

“Good morning.”

Mandy startled. She spun around. One hand went to her throat. Coffee sloshed onto the porch floorboards. Danny was standing in the doorway. His damp hair invoked thoughts of a warm beach and a rum-spiked drink. The only beaches she’d visited were rocky, the water a toe-numbing cold that did not invite the rest of her body to wade in.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He retreated to the kitchen for a second and returned with a dish towel. “Let me get that.” He bent down to mop up the spill.

Putting aside visions of places she’d likely never see and a vacation she’d never take, Mandy recovered. “It’s not your fault. I was looking at this pot of flowers. Bill must have put it there for me.”

Staring at the pot, Danny straightened. “It’s, um, different.”

Mandy laughed. “I’ve no idea where he dug up the pot, but pansies are my favorites.”

He tilted his head. “I’ll remember that.”

The comment drifted on the silent morning air. Mandy cleared her throat. “I have to get back to work. There’s coffee if you want it.” She reached for the doorknob. A strange branch was tied over the entrance. She paused. “What on earth has Bill been up to?”

Danny reached around her and opened the door. “Why would he hang a stick over your door?”

“I don’t know. Even for Bill, that’s strange.” From just a few inches away, Danny’s aftershave drifted to her nose. Light and fresh, it reminded her of the woods in midwinter, and tempted her to lean in for a better whiff.