“I was eight when I lost my father. There’s a lot I don’t remember about him, but the one thing I remember clearly was his ability to have fun and enjoy the moment, no matter what the circumstances.” He put his glass down. “He was a lot like your mother that way. I try to do the same. It’s not an easy thing to do. People think it’s frivolous and shallow—”

“But it takes a lot of courage.”

He smiled. “That’s right. Letting yourself love—live—takes courage.”

He didn’t understand her mother at all, although he thought he did. Liza could see now that all the traveling, the emotional distance, the way Kathleen lived her life, wasn’t selfishness but self-protection. Even though Liza still didn’t know the details, for the first time in her life she felt as if she understood and understanding changed everything.

“Yes, it takes courage.”

“Trying something knowing you might fail, takes courage. Loving, when you know there’s a good chance you’ll get your heart broken.”

“Yes.” How much courage must it have taken for her mother to allow herself to love Liza’s father after everything that had happened?

“It’s always easier to protect yourself but when you build walls around yourself you don’t only keep the bad out, you keep the good out too. I guess that’s why I find your mother so inspiring,” Finn said. “She knows what she wants and goes for it. She doesn’t let fear get in the way. I want to be like her when I grow up.”

Liza had thought the same thing about her mother, but she knew better now.

Kathleen had let fear get in the way.

She stood up and cleared the plates. “Don’t grow up. I think you’re fine the way you are.”

“Says the woman who tried to kill me with a look when I almost rammed her into a ditch.”

“You recognized me?”

“Of course. You’re pretty unforgettable, Liza.” He’d tilted his chair back. Sunglasses concealed his eyes but she didn’t need to see the way he was looking at her. She could feel it.

Her skin heated as if someone had singed her skin with a blow torch. It had been so long since anyone had flirted with her she wasn’t sure she recognized it. She certainly didn’t know what to do about it.

No man had told her she was unforgettable. It was like pouring water on a thirsty plant.

Flustered, she carried the plates into the kitchen and focused on dessert and coffee.