“I think I’ll save my last taco for later.” She tapped the bag. “I’ve reached my limit.” With food—and unsettling questions.

“In that case, it’s back to the studio for me.” He stood.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” She reached for her crutches.

“Don’t bother. Stay here and enjoy the concert.” He motioned toward her open window and paused to listen as a goldfinch trilled. “He’s giving quite a performance. I’d say he’s in full courting mode. Enjoy the rest of your day, Beth.”

“Thank you. And thanks for the lunch treat.”

“It was my pleasure. As my abuela also said, we may not be able to fix everyone’s problems—but it is within our power to give everyone we meet a moment of joy. Take care of yourself.”

He exited the kitchen, and half a minute later the door clicked shut behind him.

Beth remained at the table, sipping her water for several more minutes, the song of the courting finch filling her kitchen with music—and hope—as she replayed her visit with Charley.

Odd.

During all the years she’d frequented his taco stand, they’d never had such a serious one-on-one conversation. Yes, Charley always listened and offered his typical sage comments, but she’d never given his diplomatic advice much consideration. Perhaps because she’d been shutting out his gentle guidance all along.

As she was shutting out Steve’s attempts to reconnect.

Beth pushed herself to her feet, fitted her crutches under her arms, and maneuvered herself over to the window.

On a nearby limb, the goldfinch continued to sing. Searching for companionship, if Charley’s comment about courting was correct.

Even birds got lonely, it seemed.

Yet they didn’t have the kind of baggage humans carried around when relationships went awry. A mere song wouldn’t be sufficient to smooth out the tangles in a situation like hers.

But written words could—if they came from the heart.

Did Steve’s?

Reading his notes would help her determine that. Only after she listened to what he had to say could she know if giving him a second chance was worth the risk.

And thanks to Christi and Charley, she was getting closer to taking that step every day.

Yes!

Tasha was finally returning her call.

Christi slid onto a stool behind the counter at Eye of the Beholder and pushed the talk button. “It’s about time.”

“Hey, girlfriend. My phone died at the restaurant last night, and I slept in this morning.” A yawn came over the line. “What’s up?”

“I have news.”

“Yeah?” A banging pot reverberated in the background. “Good or bad?”

“Good.”

“Lay it on me. I could use an injection of optimism to get me through my double shift at the restaurant today. My boss has been on a tear lately. Another incentive to escape and open my own place.”

“Your escape is at hand.”