“Your mom? Yeah, she’s right there, with Rick.”
The two lovebirds had arrived earlier that day. They’d checked into a bed-and-breakfast and, having been instantly charmed with Nantucket, decided to turn their weekend into a week.
Apparently the honeymoon wasn’t over. Hollis cringed a little at the thought.
“Not Mom,” Jolie said. “Emily.”
Hollis stepped back. “JoJo, you know she’s gone. You saw her leave.”
“Yeah,” Jolie said, letting the curtain fall closed. “But she won’t let us go on without her, right?”
Hollis wished it were true. What he wouldn’t give for the chance to make things right with Emily. They’d left things so undone.
“Plus I gave her your letter.”
“You what?” Hollis spun toward her.
“The one you left on your dresser,” Jolie said.
“Did you read it?”
“Who do you think I am?” Jolie asked. “Of course not.”
“Jolie, that was private,” Hollis said. “If I’d wanted her to read it, I would’ve given it to her myself.”
“But you did want her to read it, Dad. Otherwise you wouldn’t have written it.” Jolie glanced at the table next to him. “And you think she’s coming too. Otherwise you wouldn’t have bought two bouquets of flowers.”
Hollis followed her gaze to the table, where, sure enough, there were two bouquets wrapped in brown paper. This kid was too smart for her own good.
“You weren’t supposed to see that until after the show.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jolie said. “You’re not very good at keeping secrets.”
He wished that were true. Maybe if he’d been straight with Emily about who Jack was as soon as he found out, things would be different now.
But that’s not why they’d argued. She wasn’t mad he didn’t tell her the truth; she was mad he’d defended her father. Why had he done that? Because he was worried he was just like Jack?
It was selfish. It wasn’t what she needed, and he knew it.
At least he knew it now.
“You need to go get ready,” Hollis said. “I think Marisol is going to want the cast together for a preshow pep talk.”
“I don’t care about a pep talk unless it comes from Emily.”
“Jolie, don’t be like that,” Hollis said. “Be respectful. And go be with your cast.”
She pouted. “Fine. Are you going to your seat now?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ll be right in the front. You won’t be able to miss me or your crazy family.”
A slow grin spread across her face.
He might’ve lost Emily, but at least JoJo had forgiven him. Oh, she’d given him the silent treatment for a full twenty-four hours, but she’d eventually forgiven him.
“I know it wasn’t all your fault that Emily left,” she’d said. “And I know that you love her, so you’re sad too.”
Hollis hadn’t been able to respond. The lump in his throat was too big to swallow.
He was sad.
But as the seconds ticked by and the time to raise the curtain drew closer, he’d all but lost hope.
Emily was gone. Just like when they were kids.
And this time, he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.
Emily stared at the building where she’d spent so many hours preparing for her production of Alice in Wonderland.
She’d tucked the letter she wrote to her mother into the back of the book with all the other letters and then put the whole thing in the bottom of her suitcase. She didn’t have it with her now. She was on her own.
And she wasn’t so sure she could follow through with her plan to walk in that door.
She’d abandoned Jolie and the rest of the cast when they needed her most. How could she have done that?
And would they ever forgive her?
Before she lost her nerve, she walked into the back of the theatre and found herself in the scene shop in the middle of a flurry of activity. At the sound of the door, everything in motion stopped and pairs of eyes turned her way.
Marisol was standing on a poorly built wooden box, the entire cast in a semicircle around her.
“Emily, thank goodness,” Marisol said, hopping down. The girl hugged Emily tightly. “I knew you’d be back,” she whispered. “Your cast is ready for their opening night chat.”
Emily pulled away and looked at all the kids, fully dressed in their costumes with their hair and makeup done just the way Emily had instructed. Seeing them made her want to cry.
She might’ve missed a crucial rehearsal, but the work had been almost done before she left. Marisol likely had a few fires to put out, but most of the hard stuff had been finished.
It didn’t excuse her leaving, however. That