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be so hard to actually be there, but the café was something she’d forgotten. Until she’d walked in the door and a flood of memories assaulted her.
    It proved too much for Alex, running on no coffee and a slight hangover. She left the restaurant shaking and feeling as though she’d just survived an Iron Man challenge. What the hell was up with that? Honestly, she hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, but the café had been the place she and her mother had gone alone. The special place they had gone each Saturday for as long as Alex could remember.
    If only there were a Starbucks in town. Alex knew she would have to get used to the slower pace of life, the lack of amenities and instant gratification of L.A. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten drunk and passed out the night before, it wouldn’t have hit her so hard.
    She leaned against the side of the Camaro and took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart and actually get her composure back. No need for the world to see her falling apart, because she knew sure as a bear shit in the woods that some polite neighborly patron would stop to help her. That was how it was in the country, in small-town America. She could almost hear someone approaching and straightened up.
    And, of course, spilled hot coffee down her arm.
    “Fuck me.” She switched the coffee to her other hand and shook off the burning-hot liquid. After wiping her arm on her pants and vowing to put something on the burn later, she got into the car.
    It felt safe in there; the leather seats were familiar and welcoming. Even the violet appeared to welcome her presence. Perhaps because the car had experienced David’s touch, his care applied to it for so long. He’d told her it was the first car he’d purchased, at age eighteen, and he’d vowed never to sell it. Alex would keep that vow alive for him and hang on to it for her natural life as well.
    After a moment, she was able to take a sip of the coffee without risk of more grievous injury. The hot liquid splashed down her throat like the nectar of the gods. It was damn good coffee too—enough to rival the big chains with its flavor. She decided it would be a good idea to sit tight until it was gone.
    The windows in the car began to fog up either from her heavy breathing or the hot coffee. She grumbled as she rolled the window down, recognizing that electric windows were something to be treasured if she ever had a car with them. The cold breeze hit her wet hair again and she shivered as if a hand had reached out and caressed her.
    She wanted to believe it was her mother, that Katie Finley had been waiting for her daughter to return. To make peace with all she’d left behind ten years earlier. Alex closed her eyes and wished like hell it were true. She could use her mother’s support and help right about then.
    Of course, it was just the wind. Regardless, she left the windows up as she gulped the last of the coffee. But it felt comforting even to pretend it was her mother’s hand stroking her hair.
    Alex spotted a trash can in front of the diner and hopped out to throw away the cup, as well as the rest of the trash that had accumulated in the passenger seat of the car.
    “Wow, that’s a pretty ride you’ve got there, miss.” The man’s voice didn’t startle her, but it sincerely pissed her off. How many men would hit on her because of the goddamn car?
    She turned to tell whoever it was to fuck off and found an older man with snow-white hair and a cane. “Oh, uh, well, thanks.”
    The man never took his eyes off the Camaro. “Had one myself back in the day. Loved that damn car so much my wife made me sell it.” He chuckled to himself. “She thought maybe I loved it more than her.”
    “Did you?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. Sometimes she thought David had that kind of relationship with the damn thing too.
    The man finally turned to look at her. She saw longing and loneliness in his watery blue gaze. “No, but the love I gave her was never