Evergreens and Angels by Mary Manners Page B

here?”
    “I came on a break from college three years ago—spring break the year I graduated.”
    “That’s ironic. I’d headed to Panama City Beach that year with some buddies. You know how it goes…the last hurrah before real life begins. We may have even crossed paths along the interstate.”
    “Possibly.” Brynn loosened the top button of her navy wool coat. “I asked about you, but…”
    “I asked about you all the time, too.” He glanced across the street to the nursery, feeling a tug of guilt for leaving his brothers and Maddie to hold down the fort for the day. Everything seemed to be in order, though, so he tossed the guilt right out the window and turned back to Brynn. “We just never seemed to navigate the same schedule.”
    “Until now.”
    “How about we head inside, make some new memories?”
    “Sounds good.” Brynn unlatched her seatbelt. “But does your family need you across the street?”
    “They seem to be managing just fine.”
    They tromped through the snow and were met at the door by Jada. “Hi, ya’ll.” The veteran server flashed a smile along with the modest diamond solitaire Fred had placed on her finger Thanksgiving Day. After four years, he’d finally mustered the courage to ask for her hand in marriage. Today Jada’s hair was a pale shade of burgundy pulled into a stump of a tail; next week it might be spiked and midnight black. There was no telling. But her mega-watt smile and bone-dry humor were consistent, no matter the day or hue of her tresses. “Booth or table?”
    “A booth’s fine. Is that Anthony at the back-corner table?”
    “Yes, with your mom. They’re enjoying a late lunch together. Do you want to join them?”
    “No. Let them be.” The two had been cozy lately, piquing Dillon’s interest that they shared something more than an easy friendship. It was a good fit, he supposed, since Mr. Moretto had lost his wife about the same time Dillon’s dad had passed away. They’d both spent a good chunk of time alone and now seemed to enjoy each other’s company. “I’ll catch them on the way out.”
    “Works for me.” Jada led them to a booth near the kitchen, where the aroma of garlic infused the air. Beyond the serving line, the contents of a variety of pots and pans sizzled and spat. Fred worked diligently over the industrial stove to fill a flurry of orders clipped to a metal spindle. Obviously, the weather hadn’t deterred a crowd. “Can I bring you coffee?”
    “Sure, heavy on the cream and sugar.”
    “Of course, you’re a Cutler, aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes and turned to Brynn. “Let me guess, you take it black?”
    “That’s right. But how did you know?”
    “It’s a gift.” Jada tapped the eraser end of a pencil to her forehead. “And I’ll bet you’d like a plate of spinach ravioli to go with that.”
    “I hadn’t planned on that but, now that you mention it, ravioli sounds perfect.”
    “The usual for you, Dillon?”
    “Yep, spaghetti and meatballs.”
    Jada scrunched her nose as her lips dipped to a frown. “One day you’re going to venture into the big, bad world of three-cheese tortellini and eggplant lasagna.”
    “Maybe, but not today.” Dillon craned his neck, peering around her to spy the dessert counter. “But we’ll take a few slices of that tiramisu later on.”
    “Sure, spaghetti and tiramisu.” Jada drew an order pad from her apron, jotted a note as she sauntered away. One of the shoelaces on her fire-engine-red tennis shoes was loose and it slapped the tile with each step. “Coming right up.”
    Dillon shrugged from the jacket Brynn had returned to him that morning, noticing that it now carried the light, citrusy scent of her perfume. “I’ll bet this place has changed some since the last time you were here. Kami’s had her hand in a series of upscale renovations since she took over management from her father.”
    “Yes. I don’t remember the coffee shop and gallery next door and the booths