Where the tears came from, Ellie didn’t know. One moment she was laughing at the very place she laughed every time she saw the movie, and the next her cheeks were wet with tears.

Chastising herself for being too sentimental, she dried her eyes with a napkin. A minute later, the tears started again. Soon they flowed with such vigor she required a box of tissues.

It didn’t take Ellie long to realize that the movie had triggered the release she’d needed all these weeks. Stopping the flow of tears was impossible, so she gave up trying, sobbing openly now. With a tissue pressed to each eye, she sniffed, then paused, holding her breath, thinking she’d heard a noise unrelated to the movie.

The sound was repeated and Ellie groaned.

The doorbell.

She yearned to ignore it, but anyone who knew her would recognize her car parked out front.

With a reluctant sigh, she walked slowly toward the door. She glanced through the peephole, but whoever was there had moved out of her range of vision.

“Who’s there?” she demanded.

“The big bad wolf.”

Glen.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath, frantically rubbing at the tears on her face. “Go away,” she called out. “I’m not decent.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. He was her friend and a good one but she didn’t want him or anyone else to see her like this.

“Come on, Ellie, open up.”

“Not by the hair of your chinny, chin, chin,” she called back.

“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”

She hesitated, unsure what to do.

“Ellie, for heaven’s sake, grab a towel or whatever and let me in.”

He twisted the knob and she realized he was going to enter with or without her permission. This was what she got for not keeping her front door locked, but it was a habit she’d never developed. No need to in a town like Promise.

“Come on in,” she said, finally opening the door.

“You’re dressed,” he said with some surprise. “I thought you said—” Apparently he noticed her tear-blotched face, because he stopped short.

She squared her shoulders, not knowing what he’d do or say. They’d laughed together, disagreed, teased and joked, but she’d never allowed Glen or anyone else to see her cry.

His hand rested gently on her shoulder. “I thought as much,” he whispered.

It would have been better if he’d made a joke of it, Ellie mused. She might have been able to laugh off her embarrassment if he had.

“It’s the movie,” she said, pointing to the television set behind her. “I...started watching it and...” To her utter humiliation, the tears came back in force.

“Ellie?”

She turned her back to him. “I’m not fit company just now,” she managed.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked from behind.

Did she? Ellie didn’t know. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she couldn’t remember a time she’d felt more alone. Her beloved father was gone and her mother had all but abandoned her. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Her father had been everything to her.

“Ellie?” Glen questioned again.

“You’d better go.”

A long moment passed. Anyone else would have left by now, but Glen hesitated, as though he couldn’t make himself do it. That was when Ellie knew she wanted him to stay.

“Would...would you mind sticking around for a while?” she choked out.

“Of course.” With his arm loosely about her shoulders, he steered her back to the sofa. “Sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.”

She nodded, grateful once again that Glen Patterson was her friend. A good stiff drink was exactly what she needed. Something strong enough to dull the pain.

Within a couple of minutes Glen returned with a tall glass. Ice clinked against the sides when he handed it to her.

She appreciated his tact and understanding and accepted the glass. Tentatively tasting the drink, she tried to remember what she had stored in the liquor cabinet above the refrigerator. Vodka? Gin?

Almost immediately she started to cough and choke.

Glen slapped her hard on the back.

She needed a moment to catch her breath. When she did she glared at him with narrowed eyes. “You brought me ice water?” she cried. The man had no sense of what she was suffering. None whatsoever, or he’d realize that a time like this required liquor.

“What’s wrong with water?” he asked with a look of such genuine innocence that Ellie knew it would do no good to explain.

She dismissed his question with a wave of her hand and gestured for him to sit down.

Glen claimed the empty space next to her on the sofa. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No,” she said, and for emphasis shook her head. “Just watch the movie.”

“All right.” He leaned back and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. With one foot resting on the other knee, he seemed perfectly at ease.

Ellie did her best to focus on the movie, but it was pointless. So was any attempt to hold back the tears that pooled in her eyes, then leaked from the corners, making wet tracks down the sides of her face. At first she tried to blink them away. That didn’t help. Neither did holding her breath or staring up at the ceiling. She drank the glass of water and, when she could disguise the need no longer, made a frantic grab for the box of tissue.

“I thought as much,” Glen said for the second time. He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “It isn’t the movie, is it?”

“What makes you ask that?” she sobbed.

“Because I know you.”

Men always assumed they knew a woman when they didn’t have a clue. And Glen Patterson was as clueless as any man she’d ever known, friend or not.

“As I said earlier, I’m not very good company at the moment.” She blotted her eyes with a fresh tissue. In an effort to distract her thoughts, she showed him the old Bible with the names of family who’d lived and died over a hundred years ago. When she talked about Edward Abraham’s death, the tears began again.

“Hey, if I’d been looking for scintillating company, I would’ve stayed home with Cal,” Glen said, then laughed at his little joke.

They both knew Cal was about as much fun as a rampaging bull these days.

“Come on,” he urged with real tenderness. “Let it all out.”

She swallowed a sob. It would have been better, she thought now, if he hadn’t stayed, after all. But it felt good to lean on someone. So good. Ellie feared that once she lowered her guard and gave way to her emotions, it would be like a river overflowing its banks. All semblance of control would vanish. As close a friend as Glen was, she preferred to shed her tears alone.

“Relax,” he instructed, sounding like the older brother she’d never had. He squeezed her shoulder and rested his chin against her hair. “It’s okay to cry. You have the right.”

“I couldn’t make myself believe it,” she sobbed into his chest. The doctors had explained soon after he was diagnosed that his condition was terminal. No hope.

“Believe what?” Glen asked softly.

“That he was dying. I should have been prepared for it, but I wasn’t.”

“He was your father, Ellie. How could you prepare to lose your father? How could anyone?”

“I—I don’t know.” Her whole body shook; she couldn’t control the tremors.

“Quit being so hard on yourself, okay?”

“I wanted to celebrate his life,” she added. “Not...not act like this.” She felt as though she were walking around with a giant hole inside her. Grief overwhelmed her. She missed him in a thousand different ways. Every minute, every hour, she found reasons to think of him. Everything she said and did reminded her of how close they’d always been. She couldn’t walk into the store without confronting evidence of him—his work, his personality, his plans for the future. If that wasn’t bad enough, every time she looked in the mirror it was his deep blue eyes that stared back.