If for Any Reason

by Courtney Walsh

  “Do you know who she might’ve been going to see that night?”

  “I’m so sorry, Emily, but I don’t.” She squeezed Emily’s hands. “Your mother was a wonderful person. I wish we’d made things right before she passed away. It’s one of my greatest regrets.”

  “Thank you for saying so,” Emily said. “Maybe one day you can tell me stories about when you guys were friends. I’d love to know more.”

  Shae smiled warmly. “I’d be happy to.”

  CHAPTER 28

  THE NEXT DAY, Jolie sat on the sofa like a hawk on a telephone pole, watching, waiting . . . stalking.

  “Jolie, come eat something,” Nan said. “You’re going to go crazy if you keep staring at your phone.”

  “GrandNan, I can’t eat at a time like this,” Jolie said. “What if I didn’t make it?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you made it,” Hollis’s dad said. “Emily wouldn’t cut you from the show.”

  “Grandpa.” Jolie glared at him. “I don’t want to make it because Emily is Dad’s friend. I want to make it because I’m good.”

  Hollis stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter, holding a nearly empty mug of coffee.

  “Worrying about it isn’t going to do anything but ruin your day,” his mom said. She looked at Hollis, then motioned toward Jolie with her head, as if he should be the one to comfort her in the midst of her worries.

  “When are they going to send the list?” Jolie whined. “It’s been literally hours.”

  “They’ll send it when it’s ready,” Hollis said. “Let’s try to get your mind off it for a while. We could paddleboard now?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do anything until I know my fate.”

  Mom smiled. “She certainly does have a flair for the dramatic.”

  Just then, Jolie gasped. “It’s here.”

  Mom set a plate of pancakes on the table and Dad glanced up from the newspaper.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Hollis asked.

  “I’m scared to open it,” Jolie said.

  “JoJo, you’ve been waiting literally hours for this list. Open it.” Hollis set his mug down and walked into the living room, where his daughter held the phone as if it were a ticking bomb.

  “Will you look at it?” She extended the phone in his direction.

  Hollis stared at the phone, her in-box open on the screen. She wanted him to look for her? The expression on her face squeezed his heart. “Sure.”

  He sat down next to her and opened the e-mail. “‘Dear Brave Auditioners,’” he read.

  “Skip that part,” Jolie said. “Just find the link to the cast list.” She sat cross-legged on the couch, eyes tightly shut, hands folded in front of her as if she were praying. Her lips moved quickly, a slight whisper escaping.

  Maybe she was praying.

  Hollis scrolled down until he found a link that said Cast List, clicked on it, and waited for the page to open.

  “Well . . . ?”

  “It’s loading.”

  “That’s what we get when we don’t have any Wi-Fi. I have to use data and . . . oh, why is it taking so long?”

  The page loaded the words Congratulations to the Cast of Alice in Wonderland. He scrolled until he found her name. He looked up at her.

  “Jolie?”

  “Is it bad? It’s okay if it is. As long as I’m in it, I’ll be okay. I’m in it, right?”

  “It says you’re the Queen of Hearts.”

  “I’m the Queen of Hearts?” Jolie snatched the phone out of Hollis’s hand and looked at the list as if she couldn’t believe it until she read her name for herself. “I’m the Queen of Hearts!”

  She ran over and hugged Nan, who said, “Congratulations, JoJo! You must’ve done very well to get that part!”

  Jolie then raced over and kissed Hollis’s dad on the cheek and said, “I’m the Queen of Hearts, Grandpa!”

  “Is that good?” Hollis’s father winked. “Congrats, JoJo!”

  Hollis stood, expecting her to run his way next, but instead, she clutched her phone to her chest and closed her eyes. “I’ve gotta call Mom! She’s going to freak!”

  She dashed out of the room, leaving him standing there, dumbly.

  He glanced at his mom, whose expression told him she’d noticed the way Jolie had passed him over.

  “She’s just excited,” Nan said.

  “Yeah, for sure.” Hollis waved her off with a forced smile, a fake smile, which he was sure his mom saw right through. “I’m going to head out. I want to get some more work done on Emily’s patio.”

  “Hollis . . .”

  But he didn’t wait for whatever his mom would say in an attempt to make him feel better. He closed the sliding door behind him and started off toward Emily’s house.

  He needed a distraction.

  Emily’s backyard was happy to oblige. Thankfully, Jack’s crew seemed focused on the interior of the house, leaving Hollis alone with his thoughts—and his frustrations. He worked nonstop for at least an hour, taking out every last bit of frustration on the dense soil in what had once been the Ackermans’ prized rose garden.

  He’d overheard Emily mention she wanted to bring it back. If he couldn’t get this parenting thing right, maybe he could at least do this one thing for the girl next door.

  “You’re back.”

  Hollis squinted up at Emily, who would be blocking the sun if she’d move about a step to her right.

  “Yeah, I wanted to get here early because I’m taking Jolie paddleboarding again just after lunch.”

  She smiled, and he felt something take hold of him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “You know you don’t have to work on my house,” Emily said. “I hired a guy.”

  He stood. “Yeah, I know.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “I came here to tell you thanks,” he said.

  She grinned. “Jolie?”

  He nodded. “She was beside herself when she found out.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  Hollis smiled. “You made her whole summer. And mine.”

  “She texted me a little bit ago,” Emily said. “All caps and lots of exclamation points.”

  Hollis made himself smile, though it reminded him that Jolie hadn’t celebrated with him at all. “So what are you going to make me build you?”

  “Oh, I’ve got big plans.” She waggled her eyebrows. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  “I figured.”

  “Now, why are you really here?” She stuck her hands on her hips and stared him down.

  He shrugged. “Making sure everything’s okay. Don’t like the idea of a bunch of strange guys having access to your house all day.”

  “Oh, you’re being ultra-overprotective, then.”

  Man, he liked her. She was more than beautiful. She was smart and determined and broken and she had no idea how incredible and rare she was. She lived on purpose—like she used every color in the crayon box. The big box, too, with the built-in sharpener.

  “Earth to the Miracle Man.” She waved a hand in front of his face.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Yes, ultra-overprotective. And you can’t do anything about it.”

  She shook her head, and he noticed she had a bag slung over her shoulder.

  “You headed to the theatre?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m nervous.”

  “About what?”

  “Everything,” she said.

  “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  She shrugged. “Surprise. I’m not as sure of myself as you think.”

  The words sounded unplanned, and her nervous laugh was a poor cover-up.

  “You’re going to do amazingly well, Emily,” he said. “I’m telling you, you’re a natural.”

  “I’m going to go ahead and pretend I agree.” She moved her tote bag from one shoulder to the other. “Fake it till you make it, right?”

  “Right.” Only he didn’t want
to fake anything with Emily. He wanted to tell her everything he’d been thinking lately, about Jolie, about baseball, about her.

  Mostly about her.

  “Don’t work too hard,” she called over her shoulder.

  She walked toward the shed, where her bike was stored. He watched. For several seconds, he watched. She must’ve sensed it because she turned around and smirked at him. “Slacker!”

  He lifted a sweaty arm, waving to let her know he’d taken her point, and forced himself to get back to work.

  But that didn’t stop him from watching her get on that bike and pedal off in the opposite direction.

  He spent most of the morning weeding overgrown flower beds, and by noon, he was ready for a break. He thought back to the way Jolie’s eyes had lit like 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 walked upstairs. The first room was empty, so he moved down the hall to the next bedroom, where he found Jack, sitting at a desk in the corner, staring at something in his hand. The man didn’t stir when Hollis entered the room. It was as if he was in another world.

  “Hey,” Hollis said.

  The look on Jack’s face said, Caught, and Hollis took a step closer, a poor attempt to make sense of the scene in front of him. As he did, Jack tucked whatever he was holding into his shirt pocket.

  “Sorry, Hollis. Going over some figures.” He turned away, rubbed his hands over his face and eyes.

  “Some figures?” It was an odd place to crunch numbers.

  “Uh, yeah, for the remodel.”

  “Do you have bad news?”

  “No, no, not at all. I just get caught up in it sometimes.” Jack stood. “How are things going outside? Looked like you were making a lot of progress.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” Hollis said. “I came up to tell you I’m going to take a few hours off this afternoon to take Jolie to the beach.”

  “Good,” Jack said. “That’s a great idea. Spend as much time with your daughter as you can.”

  Hollis stood in silence, sizing up the man Emily had hired to remodel her house—a man they knew nothing about. A man who was spending hours alone and unchecked in Emily’s house.

  “What are you working on in here?” Hollis asked. “Emily mentioned the bedrooms were in pretty good shape.”

  “Oh, they are,” Jack said. “I came up here to make a quick phone call and got sidetracked by the figures.”

  “Maybe I could take a look at them. Do we need to cut down somewhere, make more room in the budget?”

  Jack stuck his hands on his hips and affixed a nonchalant expression on his face. “No, it’s nothing to worry about. Have a great time at the beach.”

  Jack left, leaving Hollis alone in the quiet of a bedroom that had once belonged to the most important person in Emily’s life.

  He walked to the desk and gave it a once-over.

  Nothing looked particularly out of place, except for two photographs that seemed to have been pulled off the bulletin board and laid on the desk.

  Hollis picked them up. In one, Isabelle held a baby Emily in front of a Christmas tree and in the other, Isabelle and Emily stood side by side on the beach behind the cottage.

  Their beach.

  Hollis could see two empty spots where the photos had been on the bulletin board. Why would Jack have them out? And what had he stuck in his pocket?

  Hollis didn’t have a good feeling about this guy.

  What if Emily was in danger?

  “Dad, where have you been?” Jolie’s voice spun him around. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
/>   “Sorry, JoJo. I got distracted.”

  “Whoa, is this Emily’s mom’s room?” Jolie walked over to the bulletin board and looked carefully at each photo pinned to it, which gave Hollis a chance to do the same. There was Emily, just as he remembered her, grinning back at him.

  “Is this you?” Jolie pulled a photo off the board and showed it to Hollis.

  There, captured in grainy, faded color, was an image of him, Emily, and Hayes sitting on the dock, toes touching the water. Their arms were draped around each other, Hayes was missing a few teeth, and Hollis looked, as he generally did in adolescent photos, awkward. Emily was radiant, as she often was in real life. It was like there was a light inside her that glowed a little brighter than everyone else’s.

  She commanded a room. She turned heads. She made people happy to be alive.

  And yet, thinking about her now, he knew something had happened to dim that light. Oh, she still played the part beautifully, but Emily—his Emily—was more cautious, more withdrawn. Unhappy, maybe?

  Did she have anyone to talk to? Was he the only person in her life who could sense her discontent?

  “Is it?” Jolie nudged him with her shoulder. For a moment, he’d forgotten she’d asked a question.

  “Yeah, me and Uncle Hayes,” he said.

  “You guys were so young.”

  “About your age, I think.”

  “Emily’s beautiful,” Jolie said.

  And this time it didn’t sound like a trap, so Hollis had no problem uttering a thoughtful “She sure is.”

  Beautiful and broken, like so many people. And all he wanted to do was help put her back together.

  CHAPTER 29

  EMILY WAS SCHEDULED TO SPEND all of Sunday at the arts center with her team. Nothing about those hours felt like work. She was supposed to be the one casting the vision, but she found their excitement infectious.

  When she left that morning, she was surprised to see Jack’s work truck pull up.

  “You work on Sundays?”

  “Tight schedule,” he said. “Besides, you’re working, aren’t ya?”

  She smiled, apologized that there was no coffee made, and then got on her way.