Melinda swept ceramic shards into her dustpan—at least the ones she could find. What used to be a plate lay scattered across the tile floor, but she knew from experience that she'd be finding small pieces for days to come. She'd seriously considered switching to using plastic plates in the diner, but then had been reprimanded by her mother about the environmental impact.

"France has banned plastic in their restaurants completely. We could learn a thing or two from them," her mother had said.

Melinda had conceded and was now suffering for it. Even though her parents technically owned the diner, she'd been running it for the past nine years, and they hadn't even set foot there in the last four years. She figured that should be enough for her to have a say in the matter, but apparently it wasn't.

"Here, let me finish that up for you," Daniel said, taking the broom from Melinda. His dirty blond hair fell over his eyes, and he used the back of his hand to push it back into place.

She heaved a sigh of relief. Today had not been a good one, and she could use a little help. Except, what she needed was more employees, not her best friend working for free. "You're a customer. You shouldn't be doing this," Melinda said, waving a hand toward Daniel's food that sat untouched in his booth.

"Yes, well, you've been working double shifts all week because yet another high school kid decided to quit without notice, and I doubt you're getting paid overtime."

Melinda slumped onto one of the stools at the counter. It was true, and she was exhausted. She could only afford to hire one part-time server, which worked out fine as long as no one ever got sick—or quit. She groaned when she saw a customer's hand shoot up.

Bob. He worked with Daniel in the HR department at Town Hall and had to have everything just right. He'd already sent his eggs back twice. First, they were too runny, then they were too firm.

Melinda rotated her ankles while stretching her legs, then walked over to see what he needed. "What's up, Bobby?"

Bob's jaw clenched. "As I've told you every day since I began to frequent your establishment, don't call me that. My name is Bob. Not Bobby, or any of the other creative variations you've come up with over the years. Just plain Bob."

"What's wrong with your eggs now?" Melinda asked, not bothering to hide her impatience. Only two hours left, and she could flip the 'closed' sign.

Bob looked down at his plate. "Eggs?" He seemed surprised, like he had forgotten all about them. "Oh no, the eggs are just fine. And it only took you three tries this time."

"So…why did you call me over here?"

"It's the water you gave me," Bob said. "I specifically asked for my cup to be filled with half ice and half water. Except, as you can see clearly here, there is so much ice that every time I go to take a drink, it all slides forward and hits me in the lip."

Melinda threw a straw on the table. "Here you go. Problem solved."

Bob stared at the straw in front of him. "Okay, I see there has been a miscommunication. I don't use straws. I find them terribly uncivilized. Not only that, but they are made from plastic. Do you realize what a waste that is, using something that is so harmful to our planet, when we have our God-given lips that do the same job? Plastic is going to be our downfall, you know. In fact, France recently outlawed—"

Oh, great, another version of her mother. Melinda spun on her heel and walked back toward Daniel, who was putting the broom away behind the counter.

"Wait, you forgot my water," Bob called to her. "Remember to not put too much ice in the next one."

"Wait for it to melt," Melinda called back.

Daniel chuckled, and she frowned.

"What's so funny?"

"You know, it's amazing how well you've done with this diner, considering you have the worst customer service in the whole state of New Mexico."

Melinda knew the diner didn't have a great reputation. She had stopped trying to hide her impatience for waiting on people day after day. But the terrible food wasn't her fault, and it wasn't the fault of her two cooks, Devon and Claire. They had begged to put their own signature touch on it, but Melinda's mother had forbidden her to alter or discard any of the recipes. “They have been in the family for decades,” her mother had told her. “Changing them would be like a slap in the face to all the generations who came before us.”

Melinda sighed. "Unfortunately, there isn't much competition in Amor; otherwise, I'd be driven out of business. You'd think people would learn to stop coming here, but alas…" She looked toward the dining area. It was well after the dinner rush, and there were still many occupied booths.

Daniel leaned on the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. "Isn't that a good thing? Most people like their business to be successful.”

"Yeah, well, they probably like what they do," Melinda said. "It was probably their choice to operate their business, unlike me."

Daniel's smile faded. "Be grateful that you were given the opportunity. Not everyone gets their own business handed to them on a platter—they have to work and save to have what you do."

Melinda rolled her eyes. She couldn't stand when Daniel turned all preachy on her. And yet, he was one of the few friends she had managed to keep, so she tried to keep the sarcasm down, at least by her standards.

She pointed to a booth on the far side, where Bev and Katie sat having lunch, Katie’s new baby sleeping in a carrier next to her on the bench. "What, like those two?" she asked. "Katie was a criminal, yet she managed to waltz into town and marry the mayor. Bev was destitute, and she now runs her own business—one that was handed to her."

Daniel’s eyes darkened, and Melinda realized what a stupid thing that was to say. Daniel had been friends with Katie before they came to Amor—and had been a criminal, like her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He held up a hand, stopping her. The storm in his eyes lifted and he said, his voice quiet, "Bev runs a nonprofit organization that helps the homeless. You’re going to fault her for that?”

"Of course not. But do you see my point?" Melinda raked her fingers through her long dark hair. "My parents thought this would be good for me, their misguided daughter who needed direction in her life. I had plans, you know. And they didn't include this."

A phone rang on the counter, but Melinda ignored it. She could feel the tears that wanted to escape, and she was afraid that if she had to talk to whoever was on the other end of that phone, she wouldn't be able to stop the tears from coming.

Daniel glanced pointedly at the phone, but she ignored him too, until the ringing finally stopped. Then Melinda's cell phone ringtone erupted from her purse. Whoever was trying to get ahold of her must really want to talk.

She dug her phone out of her purse. Her mother. Of course. Calling to check up on her, no doubt. Melinda was really not in the mood to talk, but she knew it would be far worse to wait. She relented and answered the call. "Hi, Mom," she said.

"Honey, I tried calling the diner, but no one answered. I could have been a potential customer," her mother chided.

Melinda pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know, Mom, but I'm short-staffed tonight and I've been pretty busy. I can't always get the phone right away."

"I thought you had several employees."

"I do, but Devon and Claire work in the kitchen and my server quit last week. I'm working on finding a new one."

Bob's hand shot up from his booth, and Melinda threw Daniel a pleading look.

He smiled and shook his head. "I'll take care of it," he said, then ambled off to help with whatever it was Bob needed. Hopefully his check.

"Who was that?" Melinda's mom asked.

"A friend who is helping me out with the evening rush," she said. "I really should get going, though. You wouldn't want me to disappoint any of my customers because I was on a personal call."

"I suppose you're right. I just wanted to make sure that you are planning on arriving at the resort by Wednesday, at the latest."

"Wednesday?"

Her mother heaved a dramatic sigh. "For your sister's wedding? You do remember that you have a younger sister, don't you?"

How could she forget, considering her mother never stopped talking about how wonderful Bree was, and how much she had been able to accomplish, “all by the age of twenty-five.” But Bree hadn't been stuck with the diner. She had been able to go to college on a full-ride scholarship. If Melinda had had that opportunity, she would have been able to conquer the world too.

"Yes, I remember Bree's upcoming nuptials," Melinda said. She turned from the phone and mouthed thank you to Daniel as Bob walked out of the diner. One down, only a few more to go. "But the wedding isn't until Saturday."

"Don't you ever listen? Her maid of honor is throwing a bachelorette party for Bree on Thursday and the rehearsal dinner is Friday night, which means that you need to be there Wednesday."

"Mom," Melinda said, already at her wits’ end, "I can't leave the diner for that long. I've told you, I'm the only server right now."

"Then you better hire someone before you leave, or you'll have a lot of disgruntled customers," her mother said. "Oh, and one more thing before I let you get back to work. Would you like me to call your date to make sure he has the details, or can you manage it on your own?"

Melinda stopped cold. "I'm not bringing a date."

"Of course you are, my dear. How would it look if the bride's older sister showed up without a date?"

"No one would notice. It's Bree they’ll be there for, so why does it matter?"

Claire placed a plate of chicken fried steak out on the warming table, but when she saw Melinda on the phone, Claire tossed her a look of sympathy and took it out to the customer herself.

"It matters because you represent the family," her mother said.

"And not having a date labels me as unfit somehow?" Melinda said, her voice rising. "You can handle me being the disappointment of the family, just not in public, is that it?"

Katie's baby started crying in her carrier, which earned Melinda some annoyed glances. She must have woken the baby up.

"I'm not having this conversation with you," her mother said. "You know that we love you and Bree equally, and we are proud of what you've done with the diner."

"Is that why you always call and tell me what I'm doing wrong? Because you're proud of me?" Melinda said. "I'll see you Wednesday." She hung up the phone before her mother could get in another word. Melinda's breath came out fast and shallow, and it took a moment to regain her composure. Talking to her mother always did that to her.

Katie’s baby was still crying and Katie was bouncing her on her knee, trying to help her calm down.

Melinda dug in her purse until she found a sucker and walked over to their booth. “Sorry I woke her up,” she said, hoping that the baby was a girl. Melinda couldn’t remember and couldn’t tell from its gender-neutral clothing. She needed to pay more attention to those kinds of things. “Do you think she’d like this to suck on?” She held out the sucker, like a peace offering.

Katie’s mouth formed a surprised O. “That’s very sweet of you, but we’re trying not to give Liv any sweet stuff until she’s a little older. Thank you, though.”

Of course babies didn’t eat candy. Melinda should have known that. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

"That conversation with your mom went well," Claire said, walking past Melinda and into the back with a tub full of dirty dishes.

Melinda followed. "So, you heard, huh?"

"The whole diner heard," Claire said with a smile. The crow's feet around her eyes wrinkled in amusement. She put the dishes in the industrial-sized sink.

"I just—I don't want to go to Bree's wedding. I haven't talked to my sister in years, so it's not like she'll miss me. Not only that, but I would have to close the diner for five days—we barely have enough people to keep the place running even when I'm here."

"But it's family we're talking about," Claire said. "It would be good for you to be there, don't you think?"

"Why? My mom already thinks of me as a failure. This will just confirm her suspicions." Melinda released a heavy breath. "She expects me to show up with a date. I doubt she'd care if I hired one as long as it made the family look good."

Claire tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear. "If you don't want to go with a date, don't. But don't worry about the diner. I have a niece that could step in for a few days. Not permanently, mind you, but I think she'd like a little extra spending money." She paused. "Family is important, even if you aren't thrilled with the one you got. Your sister needs your support."

Melinda sank onto a stool and offered Claire a weak smile. "Why couldn't you have been my mom?"

"That would have been lovely," Claire said. “But you already have the family that you need—and that needs you.”

Devon walked out of the walk-in freezer and laughed. "Besides, you wouldn't have liked Claire as much as you do now. When it comes to raising children, she's as strict as they come."

Claire pinched Devon's side and gave him a quick kiss. "And our kids are now responsible, independent, and successful. They thank me for it too."

Daniel stuck his head in the back. "I don't mind refilling water and all that, but I was going to sit down and eat now, if you have everything under control."

Melinda's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Daniel. I got distracted."

"Do we have any new orders?" Claire asked him.

"No, things are quieting down now," Daniel said. He studied Melinda, like he wanted to say something, but then ducked back out.

"So, what are you going to do?" Claire asked as Melinda stood to leave.

"I'm going to show my mother she can't push me into things I don't want to do," Melinda said.

"Things haven't changed much between you two in the last decade, have they?" Devon said with a chuckle.

Melinda stopped. Was she really the same exact person she’d been as a teenager? Had she really just wasted the last ten years? She threw a final backward glance at Devon and Claire. "I guess not."