Page 120 of Key West Homecoming

Emma probably wouldn’t testify that day, but Rachel wanted her in the courtroom.

“I want Arthur to see you,” she said.

Emma raised an eyebrow.

“Not because we’re putting on a show. Because this is your grandmother’s estate and you have every right to be there. Wear something you’d wear to a client meeting.”

“You want Chicago Emma.”

“I’ve met Chicago Emma. She’s useful.”

Emma smiled. “Understood.”

When they were finished, Emma stood and Rachel walked her toward the front desk.

“Thank you, Rachel. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

“You’re welcome. Try not to spend the entire weekend thinking about this.”

“I make no promises.”

Yolanda looked up as they passed.

“Middle stack?”

“I didn’t touch it.”

“That’s my girl.”

Emma stepped onto Whitehead Street and put on her sunglasses.

Her car was parked less than a block away, but she didn’t want to get into it. For the last hour, they had talked about Gloria’s life in terms of probate filings, account balances and property values. Instead, Emma wanted to walk for a while and think about her Gloria Kendrick.

She turned toward the water.

Maeve was on the foredeck of No Worries, coiling a dock line Patrick had left in what she considered an unforgivable state before driving to Miami for the day.

The marina was quiet. Most of the charter boats had gone out hours earlier, and a pelican stood on a piling three slips down, watching the water as if it had nowhere else to be.

Maeve had grown to appreciate mornings like this. In Boston, even time off had usually contained a list of things she ought to be doing. Key West had changed that. She still thought like an attorney more often than she wanted to admit, but she no longer felt compelled to turn every hour into something productive.

A year ago, she wouldn’t have recognized the woman standing barefoot on a boat in cutoff shorts, worrying about a badly coiled line.

Then again, a year ago she hadn’t known the truth about where she came from.

Maeve had been adopted by two people who gave her a good life in Boston and loving them had never stopped her from wondering about the woman who gave birth to her. That question had eventually brought her to Key West, where she found more than she expected. She found her mother. She learned that Connie, the owner of Margarita Max’s, was her aunt. She fell in love with Patrick, a local boat captain and tour guide who had somehow become an important part of her life.

She still told people she hadn’t decided if Key West was permanent. Lately, even she had begun to hear how unconvincing that sounded.

Footsteps came along the dock behind her. Maeve glanced over her shoulder and recognized Emma Kendrick immediately.

She had spent two hours across a table from Emma a week and a half earlier and had noticed that Emma walked like a woman on her way to a meeting even when there wasn’t one.

“You’re still wearing the blazer,” Maeve said.

Emma looked down at herself. “I had a meeting with Rachel.”

“It’s May.”