Margo reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I know, Wills. It feels like yesterday and forever at the same time.” She gave a tight smile.
“Oh, Margo, I’m sorry,” Willa gasped. “How selfish of me. You lost Travis.”
“We were just engaged,” Margo told her. “You had been married for years so…”
“So, nothing,” Willa said, emotion deepening her voice. “You never got to have a life with the man you loved.”
“We had two good years,” Margo pointed out, her eyes suspiciously glassy. She squeezed Willa’s hand. “Every day I wish that I hadn’t been so stubborn and had dated him a few months after he moved to town.” She swallowed. “It would have given me another year with him.”
“That’s why, if you get a second chance at love…” Willa’s eyes moved toward the door where Rad’s figure could be seen through one of the glass windows, talking on the phone. “You must grab it with both hands. Most people don’t get a second chance at love.”
“I hope you’re going to take your own advice,” Margo stated. “And as for a second chance at love…” she grinned, looking in the direction Willa had. “Who knows. We’ll see where the wind blows.” With that, Margo changed the subject. “So, how are the preparations coming along?”
The memorial ceremony was still six weeks away, but already Willa could feel the familiar tightness in her chest that came every August as the anniversary approached. Ten years since her husband Shaun had died alongside three other brave firefighters at Ember Lake, saving the lives of everyone at the memorial campground while sacrificing their own. Ten years of raising their children alone, of being both mother and father, of making decisions that affected not just her family but an entire community that looked to her for leadership.
“Complicated, as always. The state fire marshal wants to attend this year, plus we’ve got families coming in from all over the country. Grace is helping with the logistics, thank goodness, but there’s still so much to coordinate.” Willa rubbed her temples, feeling the familiar stress headache building. “Sometimes I think it would be easier to keep the ceremony small and private.”
“But you know that’s not what the town wants,” Margo said gently. “We believe in community, and in bringing people together. The memorial isn’t just about honoring the four men who died that day. It’s about celebrating the lives they saved and the legacy they left behind.”
Willa nodded, knowing Margo was right but still feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility. Every year, the memorial grew larger, drawing firefighters from across the state, families who’d been touched by similar tragedies, and community members who wanted to show their support. It was beautiful and meaningful and absolutely exhausting.
“At least my mom will be here this year,” Willa said, trying to focus on the positive. “I was worried she wouldn’t be able to travel after the accident.”
“How is June doing?” Margo asked.
“Better than expected, actually. The doctors say she’s healing well, but they want her to take it easy for the next few months. That’s why she’s coming to stay with us instead of just visiting for the memorial weekend.” Willa couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. Having her mother stay for an extended period would be wonderful for all of them, especially the children who adored their grandmother.
“That’ll be good for everyone,” Margo said. “June always brings such energy to town when she visits. And Grace will love having her grandmother here.”
Before Willa could respond, the bell above the coffee shop door chimed, and she looked up to see Ace McKenna entering. Her heart did that little skip it always did when she saw him, a reaction she’d been trying to ignore for years. He moved with the easy confidence of someone comfortable in his own skin, his light brown hair slightly mussed from the morning breeze. He always looked more like he lived in Hawaii, opting for board shorts and loose cotton shirts splashed with color, or T-shirts that hung loose around his hips.
“Morning, ladies,” Ace said, sliding into the booth beside Willa with the familiarity of someone who’d been part of their lives for over a decade. “Sorry, I’m late. Had to check the weather for this afternoon’s charter flight.”
“No problem,” Willa said, acutely aware of his presence beside her. “We were just talking about the memorial preparations.”
Ace’s expression grew serious. He’d been Shaun’s best friend since they went through firefighter training in Miami twenty years ago. Ace had been the best man at their wedding and was her kids’ godfather. The loss had hit him almost as hard as it had hit Willa, but he’d channeled his grief into becoming the rock that held her family together during the darkest days.
“Anything I can help with?” Ace asked. “You know I’m happy to coordinate the flyover again this year.”
Every year, Ace organized a tribute flyover with other local pilots, their planes forming a missing man formation over Ember Lake during the ceremony. It was one of the most moving parts of the memorial, and Willa knew how much it meant to him to honor his best friend that way.
“Yes, please. I was going to speak to you about it,” Willa said.
“Actually,” Ace said, his voice taking on a slightly different tone, “I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”
Margo suddenly found something very interesting in her coffee cup, and Willa felt her cheeks warm. There had been moments over the years when she’d wondered if Ace’s devotion to her family went beyond friendship, but he’d never said anything directly. They’d both been careful to maintain the boundaries that kept their relationship safe and uncomplicated.
“What about?” Willa asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
Before Ace could respond, the coffee shop door burst open again, and Detective Rad Dillinger rushed in, looking pale and agitated. He moved quickly to the counter, peeling bills from his pocket with shaking hands, and his face was pale. He had thatlook in his eyes. A look Willa knew well. A look that screamed—there is trouble.
“Is everything alright?” Willa called out. She’d grown fond of the new detective and his son over the past few weeks, impressed by how quickly they’d integrated into the community.
Rad turned toward their booth, his face drawn with worry. “My father’s been in an accident. He’s in critical condition at Jackson Memorial in Miami. I need to get there as soon as possible.”
“Oh my goodness,” Margo gasped. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I need to speak with Chief Morrison first, but then I have to figure out how to get to Miami.” Rad glanced toward the table where Tyler sat with Andy and Becky, his son still oblivious to the crisis unfolding around him. “I have to get myself and Tyler ready…”
