Legal bills had eaten through his father’s estate, and his last correspondence with his aunt had been when the house was sold. It had taken time to find a buyer, and he was nearing graduation at Parris Island when the envelope came—plain, white, and with a check inside. There was no note, and he’d seen no cause to reply. Eventually, he’d used the money as a down payment on the house Nicole and Ellie lived in now.

He didn’t know what to expect from the meeting and realized that he only had a child’s memory of his aunt. He didn’t know what kind of a person she was. She was just Aunt Miranda, who’d looked after him and made sure he didn’t starve while Duke was out of town. Whatever else may have happened, he told himself, she had done more than most would have. He’d lost a father, but she’d lost a brother. Still, he didn’t have the first idea what Duke Gibson had meant to his sister. If he was being honest, he had stayed away from Charlottesville out of the stubborn desire to avoid this very meeting.

The Blue Moon Diner wasn’t the same. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. It had been ten years, more, and management had changed yet again. He felt a sadness for the place that surprised him.

A young white woman with tattoos down both arms touched his arm and told him to sit anywhere. He chose a booth in the front corner so he could watch the front door for Miranda.

Gibson thought the new owners had done a nice job of maintaining the feel of the place, but his father surely would have expressed disdain for most of the changes.

Duke Vaughn was progressive on a lot of fronts, but on some matters, like his diners, he was fussily old school. Take the records overflowing the windowsills, or the beer and liquor for sale. Neither belonged in the Duke Vaughn school of American diners. The chalkboard schedule of nightly singers would have surely drawn a groan. “Diners don’t have singers!” he could hear his father pronouncing. And the menu, which had items like the Mountain Trout Club and the Tandoori Chicken Sandwich, would almost certainly have earned Duke Vaughn’s scorn.

The club sounded pretty good. He handed the menu back to the waitress.