“I’d pay good money to see that,” Lynda said, taking a sip of her wine.
Matt laughed. “I’ll see if I can find the picture. I know I took one, but it was only for medical record purposes.”
“Of course,” Lynda agreed, her smile reaching her eyes.
The awkwardness disappeared, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation as they studied the menus. Matt recommended the trout, explaining how Chef Renard used a local huckleberry glaze that transformed the dish into something extraordinary.
“I haven’t eaten trout before,” Lynda confessed. “It wasn’t on the menu of the restaurants I visited in Denver.”
After the waiter took their order, Matt leaned forward. “What do you do in Denver when you aren’t working?”
Lynda’s fingers traced the rim of her water glass, and Matt noticed the slight hesitation before she answered. “Apart from catching up with my friends, I spend most of my time at work. My ex-husband and I started the vet clinic. We worked long hours, trying to build our client base and pay our bills. Those bad habits stayed with me.” Lynda looked up at him with a rueful smile. “Since I’ve been in Sapphire Bay, I’ve realized how small my world has become. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I can’t remember the last time I tried something new, like trout, just because I wanted to.”
Matt sent her a reassuring smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re trying something new tonight. Did you enjoy working with your ex-husband?”
Lynda nodded.“In the beginning, I did. Ray was always pushing the boundaries of what was possible. We focused on cases other vets wouldn’t take.” Her eyes grew distant. “They were good years. We made real advances, helping animals that would have been euthanized elsewhere. After the divorce, I kept the practice going the same way. I pushed even harder and took on more complex cases. I guess I had something to prove.”
“To Ray?” Matt asked.
“To myself,” Lynda corrected. “I wanted to know that what we’d built at the clinic had been as much mine as his.”
Matt nodded, understanding the need to assert your own identity after loss, even if it was a different kind. “I know what you mean. When Maria wasn’t teaching, she handled all the clinic’s accounts and tax requirements. I was just the vet who treated the animals.”
Their food arrived, and they fell silent as they tried the trout. It was perfectly prepared, with the huckleberry glaze adding a sweet tartness that balanced the richness of the fish.
“This is amazing,” Lynda said after her first bite. “You weren’t exaggerating.”
“Paul is an incredible chef,” Matt replied. “He uses local, organic ingredients in all his dishes. I’ve never been disappointed in a meal I’ve bought here.”
They ate in appreciative silence for a few moments before Matt continued his earlier thought. “Anyway, after Maria was gone, I had to figure out how to run a business, not just treat animals. Stephanie helped when she could, but she was sixteen and dealing with her own grief.”
“That must have been incredibly difficult,” Lynda said, her expression softening. “Raising a teenage daughter alone while grieving yourself.”
Matt nodded. He rarely spoke about how he’d felt after Maria died. “There were days when I wasn’t sure we’d makeit. Stephanie was so angry at the cancer, at the world, and at me for somehow not saving her mother.” He set down his fork, the recollection still powerful after all these years. “She’d slam doors, stay out past curfew, and pick fights over nothing. Then I’d find her in Maria’s closet in the middle of the night, surrounded by her mother’s clothes, sobbing.”
Lynda reached across the table, her hand covering his briefly. “Grief isn’t linear, especially for teenagers. They feel everything so intensely.”
“Amy had a hard time with your divorce, too?” Matt asked.
“She was in college when it happened, but yes.” Lynda’s expression grew thoughtful. “At first, she was firmly on my side. She was furious with her father for the affair, for throwing away our family. But then Ray began a campaign to win her over. He bought her expensive gifts and took her on incredible vacations with Melissa. Nothing was too much trouble.” She shook her head. “It created a rift between Amy and me for years. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just ‘get over it’ and be friendly with her dad at family events.”
“That’s a lot to ask,” Matt said, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward Lynda.
“It was,” she agreed. “Eventually, Stephanie and I found our way back to each other. When her first son was born, she called me straight away. That’s when I knew we’d be okay.” A smile touched her lips. “My grandsons have been the greatest joy. Dylan is eight and full of energy and curiosity. What he doesn’t know about computers isn’t worth knowing. Eddie is five years old and more reserved. He thinks things through, carefully watching everything before diving in.”
The pride in her voice as she spoke about her grandsons made Matt smile. “Stephanie’s children are similar. Their personalities shone through from the day they were born. Lily’s the fearless one, always climbing higher than she should, tryingthings that make me hold my breath. Ethan observes, calculates, and then executes his plans with impressive precision. He’s six years old and manages to surprise me each time I see him.”
“How old is Lily?” Lynda asked.
“Nine going on nineteen,” Matt replied with a chuckle. “She’s already negotiating bedtime extensions and allowance increases like a seasoned diplomat.”
Lynda laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Dylan recently gave his mom a PowerPoint on why he should be allowed to have a pet snake.”
“Did it work?”
“It might have if his mother hadn’t been so firmly against the idea,” Lynda admitted. “I was impressed with his research, though. He’d included habitat requirements, feeding schedules, even a budget for supplies.”
As they finished their meal and ordered coffee, Matt was drawn to the way Lynda’s face became animated when she spoke about her family, her work, and the causes she cared about. There was a depth to her that went beyond their shared profession—a compassion tempered by experience, a wisdom earned through both joy and heartbreak.
