Page 57 of Key West Homecoming

“Who is he?”

Tess’s voice softened.

“The gentleman who used to read to your grandmother. Connie found him.”

Emma looked down at the envelope again.

For several days, Gloria’s gentleman friend had been nothing more than a story Connie remembered and a name Emma didn’t have. Now he was suddenly real enough to have sent her a letter.

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much.”

“Take it to your table. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“I haven’t ordered.”

“Tomato basil soup. It’s actually decent today.”

Emma smiled faintly. “That’s quite a recommendation.”

“I don’t oversell.”

Emma carried the envelope to the table near the window and sat in her chair. She put the envelope in front of her and looked at her name again.

She wanted to open it immediately, but for some reason she didn’t.

Gloria had known this man for years. He had read to her, traveled with her and apparently been important enough that Connie remembered him all this time later. Emma had spent the last few days wanting to find him, yet now that his letter was sitting in front of her, she felt nervous about what it might contain.

She slipped one finger beneath the flap.

The paper inside was heavy and ivory, folded neatly in thirds. The letter was handwritten in the same careful hand as the envelope.

Dear Ms. Kendrick,

My name is Edmund Fairbanks. I am a retired professor of Classics from Brown University, presently staying with my daughter Rebecca in Key West as I recover from an illness.

First, let me say I’m so grateful to our mutual friend, Connie for getting in touch with me. I’m embarrassed to say, I’m at fault for letting so much time go by without getting in touch with you.

I am writing you because your grandmother, Gloria, and I were dear to one another for the last eight and a half years of her life, and because I have something she asked me to give you if the day ever came that you and I were to meet.

I would have written you sooner. The delay is entirely mine, and I owe you an explanation for it in person. I am well enough to travel a short distance now and would be grateful for the chance to sit with you.

If it is agreeable, I would propose meeting at The Reading Room on Elizabeth Street tomorrow morning at ten. It’s a bookstore with a small cafe, a garden in the back, and quiet enough for the sort of conversation I hope to have with you. I will be at the corner table beneath the olive tree.

I understand if this letter is unwelcome, or if the timing is difficult. Please write back through Connie if you prefer another day. I will make myself available.

I’m sorry I’m not using technology to communicate, but I’m a bit old-fashioned and prefer writing instead.

Your grandmother spoke of you with great love. I hope I may tell you what I know.

Yours sincerely,

Edmund Fairbanks

There was a Providence, Rhode Island address beneath his signature and a Key West phone number below that.

Emma read the letter again.

Eight and a half years.