Just then, the owner of the coffee cart comes over with my fresh coffee. Her name tag reads “Tessa.”
“Dot,” Tessa says, her tone playful but firm. “Stop disturbing my customers. You’re scaring people away.”
“She’s not disturbing me,” I say, taking the coffee from Tessa.
The woman beams at me, then turns back to me. “I’m Dorothy,” she says, extending a hand. “But everyone calls me Dot.”
Dot. Dorothy McClain. And just like that, it clicks. The church charity drives, the bake sales, the way she used to hand out peppermints to all the kids after Sunday service. I remember her now, younger, with her husband, a quiet Beta rancher with kind eyes.
“I remember you,” I say, shaking her hand. “From the church. You used to run the charity drives.”
Dot’s face lights up. “That’s me! Good to know I haven’t changed that much.” She sobers slightly, her gaze softening. “I was so sorry to hear about your grandfather. And your parents, of course. Such a tragedy.”
“Thank you,” I say, the words feeling inadequate. “How have you been? How is Mr. McClain?”
A shadow passes over Dot’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “He passed, sweetheart. Six years ago now. Cancer.”
“Oh,” I say, my heart clenching. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” she says, waving a dismissive hand. “We had a good long life together. Can’t complain about that.”
I look up and see another elderly woman walking toward us. This one is a vision in rhinestones and bright pink, her hair perfectly coiffed, her lips painted a matching shade of red.
“Pearl!” Dot shouts, her face breaking into a wide grin. “Hey, my darling!”
Pearl glides across the patio, her movements graceful despite her age. She walks right up to Dot and kisses her soundly on the cheek. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” she says. “You left without saying goodbye.”
Dot closes her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips as Pearl’s lips brush her cheek again. The gesture is so intimate, so full of unspoken history, that I almost feel like I’m intruding on a private moment.
Pearl turns to me then, her hand outstretched, her rings—chunky turquoise and silver—catching the sunlight. “Pearl Ann Rodriguez,” she says, her voice a husky purr that seems out of place in the bright afternoon.
“Saramaria,” I say, taking her hand. Her grip is surprisingly firm.
Dot is practically vibrating with excitement, shaking Pearl’s hand like she’s just won the lottery. “Pearl, this is Angelina and Henry’s daughter... from Meadowlark!”
Pearl’s eyes, a warm, intelligent brown, light up with recognition. “No! Little Saramaria? My goodness, look at you! You’re all grown up.”
“I remember you. You were part of the rodeo weren’t you?” I ask.
She smirks, a playful, knowing expression, and leans in to kiss Dot’s forehead again. “It has been a long time since then, hasn’t it, darling?”
“We should sit,” Dot says, gesturing to the table I’d just vacated. “Join us, dear.”
We do. I slide back into my chair, and Pearl takes the one next to me, while Dot settles back in her original spot. Tessa, the owner, appears at our table almost instantly. “What can I get for you, Pearl? The usual?”
“Two iced lattes to go, please, Tess,” Pearl says, her eyes never leaving me. “But we’ll sit for a bit.”
As Tessa walks away, I find myself studying them. The way Pearl’s arm rests along the back of Dot’s chair. The way Dot leans into her touch, a subtle, unconscious movement. It’s a comfortable, easy intimacy—so different from the careful, calculated distance Richard and I maintained in the last months of our relationship.
“I had no idea you were back in town,” Pearl says, breaking the silence. “The last I heard, you were off conquering the world.”
“I just got here today,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intended.
She nods, her expression genuinely curious. “So tell us everything. How have you been? Where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been... okay,” I say, choosing my words with the care of a lawyer cross-examining a hostile witness. “I live up in Denver now. I’m a lawyer.”
“Denver!” Dot beams, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to Denver in the winter. All that snow, the city lights sparkling... Pearl and I were just saying we should take a trip, have a picnic in one of those big parks.”
