April was a different matter. She was only four months younger than Nessa, but she looked ten years older. She’d always been tall and thin, but today her clothes hung on her like a burlap bag on a broomstick. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail, but a few strands had escaped to stick to the sweat on her narrow face, and her green eyes looked haunted as they darted around the restaurant. She finally managed a weak smile when she locked eyes with Flynn. He hadn’t seen her in at least ten years, and she’d definitely changed—a lot.

“Sorry I’m late. I got stuck in construction traffic around Wichita Falls.” Nessa pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

“And I’m running on a prayer and four bald tires, so I didn’t dare go very fast.” April sighed as she slid into a chair beside Nessa.

“So this is it, Mr. Jones,” Nessa said. “Is Daddy still cussin’ you through his lawyer? He’s tried every way in the world to find a loophole to appeal this will.”

“Please, call me Paul. There are no loopholes. Miz Lucy O’Riley made sure of that when she had me draw it up,” he said, “and you ladies aren’t late. We’ve only been here a few minutes.” He adjusted his bifocals and focused on April. “You’re the youngest one of the grandchildren, right?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m April, born in that month. Nessa was born in January, and Flynn on the last day of February, so I’m just barely the youngest, and I’m pleased to meet you.” April’s eyes seemed to be glued to the last bite of pie on Paul’s plate.

“Do y’all want a cup of coffee or a fried pie?” Flynn asked. “I’m going to wait until we get done here before I order.”

“I’ll wait, but I am hungry. I skipped lunch so I wouldn’t be too late,” Nessa said.

“I’d like a sweet tea,” April said.

Flynn caught the waitress’s attention and ordered tea for April and refills for Paul and himself.