I shake my head. “You have the body of a twenty-five-year-old.”

Fred places one of his hands on mine. “Bless you. But I was ready for a change, and my family lives in Detroit, so it’s nice to be a little closer. This move was for both of us. A relationship shouldn’t just be about one person giving everything and the other person taking.”

I swallow. But what if I stop giving everyone everything, and then they don’t give me anything back to fill the void?

I keep that question to myself.

“I’m glad you guys are happy,” I say sincerely. “And thanks for talking to me. I’ll see you soon.”

Fred holds up his hand in a wave and I shut the door behind me. The air is slightly chilly, but there’s a promise in the air. It might be rainy and cold and, okay, it wouldn’t be unheard of if it started snowing in April, but warm weather is coming. Things are growing, and I can feel it.

Chapter Twelve

We’re busy on Friday, like usual (people like to roll into their weekends highly caffeinated, I guess), so it takes me a while to notice the two unexpected guests sitting at Gary’s table. Random tablemates in general aren’t unusual for Gary; he’ll hold a conversation with anybody, at any time, about any topic. But the guests themselves aren’t our typical patrons.

I leave Tobin in charge of the counter and head toward the table. “What are you guys doing?” I ask Doug and Shivan.

“I was telling D-Money and the Shivanenator about the girls,” Gary says, taking out his wallet and opening it to reveal several photos of his ferrets in their (admittedly impressive) habitat.

I lean in to look at the pictures, then shake my head. “That’s great, Gary, but I mean . . . why are you guys here?”

“We were just talking about how weird it is that we never come in here,” Shivan tells me. “And then Doug was in here the other day . . .”

“And I was like, damn, this place rules,” Doug continues. “Great coffee, great conversation.” He gestures toward Gary, who nods. “And great service.” He smiles in my direction.

“I can’t give you anything for free,” I say. “Nick has a strict policy about that. I mean, maybe you can have a day-old muffin, but that’s it.”

“That’s not why we’re here. Wait, are you serious about the free old muffins?” Doug asks.

Shivan points at him. “Focus.”

Doug shakes his head. “Right. We want to talk to you.”

I smile. “Do you want me to start bowling with you every week because I’m so great?”

“No way. That lucky strike aside, you really suck. No offense,” Shivan says.

My smile fades. “Muffin offer rescinded.”

“Did I ever tell you guys about the time I almost lost a finger bowling?” Gary asks.

Doug and Shivan look interested, but I wave a hand. “Not now, Gary.”