Abby's grandmother looked up from her knitting. "Oh, Abigail," she said, a proud smile deepening the wrinkles around her age-clouded eyes. "You look lovely."

Abby smiled, feeling a bit awkward.

Ellie stepped forward and handed her the shawl she'd promised.

"You have a wonderful time tonight. My smart, hardworking girl deserves to have some fun," Grammy said with conviction.

Abby nodded. "I will."

She left her family in the living room and went to wait for Chase and Summer-Ann on the porch.

The top step creaked as she sat down. The early summer air was cool, and she wrapped the shawl around her shoulders.

A car passed, but it didn't slow down. What type of car did Chase drive? It was an older make and sporty. Abby didn't know much about these sorts of things.

Another car passed. And another. Then there was quiet. The purplish light of dusk became inkier, and Abby pulled the shawl tighter.

Gradually the night became so dark that Abby could see the bright swirl of stars above her.

It must be cold and lonely up there. She leaned her head against the porch railing, and listened. The night was silent except forthe distant bark of a dog.

She stood. It was cold and lonely down here too.

She went to the front door, quietly opened it and stepped inside. Graduation parties weren't her thing anyway.

Abby opened her eyes. The room was now dark. She sat up and squinted at the clock on her nightstand. It read 10:30. She'd slept longer than she thought. And weariness still weighted her limbs. But the night air was downright freezing.

Throwing back the covers, she hopped from bed and scurried over to the open window. She braced both hands on the sash and started to close it, when movement across the street caught her attention.

She paused, peering at the dim circle of light illuminating the porch of the house across the street.

Thanks to her trip to the Afternoon Delight and the dream she just had, she must have had Chase Jordan on her mind, because she could swear she just saw him go inside Old Miss Strout's house.

She shook her head, pushed down the window with a ratting thud, and hurried back to crawl under the covers.

She knew returning to this town wasn't going to be good for her mental health, but she hadn't expected it to make her hallucinate.

Chapter 3.

"Is there any particular reason we are attempting to drink ourselves senseless? On a Thursday night, no less." Mason Sweet, Chase's closest friend, looked down at the row of empty beer bottles lined up on the floor between their deck chairs.

"Didn't you once tell me the parties back in college started on Thursdays?" Chase said.

Mason chuckled and then polished off the remainder of his beer. He set the bottle neatly beside the others. "Yes, the weekends did definitely start early. But we're not college students. We're a couple guys rushing headlong toward middle age, running the risk of having nasty headaches when the alarm clock goes off in the morning."

Chase cast him a disbelieving look. "Maybe you're rushing toward middle age. I'm just getting to my prime."

"Well, you haven't been married. That's gotta buy you a few extra years, I'll give you that. It definitely proves you're a wiser man than I am."

Chase shook his head and gestured to the bottles. "I really think you need another."

Mason sighed. "After the mention of marriage, I think you're right."

Chase got up and went into the house. Chester raised his head from where he was sprawled on his dog bed like a giant, furry frog. One of Chase's T-shirts was tucked under his front paws as a pillow.

Chase went over and tugged the shirt out from under him. "Gimme that, you big oaf!"

Chester stared up at him with innocent, watery brown eyes and dropped his head back to his paws. Chase scratched the animal's floppy ears and then headed to the kitchen. Tossing the T-shirt in the general vicinity of the laundry room, he headed to the fridge and got two more beers.

He paused for a moment, and then grabbed two more. Now that the subject of marriage had been mentioned, he knew that Mason was going to need a couple more brewskies to drown his sorrows, or rather his bitterness.

Mason had divorced his wife a little over a year ago, which in Chase's opinion was a good move. Maria had been more interested in Mason's career than her actual husband. Mason was the mayor of Millbrook, but Maria had had far bigger aspirations for Mason.

When she discovered that Mason was perfectly satisfied with small-town politics and small-town life, she had left, but not before she took everything they owned except their house, which was as she put it, "the best house that a lowly mayor could buy, and the worst I would ever live in."

Maria was money conscious, but she had no idea what Mason's house could go for now that Chase had done the renovations. A restored sea captain's home right on the ocean. That was worth a pretty penny. When he stepped back onto the porch, he could tell by the set of Mason's jaw that his friend was indeed thinking of his ex.

"Here ya go."

Mason accepted the beer, twisted off the top and took a long swallow.

Chase sat back in his chair, twisted the cap of his own bottle and waited for Mason to speak.

But they both remained silent.

Crickets chirped, the cool spring breeze rustled the trees, and Chase could see the cloudy swirl of the

Milky Way above. It was beautiful. Suddenly, Abby Stepp appeared in his mind. What were the chances that the wordbeautiful should immediately remind him of her? But she did sort of have the type of beauty that was comparable to stars. Classic and eternal. Chase took a long swallow of his beer. Lord, he needed to get laid. He was getting all poetic about a woman he barely knew, and what hedid know shouldn't inspire such nonsense.

"Did I tell you I ran into Abby today?" The words were out before Chase even realized he was going to say them. "Who?" "Abby Stepp." Mason frowned toward the darkened street. "Ellie Stepp has a sister?" Chase shifted toward him, giving him a disbelieving look. "Yes. Abby graduated with us." "Really?" "Yes." Mason looked thoughtful. "I remember Ellie, but I don't recall her sister." Chase looked at him for a moment, in complete amazement, men said, "She was valedictorian." Mason reflected for a moment, and then his eyes widened. "Oh yeah-yeah. I remember her now." Chase shook his head. "Damn, I'm starting to think you should have been labeled our class' bad boy.

You obviously partied more than I did."

Mason grinned. "Nah, you had the corner on that. I just took one too many tackles on the football field. So, how is Aggie?" "Abby." "Oh yeah, yeah, Abby." "She's the same-not like that is going to mean anything to you." Mason took a sip of his beer, then said, "She always sat alone with her nose buried in a book." Chase nodded, his own beer up to his lip. He swallowed and said, "Yup, that's her."

Mason looked a bit proud of himself. "So, she's still unfriendly?"

"Pretty much. I tried to ask her about what brought her back to Millbrook. She answered, but she acted like she'd rather be talking to a toad."

"A woman giving our class' Prettiest Eyes the cold shoulder? That must have been a first."

Chase grunted. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Never," Mason agreed.

"She always thought she was above the people of Millbrook, I think. Abby, that is."

"Yeah, well I've had plenty of experience with women like that, and I can tell you they are a waste of

time." Mason's voice was heavy with resentment.

Chase nodded.

"Does she still wear those giant, ugly glasses and her hair in a knot on the back of her head?" He

gestured toward the back of his own head.

"No."

Apparently something about the way Chase said that single word captured Mason's attention.

"Oh, no, don't tell me you're attracted to her!"

Chase was quiet for a moment, looking out into the darkness. "No, not exactly."

"Well, she has got to be a hell of a lot better looking than she was in high school if she caught your

attention."

"You know, for someone you didn't remember a few moments ago, you seem to recall an awful lot about her," Chase pointed out.

"I remember her now. I just hadn't thought of her in years. Has she been back here since graduation?"

Chase shook his head. "I don't think so."

They were both quiet again.

"So what does she look like? Like Ellie?"

"No," Chase said slowly, trying to figure out how to describe her-in a way that wouldn't reveal he was

indeed attracted to her. Lord, he was attracted to her. "She doesn't wear her hair in a bun anymore, and she doesn't wear glasses either."

"Ah man, you do want to do her," Mason said with certainty.

How did Mason get that out of what he'd said?

Chase sat silent for a second, then said with resignation, "Yeah, I'd do her. But I don't think it's worth contemplating. Like I said, she seemed as interested in me as a toad."

Mason snorted disbelievingly. "I doubt that."

Chase shrugged. "Well, it doesn't matter, because I don't intend to deal with her again. I've long since lost interest in giving chase."

"Is that what you call it?" Mason chuckled.

Chase smirked, then finished off the remainder of his beer.

"Is she staying with Ellie?"

Chase nodded.

Mason reached over and clapped his shoulder. "Well, buddy, good luck 'cause it looks to me like the lady you're planning to ignore is your neighbor."

Both men stared at the black silhouette of the house across the street.

The sun was shining when Abby came downstairsthe next morning. From the smell of fresh coffee that greeted her, she knew Ellie was already up, but she wasn't in the kitchen.

While in the shower, Abby had made a pact with herself. She was going to be in Millbrook for at least four months, and she was going to make the best of her stay. She would enjoy spending time with Ellie and staying in her childhood home. She would learn from and excel in her work, and she would go back to Boston feeling her time had been well spent. After all, she didn't have to see any of her old classmates if she didn't want to. The truth was, she was far, far beyond her school days, and it was silly of her to even worry about the past.

Abby poured herself a cup of the dark coffee and went tothe window. Summer was definitely coming. The brown grass of winter was starting to be peppered with green, and the trees had the beginnings of new leaves budding on their gray limbs.

It would only be a few weeks until Old Miss Strout's lilac bushes would bloom. Miss Strout always had the most gorgeous lilacs. Abby looked over toward her house. The lilac bushes were bigger than ever.

Abby smiled to herself, then the smile slowly faded. But Old Miss Strout's house looked completely different The chipped and faded gray paint that had always covered the clapboards was now replaced by a fresh, crisp white. And the shutters that had always appeared in danger of falling off were on straight and coated with deep forest green. In fact, the whole house looked beautiful. No longer were Old Miss Strout's lilac bushes the only thing attractive about her property.

Of course, it was silly to be surprised that improvements had been made to her house. It had been years since Abby had seen it. Although, she was amazed that Miss Strout could afford to fix the old place up. The spinster had been in much the same situation Abby's grandmother had been, elderly with no expendable income.

She must have come into some money. Some serious money. Even the dilapidated front porch had been jacked up and repaired. It looked great.

"Good morning," Ellie said happily as she entered the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Abby answered absently and then gestured toward the house across the street. "When did Miss Strout fix up her house?"

"She didn't," Ellie said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Don't you remember? Miss Strout died shortly after Grammy. I know I told you."

"You probably did." Abby had been so shaken by the loss of Grammy, and the fact that she hadn't been able to attend the funeral, that nothing else had registered for months afterward.