Christmas lights when he asked her yesterday if she wanted to go to the beach later. Had it only been a couple of days ago that his daughter had been a walking riddle he was sure he’d never solve?
Not that he had her all figured out. After all, she was wearing what could only be described as “mom jean shorts,” pleated with a high waist that made her backside look a mile long.
Harper had told her how adorable she looked, so Hollis stayed quiet, but the style made no sense to him. He was choosing his battles, and jeans weren’t something to argue over. Even if she did look like his mother circa 1981.
He passed through Emily’s kitchen and into the living room, which had been emptied of its furniture and was being prepped to have floors sanded and refinished, but he saw no sign of Jack.
Winston “Winny” Peel, one of the workers Jack had hired, walked into the room from the opposite direction.
“Have you seen Jack?” Hollis asked.
“Not lately,” Winny said. “Think he was going to do some work upstairs today.”
As far as Hollis knew, Jack hadn’t assigned anyone else to work upstairs, which was strange because with a couple other guys, they could knock out the bedrooms pretty quickly.
“Did you see this?” Winny stood in front of the fireplace, staring at what appeared to be a collection of keys on the mantel.
“See what?”
Hollis followed Winny’s eyes to the keys, but he didn’t see the significance.
“What are they?”
“She collects a key from every place she lives,” Winny said. “She’s been everywhere.”
Hollis picked up one of the keys. On the back of it, someone had written the word Brazil. “Each key is a different place?”
Winny nodded. “Lots of different countries too. Australia. Spain. Austria. France. Kenya. Costa Rica. Canada. Your girl has seen the world.”
Your girl.
He wished.
He picked up another key and studied it. It had been painted turquoise with red polka dots and she’d written Thailand on it in white paint.
He wished he’d seen half of these places with her. From the looks of it, she’d traveled all over, like a vagabond—all wings and no roots. It was odd. He’d never thought of Emily as sentimental. If he had to guess, she didn’t see herself that way either, but obviously there was some part of her that was looking for something to hold on to. Otherwise, why would she keep these keys as mementos?
Once the house sold, would its key become just another one in her collection? Would she remember it as just another place she’d visited?
“She’s pretty amazing,” Winny said. “She was telling some of us about this one time she was surfing off the Maldives and the surf turned her upside down. Said she got cracked on the head by her board and went unconscious. She still doesn’t know what righted her or how she didn’t die. I told her it was probably the Big Guy looking out for her. She didn’t like that idea so much.”
“Well, you’re probably right, Winny,” Hollis said, trying not to think about Emily nearly drowning off the coast of some tiny island in the Indian Ocean.
“You gonna make a move on her or what?”
Hollis waved him off. “She’s an old friend, Win.”
“You can’t be friends with a woman like that.”
“That right?”
“But if you can get her to fall in love with you . . .” He whistled. “That’s a recipe for a happy life.” Winston laughed then, a big laugh that crackled and turned into a cough thanks to too many years of smoking cigarettes.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Hollis walked out of the living room and into the entryway. On the front table, he spotted the same book that had been on Emily’s lap the day he’d found her sleeping on the patio.
This is none of your business.
He thought these words at the very same moment he picked up the book and read the painted words on the front cover.
If for Any Reason
He should put it away. Here he was, worried about Jack’s crew having too much access to Emily’s privacy, but so far, he was the only one invading it.
This didn’t stop him from opening the cover and scanning the first page.
A letter written to Emily in penmanship that could only belong to a woman. His eyes drifted to the bottom of the page, where the words Love, Mom were written. Hollis closed the book.
Her mom had written her letters?
He carefully put the book back on the table and