“Wow, she’s quite the gardener.And she likes color,” Bronwyn remarked when they reached the wooden gate at the foot of Mae’s front garden.A weathered brick path led from inside it up to the house.
“She’s a colorful person.”
Mae’s three little rescue mutts let out a chorus of excited yips and barks as they climbed the front steps.“It’s open.Come on through,” Mae called out from the back.
They took off their shoes inside the front door, and Willow led the way through to the bright, cheery kitchen while the dogs trotted after them, sniffing at their ankles curiously.
“I thought we’d eat out here,” Mae said from the other side of the open French door that led out onto her back patio as she set a platter down.
A giant rainbow patio umbrella shaded the round wooden table in the center of the back garden, painted a bright, cheerful yellow.All the wooden chairs around it were painted a different color.
“Bronwyn, iced tea okay?It’s homemade.”
“Lovely, thank you, it’s been forever since I had the good stuff.The iced tea in the UK is awful.I meantragic.”
“Looks gorgeous, Mae,” Willow said, taking the chair across from her friend.“What are we having?”
“Peach caprese salad, fresh butter rolls, and blueberry crisp for dessert.”
Bronwyn eyed the lunch spread in astonishment.“This looks amazing.”
Mae’s smile was full of warmth.“It’s from the heart.Hope you like it.”
They enjoyed a leisurely lunch over laughs and great conversation while fat, fuzzy bees hummed in the flowers and colorful little Anna’s hummingbirds zipped around to sip from the various feeders Mae had hanging around the garden.
“It’s like a private paradise back here,” Bronwyn said, clearing the table over Mae’s protests.“You sit right here and relax.We’ll handle the dishes.”
“She’s right,” Willow said.“You work way too hard all the time.Let us help.”
Mae didn’t like it, but she reluctantly gave in.After cleaning up, they had another glass of iced tea in the back garden.Before Willow knew it, the sun was sinking toward the horizon, painting the forest behind the houses in a rosy gold.
“Wow, time flies.Thanks for everything, Mae, but I need to go feed Rufus his dinner.”
“Of course.”Mae hugged them both goodbye.“You know you’re welcome here anytime.Hope you visit again real soon, Bronwyn.”
“Oh, I plan to.Between you, Willow, and the new sheriff, I have plenty of incentive to come back.”
Mae’s eyebrows rose, clear interest gleaming in her eyes.“The sheriff, huh?Now that is interesting.”
Willow snickered and guided her friend through the front garden gate.“Might want to be careful mentioning Rafe to her.Mae’s a known matchmaker around here.”
“Doesn’t surprise me in the least.She’s so welcoming, and the pride flag out front tells me she’s inclusive,” Bronwyn said as they walked down the road.
“Big time.Her grandson was gay.”
“Was?”
She nodded, a familiar ache forming in her chest.“Carson was murdered here on the island four years ago.”
“Oh my God, seriously?”
“Yes.Hate crime.”She hated thinking about it.Carson had been the kindest, sweetest person ever.For him to die like that, alone and terrified...it made her sick.
“Jesus.How old was he?”
“Twenty-seven.It was awful.Almost broke Mae.She raised him from the age of fourteen.”
“Why, what happened to his parents?”
