“That looks perfect,” Isabel said, joining her by the display. “I knew you’d make it look professional.”
“It’s a good collection,” Lynda admitted. “Although I still think most of these will gather dust. Sapphire Bay isn’t exactly overrun with aspiring veterinarians.”
Isabel shrugged, adjusting a book that had tilted sideways. “You never know. A teenager came in last week asking about wildlife rescue books. She said she wants to volunteer at a bird sanctuary when she gets to college.”
“Well, at least someone will appreciate them.” Lynda smiled, thinking of her own teen years when she’d devoured every animal book she could find. “How’s the book you’re writing coming along?”
Isabel sighed. “I have a dead body that no one can identify and a serial killer on the loose. I have to work out a way my heroine can find the killer.”
Lynda grinned. “If you need a brainstorming session, Kathleen and I have great imaginations.”
“I might have to take you up on that. Frank had some ideas, but they wouldn’t work with the rest of my plot.”
“Let us know when you want to meet,” Lynda told her friend as they moved to the front counter. “I’ve enjoyed reading the chapters you’ve finished.”
Isabel handed Lynda a box of bookmarks. “Sometimes, your feedback is the only thing that keeps me writing.”
Lynda unpacked the bookmarks and placed them on the counter. Isabel was a talented writer. Providing a little support and encouragement was the least she could do.
“What’s happening at the animal shelter?” Isabel asked. “Carol said you’ve been working a lot of extra hours.”
Lynda nodded. “They’re so short-staffed. It doesn’t help that there’s been an increase in the number of abandoned pets in the area. I helped Matt with a scared border collie this morning. Someone found him wandering near the highway.”
Isabel leaned against the counter. “Has Robert called again? About the practice in Denver?”
“He called yesterday,” Lynda admitted. “They’ve had a busy week. One of the vet techs quit, and they’re struggling to find a replacement.”
“So when are you going back to check on things?”
Lynda hesitated. “I should go soon. Just for a few days to help Robert sort out the staffing issues.”
“But you don’t want to,” Isabel guessed, studying her friend’s face.
Lynda sighed. “Even though I’m living here, I’m still responsible for the clinic. If there’s a staffing issue, I need to fix it. Robert’s awesome, but he’s swamped.”
Isabel smiled. “The Lynda Morth I remember from our teenage years would have said, ‘Responsibility is just grown-ups trying to stop you from having fun.’”
“The Lynda Morth from our teenage years thought leg warmers were high fashion and New Kids on the Block was classic music,” Lynda replied dryly. “Not exactly a paragon of wisdom.”
They both laughed, and Lynda felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. That was what she loved about being with her old friends—the easy way they could move from serious to silly and back again.
“Speaking of responsibilities,” Lynda said, “how are things going with Frank and Tommy? The last time I saw them, Tommy was talking about joining the junior fishing tournament.”
Isabel’s face softened at the mention of Frank and his grandson. “They’re wonderful. Tommy has entered the tournament, and Frank’s been taking him to the dock to give him fishing tips. And Frank...” She paused, a smile playing at her lips. “He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
Lynda nodded. She’d seen the way Frank looked at Isabel when he thought no one was watching him. It was sweet and kind, and everything her friend needed. “I’m happy for you,” she said, meaning it. After Isabel lost her husband, she deserved this second chance at happiness.
“It’s not always easy,” Isabel admitted. “We both have our baggage. But we’re figuring it out together.” She gave Lynda a pointed look. “Some baggage is worth unpacking.”
“Subtle,” Lynda said with a snort.
“I’m not talking about anyone in particular,” Isabel clarified, though her expression suggested otherwise. “I’m talking aboutyou holding onto the past so tightly it’s stopping you from moving forward.”
The comment hit closer to home than Lynda wanted to admit. Instead of dwelling on the past, she busied herself with unwrapping more books.
“Ray destroyed your faith in people,” Isabel continued gently. “But not all men are like him.”
A customer walked in. It gave Lynda a moment to collect herself as Isabel greeted them warmly and directed them to the mystery section. When Isabel returned, Lynda had composed herself.
