Page 96 of Key West Homecoming

“I do.”

“He doesn’t,” Tess said to Emma.

“Understood.”

Lloyd lifted his beer again. “Welcome to the bar, Emma.”

“Thank you, Lloyd.”

The screen door banged hard enough to make Tess turn.

A young woman came in carrying a cardboard box under one arm. She wore shorts, a Paradise Harbor House T-shirt and sunglasses pushed into her hair.

“Aunt Tess. Aunt Leah. I need eleven wine glasses by Thursday.”

“Hello to you too,” Leah said.

“Hello. I love you both. Eleven wine glasses.”

“What’s Thursday?” Tess asked.

“The donor evening. Elena ordered forty glasses and thirty-one arrived. The woman on the phone told me the other nine are in Fort Lauderdale and ‘in motion.’ She said, ‘in motion’ twice, which is how I know they aren’t.”

Tess took the box from her and put it behind the bar. “You’ll have fourteen. Kaitlyn, this is Emma. Emma, this is our niece. She does outreach for Paradise Harbor House and will tell you all about it if you give her the smallest opening.”

“I will,” Kaitlyn said. “It’s worth hearing about.”

Then she looked properly at Emma.

“Wait. You’re the cottage.”

Emma put down her glass. “Apparently I am.”

“Everybody’s been talking about it for a week.” Kaitlyn held out her hand and shook Emma’s with both of hers. “I’m glad things are going your way.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it that yet.”

“I would. Lloyd said you were going to win on Saturday, and Lloyd’s never wrong except about boats.”

“I’m never wrong about boats,” Lloyd said.

“Where’s Will?” Leah asked.

“Out with Patrick. They left at six this morning. He told me Sunday, but I forgot.” Kaitlyn pulled the sunglasses from her hair. “He’s been buried in an edit for two weeks anyway. He gets weird when he’s working.”

“Weird how?” Emma asked.

“He goes quiet and answers questions forty minutes after you ask them. The last time it lasted two months and turned into a film, so I leave him alone now.”

“Eleven glasses,” Tess said. “Thursday.”

“Fourteen. You promised fourteen.”

“Right. Fourteen.”

“I love you.” Kaitlyn was already backing toward the door. “Emma, come Thursday if you want. There’s wine, a woman playing cello and it’s over by nine. That’s my best sales pitch.”

Then she was gone.