The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(65)

He strode over to the door. “You’ll find something else to put on that wall.” He opened the door and left.

“Why did he walk out?” Georgia asked, her words tender, clearly affected by the exchange he and Hannah had just had.

“I thought if he just got in here…” She gazed up at the blank wall. “Let’s make a list of the other things we need done, and then we’ll get started on those,” she said. “I’ll work on Ethan.”

Hannah’s phone suddenly went off in her pocket with a message from Liam asking, What are you doing tonight?

She texted back, Georgia is here with me. She’s staying at Gran’s. We were planning to work at Gran’s shop. Why?

I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with my mother, Noah, and me—my treat. You could bring Georgia with you. Would you all be free tonight?

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Hannah said.

“What is it?”

“Are we free to go to dinner with Liam?” Hannah asked, glad for the distraction after what had just transpired with Ethan.

Georgia had moved over to the back door and was letting Jerry out on a leash. “Of course,” she said. “That’s really kind of him.”

“I’ll text him that we can, then. It’ll be nice to meet his mother and see Noah again.” Her fingers were already moving on her phone screen.

“He’ll meet us downtown at six,” she said, reading his response when it came in, “so I suppose we should get home and get cleaned up. We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

They gathered up their things and turned off the lights. As Hannah shut the door, that blank wall glared at her. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do,” she said, thinking about Ethan.

“It’ll all work out,” Georgia said.

“I hope you’re right.” Hannah locked the door behind them.



Mary McGuire was a tiny thing, shuffling across the street next to Liam in navy-blue flats coordinated with her tailored belted coat, while she held Noah’s hand.

“So you’re the casserole maker,” she said when she’d reached Hannah at the door to the corner restaurant.

Noah wrapped his arms around Hannah’s legs and gave her a squeeze.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, the little boy instantly lightening her mood. “Yes, that’s me,” she answered Mary. “And this is Georgia.”

“Lovely to meet you, Georgia,” Mary said.

Liam held the door to let them all in, the lamplight and candles giving the whole place a warm, cozy glow against a backdrop of black-and-white photos of town residents through the years that peppered the walls. He gave his name to the hostess, who walked them over to their table.

Mary turned her focus to Hannah, fondness showing in her expression. “Hannah, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Liam has told me so much about you.”

“He has?” Hannah asked, interested.

Liam pulled out Hannah’s chair and she took a seat. “Actually, Noah has,” Liam said. “He was very excited to see you tonight.”

“I want to sit here,” Noah said, pointing to the chair between Hannah and Georgia.

Hannah scooted it away from the table to allow Noah to climb onto it.

The waitress put a child’s paper menu with a pack of crayons in front of Noah and took their drink orders.

“Why don’t we all share a bottle of wine?” Mary suggested. “I’m feeling festive. It’s so lovely to be out with family and friends.”

“Of course, Mom. What are you thinking—red or white?”

“What would you ladies prefer?”

Hannah and Georgia both shook their heads politely, sending the choice back over to Mary.

“I’m fine with either,” Hannah told her. “What’s your favorite?”

“We should have Mickey’s red then, and our little guy will have milk,” Mary said to the waitress, who hurried off to fill their orders.

“Mickey’s?” Hannah asked, having not heard of that wine before.

Noah pushed his menu closer to Hannah and handed her a crayon. Then he wrote an X in the center of the tic-tac-toe board printed on it. Hannah marked her O.

“Mickey Jones has a very exclusive private winery down the road from our farm,” Mary explained. “No one knows this, but he drops off only a couple of bottles here every day, and if you know to ask for it, they serve it, but for everyone else it’s off-menu.”

“I feel like James Bond,” Georgia said with a sparkle in her eye, making Mary chuckle.

“So I’ve heard about Hannah and how she’s here to visit her grandmother. Georgia, what brings you into town?” Mary asked.

The waitress returned from the bar nearby with a bottle, offering a taste for Mary before pouring them each a glass. Hannah took a sip of the deliciously fruity and aromatic wine.

“I’m here to find my parents,” Georgia said.

Mary looked on, captivated. “Oh?”

“I was adopted, and the agency can’t give me anything to go on, but I have a couple of photos.”

“Oh wow,” Mary said, leaning forward on her forearm and taking a sip of her wine with her other hand, enthralled.

“Yes, but no names, sadly. My dad dropped the photos off, apparently. He and my mother had signed a document statin’ that I couldn’t find out who my parents were, but a few years later, he came back to the agency and slipped the photos to the woman at the front desk, tellin’ her to give ’em to me if I ever came looking. I suppose I was just hopin’ he’d had a change of heart.” She grabbed her handbag and rummaged around in it. “Would you like to see the photos?” She handed them over to Mary.