If for Any Reason

by Courtney Walsh

  “I don’t want to get in the way.” She cleared her throat. “Can I have a glass of water?”

  “Oh yeah, of course.” He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it out to her, but before he let go of it, he forced her gaze. “And you could never be in the way.”

  She looked down, taking the bottle from him and turning a sweet shade of pink. He reminded himself that Emily wasn’t like the girls who followed the team around or the ones he met in bars after games. He’d tired of women like that a long time ago, but he’d always known how to win them over. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall into that same pattern and he had a feeling Emily Ackerman would call him out on it quicker than an unexpected fastball.

  Friends. That’s what they would be. It was the smartest thing for everyone.

  Besides, Emily might not have kids, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with someone—or even married.

  He glanced at her bare left hand.

  Or maybe not.

  The front door flung open and Tilly barked. Hayes walked in carrying two duffel bags, which he dropped in the entryway to give the dog his full attention.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Emily said quietly. “Is that Hayes?”

  “He’s never going to believe it’s you.” Hollis walked over to his brother, who people used to think was his twin. Nobody would make that mistake now. Hayes’s once-blond hair had darkened and he was a few inches shorter than Hollis, though a little sturdier these days. Hollis made a mental note to get back to the gym. His baseball career might be over, but that didn’t mean he should let himself go.

  “Big Bro,” Hayes said, pulling Hollis into one of those friendly guy hugs. “Am I the first one here?”

  “Well, you and JoJo,” Hollis said. “And Tilly.”

  Hayes looked past Hollis and into the kitchen, where Emily sat, watching them. She looked like she might burst.

  “Who’s the looker?” Hayes asked quietly.

  Hollis took a few steps toward the kitchen. “Hayes, you remember Emily from next door,” he said.

  Hayes’s eyes widened. “Emily?”

  Emily stood as Hayes moved toward her, his arms open. He pulled her into a giant bear hug and Hollis thought it was strange that Emily, someone they’d known so well all those years ago, didn’t know Hayes had become famously kind and philanthropic. She didn’t know Harper had turned into an elite runner. She didn’t know anything about any of them, and they didn’t know anything about her.

  He could still remember chasing her car all the way to the end of her driveway the day her grandparents took her away. When he found out about the accident, he’d gone to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let him in. They said he was too young and he wasn’t family.

  But he was family, wasn’t he? At least he felt like family. Emily had always felt like family.

  And somehow he wondered if things would ever feel that way again.

  “Hayes, I cannot believe this is you.” Emily pulled out of his hug and looked him over. “An actual grown-up.”

  “Believe it, young lady.” Hayes was still holding on to her hands. Hollis was keenly aware of it. “What are you doing back here? Haven’t seen you in years.”

  “It’s been too long,” she said.

  Hayes finally (finally!) let go of her hands and moved around the kitchen island to the bowl of grapes sitting on the counter. He popped one in his mouth and smiled. “You look incredible, by the way.”

  Hayes was such a flirt. Hollis actually envied his brother—the way he interacted with people so easily. It wasn’t a trait they shared. Hollis had a much different way of charming people.

  “Thanks, Hayes.” She smiled.

  “You staying next door?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Place is looking kinda rough. We can help you whip it into shape.”

  Emily glanced at Hollis. “I think it’s a bigger job than that. I’m going to have to hire someone.”

  “Well, we’re offering our services,” Hayes said. “If you change your mind.”

  Hollis nodded dumbly, like he couldn’t find the words to be kind.

  “Thanks.” She spoke the word quietly, and in a flash he could see there was a whole world behind her eyes—pain and hurt and anger and so much more that he wanted to know.

  Jolie descended from upstairs as the front door opened again and Hollis’s parents walked in. Dressed in lightweight white linen pants and a pink button-down shirt, his mom looked like someone who belonged on Nantucket. His dad wore a pair of plaid shorts and a yellow polo shirt. A sun visor wrapped around his balding head.

  “JoJo!”

  Jolie walked straight into his mother’s arms, like there was a Jolie-shaped hole there. Hollis hoped his wince went unnoticed. Sometimes it was still hard to watch everyone else getting along so easily with his daughter when he seemed to struggle for even the slightest connection.

  He glanced at Emily and found her gaze had drifted over to him. Had she seen the shame behind his eyes?

  “Hey, GrandNan,” Jolie said with a smile.

  Hollis’s dad propped their suitcases next to Hayes’s bags and opened his arms toward his only granddaughter. “Good to see you, kiddo. I hope you’re ready for a Nantucket summer.”

  Jolie pulled away. “There’s no Wi-Fi in this house.”

  Dad’s gasp was purposely over-the-top. “Hollis, how could you bring her out here under these conditions?”

  Jolie’s eyes brightened. Poor kid didn’t catch his father’s sarcasm. “Does that mean we can get it?”

  Dad tweaked her nose. “Not on your life.”

  Jolie huffed away and Mom swooped in to console her. “You’re going to be so busy, you’re not going to need Wi-Fi, JoJo. We’ll have picnics on the beach and we’ll bake cookies and go swimming and—”

  “Fishing and sailing and yeah, yeah, yeah. Dad told me all that.” Jolie harrumphed onto the sofa in the living room and Tilly hopped up next to her.

  “Tilly.” Dad’s tone was stern. “Get off that sofa!”

  Tilly’s ears perked up and she cocked her head to one side, looking at Dad like she didn’t understand. Hollis knew full well his dog understood.

  “Oh, fine, just stay there, you big mutt.” Dad rubbed her ears, then turned toward the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”

  “Oh, how rude of us,” Mom said, making her way toward the rest of them. “I didn’t know you had a guest. Hayes, is this a friend of yours?”

  “It’s Emily, Mom,” Hollis said, noticing how Emily’s ears matched her bright-red cheeks. “Emily Ackerman.”

  Both of his parents now wore a dumbfounded expression that didn’t become either one of them.

  “Emily.” The word escaped from his mother as a whisper, as if it had slipped out without her permission. It was like being catapulted through time, he supposed. He’d had a similar reaction when he’d first seen her.

  In fact, he still wasn’t sure he’d recovered.

  “Emily!” Dad walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug, so tight, in fact, Hollis was concerned he might crush her.

  Then he took a step back and looked her straight in the eye. “You are absolutely gorgeous, young lady, and you’re the spitting image of your mom.”

  Emily’s face fell, but she uttered a quiet “Thank you.” Dad mistook her response for shyness and barreled on. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again. What brings you back to the island?”

  Emily shifted. Hollis wished he could take her out back for a deep cleansing breath and maybe a shot of whiskey, though he had a feeling she wasn’t a whiskey kind of girl. Still, she needed something to take the edge off, he could tell.

  “My grandfather passed away,” she said.

  The room hushed. Hollis hadn’t heard. He remembered Alan and Eliza Ackerman as the king and queen of Nantucket. When their daughter died, the whole island was in shock. Suddenly everyone was on edge. If something so terrible could happen to the
Ackerman family, it could happen to anyone. Even the wealthiest and most prominent members of society weren’t exempt.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Dad said. “He was a good man.”

  Hollis thought that was mostly true, but he also thought Emily’s grandfather was a jerk for taking her away the way he did.

  “Are you back for the summer?” Mom asked.

  “He left me the house,” Emily said.

  “Whoa.” Hayes popped another grape in his mouth. “That house is on prime real estate. You could make a fortune.”

  Emily met Hollis’s eyes. Even after all this time, he knew she didn’t want to make a fortune on that old house. She wanted something she could never have—she wanted things to go back to the way they’d been before that terrible night.

  He knew how that felt. He’d spent the whole last year wishing for things to be different. But time was funny that way. It marched on whether you wanted it to or not.

  “Are you going to sell it?” Hayes had their father’s boisterous personality. He asked whatever question came to mind whether it was his business or not.

  “Definitely,” Emily said. “But it needs a ton of work.”

  Definitely? Why was she so matter-of-fact? Had she considered that she could keep it? Spend her summers here like old times?

  “How’s the inside look?” Hollis asked.

  She looked away. “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t been inside?” Hayes stopped chewing.

  “Not yet.” Her smile looked weak. “I ran into Jolie and Hollis on the beach just a few minutes after I got here, and then Hollis invited me over, so I haven’t gone in yet.”

  An awkward silence fell on the room.

  “Can we eat?” Jolie called out from her spot on the sofa.

  Hollis’s gaze lingered on Emily for a few long seconds, and while he wasn’t satisfied that she was okay, he knew it wasn’t a conversation they could have now, in front of everyone else. Not that he’d know how to have that conversation even if they were the only two people in the room.

  “I’ll get the burgers going,” he called out, finally breaking eye contact with her.

  “All right.” Mom moved to the other side of the island and washed her hands. “Let’s get to work. Emily, you can help me cut the vegetables and tell me all your latest news. We’ve seen you on a few television shows over the years, and of course there’s all those reruns of Dottie’s World. Do people still recognize you from that?”

  Hollis stole a glimpse of their guest, whose blush softened into that same sweet smile he remembered from all those years ago, though there was something different about her now.

  It was funny how you could miss something so much and not know you missed it until it was back in your life again.

  When you don’t feel like you belong

  Dear Emily,

  I can’t lie—I’ve never really felt like I fit in with Alan and Eliza. One day you’ll discover they view life in a very specific way, and I’m not sure how my views became so different, but they did. I don’t think I’m owed anything. I don’t think people are better or worse depending on what clothes they wear or what car they drive.

  Because of that, I don’t always feel like I belong.

  For a long time, that really bothered me. I tried to blend into this world I was a part of, but so often I just seemed like a square peg in a round hole.

  It’s taken me a very long time, but I’m finally okay with it. I’m okay figuring out who I am, and I’m okay being that person, whether it meets someone else’s expectations or not.

  I hope you’re confident enough in who you are that when you feel like you don’t fit in, you’re able to realize that it’s okay, that you won’t fit in everywhere, that not everyone you meet will instantly understand or respect or admire you.

  Still, it can be lonely, this state of not belonging. You can feel like you’re floundering a little. I hope you find a place where you’re loved and accepted, but on the days you feel neither of those things, I hope you remember that you are in fact loved and accepted, not just by me, but by God. Yeah, I’m going to go there—I’m going to be that mom, talking to you about Jesus.

  You can roll your eyes—go ahead.

  But it’s true. I’ve learned it the hard way.

  Your grandparents are people of tradition, and while I can appreciate tradition, and I actually find it quite beautiful, the truth is, I feel God best when I’m not closed in by four walls and a ceiling. In a meadow or on a beach. And while I love the church and see so many reasons to go every Sunday, I also don’t think you have to leave God in the pew when you walk out the door.

  The way I see it, God is everywhere, which means you can find him everywhere (and I really hope you do). The thing I want you to know about God, if for any reason I’m ever not here to tell you myself, is that he’s ready and willing, whenever you are, to meet you where you’re at. No matter what.

  Keep in mind that I’ve made some pretty big mistakes in my life, and still I’ve felt God off the shores of Nantucket or even just looking at your smile. You don’t have to go through puzzles or mazes or riddles to find him—he’s right there, hand extended in your direction, anytime you’re ready.

  It’ll be worth it, Em. I promise. Everyone else in this world will let you down, but he never will.

  Whenever you feel lonely, he’s there. And he loves you so much. More than I do, though I find that hard to believe considering I love you more than anything. You’ll always belong with me, Emily Elizabeth, and you’ll always belong with him. No matter what.

  Love,

  Mom

  CHAPTER 6

  MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND, 1989

  Isabelle Ackerman bypassed the cottage’s front porch and ran straight to the backyard. She stripped down to her bathing suit on her way to the ocean, dropping her shirt and shorts in the sand beside her sandals and hat.

  She’d been dreaming of the water as she slogged her way through junior year, anxious to get back to the island. It was the only time she felt like a true adventurer. With her parents’ proclivity for rules and order, some days Isabelle felt like she was wearing a straitjacket or struggling for a good, deep breath.

  Here, that all went away.

  They loosened their hold on her ever so slightly, and Isabelle began to feel alive.

  The weight of the upcoming year loomed in the distance, and she pushed away the idea of growing up and moving on in favor of Nantucket skies, trips to Brant Point lighthouse, bike rides all over the island, lazy days on the water, and whatever other adventures the summer held.

  She dove into the waves, marking the moment in her mind—it was the moment she’d been craving since she left Nantucket at the end of the previous summer.

  The water glistened as the sun cast a diamond-like shimmer over the ocean. She swam out farther, imagining she was in Australia or Thailand or some remote island ripe for exploration.

  She’d already created a mental map of all the beaches she wanted to visit the year after she graduated high school, but she was fairly certain her parents would have something to say about her taking a gap year. Namely, You’re not allowed to take a gap year.

  But how blissful would it be to wake up every morning right on the beach? To visit different countries and inhale different cultures? To eat their food and study their ways? It was a dream, but the kind she kept to herself. Telling anyone else felt too risky, and she didn’t want to jinx it.

  She stayed in the water long enough to fill her soul, but not so long she’d end up in trouble for missing lunch. She swam toward the shore just as a trio of guys walked out of the beach grass and onto the sand. They wore swim trunks and carried surfboards.

  The closer she got, the clearer they became, and that’s when she saw that one of the guys was holding her clothes.

  If she showed up back at the house without them, her mother would have a fit.

  She reached the shore, aware of three pairs of eyes on her as sh
e emerged from the water. She’d never seen any of the boys before—they weren’t locals, which meant they were probably here for summer work at the golf club or one of the restaurants. That meant they were probably in college, which suddenly made them more attractive than scary.

  “These yours?”

  She shielded her eyes from the sun, trying not to look like a dorky high schooler and also trying not to look panicked that this guy was about to play some kind of trick that would leave her clothesless.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I guess I was pretty happy to see the ocean.”

  “Come on, JD,” one of the other guys said. “We’ve only got an hour.”

  They raced off toward the water, jumping face-first onto their surfboards, but the guy who had her clothes—JD—didn’t follow.

  “You live here?” he asked.

  “Only for the summer,” she said. “My family’s cottage is right up there.”

  He tossed a glance over his shoulder, but his eyes quickly returned to hers. “I’m staying at my aunt’s place, but it’s not right on the beach like this.”

  She nodded, unsure how to respond.

  “I’m working at the country club,” he said. “Do you ever go there?”

  “My dad does,” she said.

  “Maybe I’ll see him, then.”

  But he won’t see you.

  She hated how pretentious her parents could be. Ever since she’d first noticed it last summer, it had grated on her, how they seemed to believe they were better than other people just because they had money. It had been the cause of several arguments over the last nine months.

  “I’m JD,” he said.

  “I heard.” She smoothed her hair back, aware that while women in movies came out of the ocean looking hot and sexy, she likely looked awkward and disheveled.

  “Are you going to tell me your name?”

  She grinned. “If you want to know it badly enough, you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

  He laughed. “Is that right?”