Chrissie picked up Ian two days later at Gretel’s Café. Back in her day, the coffee shop had been known as the Wicked Brew, and had been painted black and filled with moody teenagers.
The teenagers still huddled around a back table—new teenagers, of course—alternating between tapping on their phones and laughing hysterically. But the interior had been completely transformed into a warm and inviting space that reflected the whimsical personality of its owner, Gretel Morrison. Gretel was a blond pixie-ish twenty-something, who wore streaks of purple in her hair and sparkly eyeshadow.
When she’d wandered in for a mocha on her second day in town, Chrissie had clicked with Gretel immediately. She liked Gretel’s fun-loving spirit and the fact that she’d traveled quite a bit before settling in
