Page 22 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
She patted me on the back. “I’m so glad you came in.”
“Me too.” We let go and I glanced at Hannah, who had stood and was refilling my coffee cup. “I heard about the breakfast here and couldn’t resist.”
“Oh, you won’t regret it. She’s making champagne waffles this morning.”
I cocked a brow at Hannah. “Champagne, huh?”
She blushed as she set the pitcher down. “They sound fancier than they are.”
“Ready, Han?” Georgia asked. “Waffle irons getting hot. Want to mix up the batter?”
“Yes.” Hannah gave me a smile before heading for the kitchen. “Hope you enjoy your breakfast.”
“I know I will.”
The table filled quickly—with guests, with locals hoping to get in for breakfast, with regulars who talked nonstop about how much they loved coming here since there was no menu. You got what was fresh and available, and that was that.
Pete hadn’t lied, the waffles were akin to a religious experience. Light and fluffy, a little crunchy, a little soft, topped with real blackberries and cream. Several times I found myself closing my eyes just to savor the bite in my mouth. And it wasn’t just the food—being home again felt good. Reconnecting with my roots felt good. Spending time with people from my past felt good. Until my mother called and asked me to please consider coming home and relieving the professional burden on my father, I hadn’t really planned on coming back. But now I realized how much I’d needed this.
I kept glancing at the door to the kitchen, but Hannah never appeared again. Margot brought out the dining room meals alongside another server who worked the front rooms as well. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I wanted today to be perfect, and I was going to do everything I could to make her and Abby feel comfortable, safe, and welcome. I owed it to my brother.
Didn’t I?
Five
HANNAH
“So how did it go last night?” Georgia asked as we worked alongside each other in the inn’s kitchen.
“Good, I guess.” I poured waffle batter into the two irons on the counter and closed the lids. “But it was strange for Abby, I think. She asked me later if I was sure he wasn’t her dad.”
“Awww, that had to be hard.”
“It was,” I admitted. “It felt like telling her Drew was gone all over again.”
“Do you think she understands?” Georgia went to the fridge and took out more eggs.
“Yes.” I sighed. “But I think she also hoped for a different answer.” I lifted the lids to check on the waffles, but they needed about thirty more seconds. “Wes thinks the best way to clear up any confusion is to spend more time with him.”
“He’s probably right.” Georgia dropped a few eggs into the frying pan and stirred her Hollandaise. “Don’t you think?”
“He has me mostly convinced. We’re supposed to go over to his mom’s this afternoon and I tried to get out of it, for Abby’s sake. But he says it would be better to come.”
“I think he’s right,” Georgia said confidently. “You should go. It will be fun for Abby and for you. When’s the last time you spent an afternoon at the beach?”
“I can’t even remember.” Carefully, I took the waffles from the irons, plated them, and added the blackberry compote and crème fraîche. Margot breezed in and scooped up both plates for serving.
“Two minutes on the eggs Benedict,” Georgia told her.
Margot nodded and hustled back out the door.
“So what about you? Georgia asked, pouring sauce on top of the eggs. “Was seeing him as painful as you thought? Did you have a seismic emotional meltdown?”
“No. More like a mini emotional quake. But we handled it. Actually, it sort of helped to talk to him. I felt like he understood.” And then I pretended he was Drew while he rubbed my back.
“See? This could be a healing relationship for both of you.”
“Maybe.”
