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  If Luke put the land up for sale again, Charlie would have his hot issue for the campaign.

  Emily and Dr. Elliot found empty seats at a table nearby and sat down together. “By the way, where is your mother tonight?” Dr. Elliot asked. “I expected to see her here, brightening my evening with her sparkling wit.”

  “She wasn’t feeling well,” Emily told him.

  “Oh? Nothing serious, I hope,” he said with concern.

  “Just a headache. I’m not even sure if she really had one, to tell you the truth.”

  “Lillian still doesn’t approve of Sam?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Your mother is an extraordinary woman,” Dr. Elliot went on. “But she can also be the most stubborn, narrow-minded creature on earth.”

  “Yes, I know,” Emily said, biting back a smile.

  “I’ll stop by to see her this week, badger her a bit about missing a fine party. It will give me something to do,” he noted with a sly grin.

  “She’ll like that.” Emily smiled at him. “By the way, she has a meeting of the Historical Society this week. Maybe you should join her.”

  “Maybe I could shoot myself in the head first, dear,” Dr. Elliot replied. “I can just imagine it. A hearty portion of gossip served up with some little cucumber sandwiches and tea. Can you honestly see me sitting with that bunch?”

  Emily didn’t mean to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. “I suppose not,” she admitted.

  Ezra put his fork down and picked up his dish. “I think I’ll get more of that baked ham. Not high on the health-food list but very tasty. That’s important, too, you know.”

  “Absolutely,” Emily agreed.

  After politely asking if he could get her anything, Ezra left her alone at the table. But she soon looked up to find Dan Forbes smiling down at her, a plate of food in hand.

  “Hello, Emily. May I join you?”

  “Of course, have a seat.” Emily quickly dabbed her mouth with her napkin, then realized she’d wiped off all her lipstick. That would never happen to Betty, she thought wryly. Betty’s lipstick seems to stay on perfectly for days on end.

  “So, how’s the campaign going?” Dan asked.

  “I’m sorry, but is there a sign on my back that says, ‘Ask her about the campaign’?” Emily gave him a weary grin. “Sorry to sound touchy, but I was really hoping for a night off.”

  “Now that you mention it, I need a night off, too,” Dan said agreeably. “Besides, I don’t think there’s too much to say either way so far.”

  “Pretty dull for you, I guess. No big headlines for the paper.”

  “True. But I’m sure Charlie will come up with something to make things more interesting for you, Mayor. Maybe at the debate.”

  She couldn’t help smiling back. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Meanwhile, I’m hoping for the most boring reelection race in town history.”

  “Sorry, that’s just not going to happen. You’re a fighter, Emily. You don’t like folks to see you that way, but it’s true,” he insisted, his eyes still sparkling at her.

  His casual comment sounded a lot like a compliment, and it made her feel surprisingly good.

  “So, what have you been up to?” she asked. “Besides the newspaper, I mean.”

  “The paper is so short-staffed lately, I haven’t had much time for anything else. But I’m trying to sell the house I had with Claire and the kids. I don’t need all that space just for myself.” He shrugged.

  Dan had been divorced a little more than three years now, Emily recalled. His wife, Claire, left Cape Light for a teaching position at a university in the Midwest. Emily wasn’t sure why the marriage had failed, but they seemed to have parted on amicable terms. Their two children, Lindsay and Wyatt, were both in their mid-twenties and living their own lives.

  “Where will you move? Have you found a place yet?” Emily asked.

  “Not quite,” he admitted. “I hope to find something smaller here in town. Betty is looking around for me.”

  So maybe Dan and Betty were just talking over real estate tonight, Emily thought. Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t interested in each other. . . .

  “—She thinks she’s found a couple who want my place, so I’d better find somewhere to go. Or I might end up moving everything into the office.”

  “You’re there all night pretty often, from what I can see. It shouldn’t be too big a change for you,” Emily teased him.

  “True enough.” He smiled slightly. “I guess I could live on my boat. That would make me less of a workaholic, sort of a carefree beachcomber type. Women like that, right?”

  Dan spent too much time at work. But so did she. Though his tone was light, she heard an edge of defensiveness and wondered if his dedication to the paper had been an issue in his marriage.

  “Well, I’ve never been on your boat. But I somehow suspect you have a laptop or a typewriter stashed away in the cabin, just in case.”

  “I won’t confirm or deny that.” His serious tone was contradicted by the playful light in his eyes. “You ought to come sailing with me sometime, Emily, and see for yourself.”

  Emily was surprised by the invitation, but she didn’t take it seriously. Dan was probably just making polite conversation.

  “Sure, I’d love to go sometime,” she answered. “It’s hard to say when, though, with the election coming up.”

  “And all your other responsibilities,” he added quietly.

  He met her gaze with a knowing look, and Emily wondered what he was thinking. That she spent too much time caring for her mother? That probably was not something he found appealing. Dan seemed to be interested in cutting loose of responsibilities now, not getting involved with more of them.

  Why am I even thinking this way? she asked herself.

  Before she could come up with an answer, Joe Morgan and Molly Willoughby captured everyone’s attention as they carried a large, elaborately decorated cake to the buffet table.

  “Wow, what a cake,” Dan commented. “Where did they get that?”

  “Molly Willoughby made it,” Emily replied.

  “That’s right, Molly’s a professional now, isn’t she? I like those muffins she makes for the Beanery,” Dan said.

  Her muffins were wonderful, but the cake was a masterpiece, Emily thought, admiring the pale yellow icing and the real miniature orchids that swirled around its sides. Across the top, written in chocolate icing, was the message Love and happiness on your engagement and always.

  “Your sister and Sam deserve every happiness,” Dan said. “I hope their life together is as sweet and beautiful as that cake.”

  Emily looked up at him in surprise. It was an unusual way to put it, but sincere and original. “I’ll tell Jessica you said that.”

  As the guests gathered around the cake, Sam put an arm around Jessica. “We have a little announcement to make, everyone. We’ve finally set a wedding date,” he said happily. “We’ll be married on November nineteenth at Bible Community Church. Twelve o’clock sharp. And you’re all invited to come.”

  “With a party after, of course,” Jessica chimed in. “And I’m sending out real invitations,” she added hastily.

  “Real invitations or not, we’ll all be there. You can count on it,” Harry Reilly called out, making everyone laugh.

  Digger Hegman came up beside Jessica and Sam and patted the younger man on the back. “Aren’t we supposed to sing or something now, before you cut into that?” he asked them.

  Jessica glanced at Sam with a confused expression. Then Digger started singing in his low seaman’s baritone, “Happy engagement to you. Happy engagement to you. . . .” Before long all the guests joined in.

  Digger stepped back, looking very pleased, Emily noticed. A retired fisherman and clammer, Digger was easily one of the town’s most eccentric citizens. Still, he and Sam were good friends, despite their age difference—and Digger’s oddities. That was something else she liked about her future brother-in-la
w, the way he accepted people and looked beyond appearances to the spirit within.

  After the singing and applause finally died down, Sam said, “Thanks, everyone. We’re happy to have you all with us tonight.”

  “Now for some of this delicious cake.” Jessica cut a slice and handed it to the nearest guest, Digger. “Sam’s sister Molly made it. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “Absolutely. Looks almost too pretty to eat,” Digger said.

  “But I’m sure that won’t stop you. You shouldn’t be eating that, Dad,” Grace Hegman said quietly, coming up behind Digger.

  “Oh, come on, Grace. It’s a party. What’s the point of living if you can’t kick up your heels a little?”

  Grace merely glanced at him and shook her head. Harry came up to the table. He was holding a large flat envelope in his hand, Emily noticed.

  “Sam, Jessica, I thought I’d give this to you now, since you’re both finally in one place at the same time.”

  Sam laughed. “What’s this, Harry? One of those free calendars with the tide schedule from the boatyard? I’ve already got one down in my shop.”

  “You’re marrying a real wise guy,” Harry said to Jessica. “I hope you realize that.”

  “Yes, I know.” Jessica grinned at Sam.

  Then Emily watched Sam pull a photo out of the envelope, his eyes widening in astonishment. “It’s the sailboat.” He stared up at Harry. “You dog. You said it was sold.”

  “I didn’t say sold,” Harry corrected him. “I said it was no longer available. As soon as I heard you two were getting married, I put it aside as a present.”

  “Oh, Harry . . . you shouldn’t have.” Jessica leaned over and gave Harry a hug. “Thank you, so much.”

  “Come on, now. It was nothing.” Harry ran his hand across his bristly gray crew cut and looked down at the floor.

  “Thanks, Harry.” Sam leaned over and shook Harry’s hand hard, then slapped him on the shoulder. He glanced at the photo again. “It’s a beautiful little boat. What should we name it, Jess?”

  She gazed at the photograph for a moment, then pulled his head down to whisper in his ear.

  “Perfect,” he replied, smiling.

  “Well?” Harry asked. “Now you’ve got us all in suspense.”

  “We’re going to call it Hometown Girl,” Sam answered.

  Emily caught her sister’s eye and nearly laughed out loud. “That is perfect,” she said.

  Emily recalled how Sam had surprised Jessica with the boat as a gift for her birthday last summer—and how Jessica wouldn’t accept it. She still had plans to move back to Boston and wasn’t ready to make such a big commitment to him. Sam got so angry, he jumped in the boat and took off and wouldn’t speak to her for weeks. It seemed as though the relationship was over. Now it was good to see them laughing about it, Emily thought.

  After all of Jessica’s planning and determination to leave her hometown, she’d ended up staying here, after all—and looking perfectly content with the decision. It was funny how life worked out sometimes, no matter how you tried to plan or scheme.

  After the cake and coffee were served, guests began to say their good nights, and the crowd thinned out. Emily stayed on to help clean up. She found a tray in the kitchen and began collecting empty cups and glasses.

  From the front parlor she saw Jessica, Sam, and Reverend Ben talking quietly together in the foyer. Her sister looked distressed, Emily noticed. Moments later the Reverend caught Emily’s gaze and beckoned her over.

  “I was just talking to Reverend Ben about Mother,” Jessica explained. “He’s offered to speak to her.”

  Emily had been thinking of suggesting such a visit herself, and was glad he’d offered. “Mother thinks very highly of you, Reverend. I think she’d take your words to heart.”

  “Well, thanks for the compliment, Emily. But we all know how strong willed your mother is. No one is going to change her mind overnight. I’ll speak to her and hope to plant a seed. Meanwhile, I think we all need to have patience. I know it’s hard, Jessica. I know your feelings are hurt.”

  She nodded, looking on the verge of tears. Emily’s heart went out to her.

  “But there’s plenty of time for her to see reason and change her mind,” the Reverend went on. “A few prayers might help to steer her in the right direction.”

  “We’ve already got that part covered,” Sam assured him. He squeezed Jessica’s shoulder and smiled at her.

  Reverend Ben nodded. His blue eyes sparkled behind his round wire-rim glasses. “Sounds as if we’re doing all we can. Here comes Carolyn. I’ll say good night, then. Thanks again for a lovely evening.”

  He shook Sam’s hand and kissed Jessica on the cheek.

  Emily resumed her cleanup work as the Reverend and Carolyn left. Even though the problem Jessica faced with their mother was distressing, Emily was glad to see how much her sister’s faith had grown in the past few months. Before she met Sam, Jessica hardly ever went to church. Now she had both Sam and her faith to turn to. That, at least, was some comfort.

  EMILY OPENED HER FRONT DOOR AND FUMBLED FOR THE LIGHT. HER TWO cats bounded out of the darkness and wound themselves around her ankles, purring.

  “For goodness’ sake, just let me in the door,” Emily pleaded, laughing.

  She had only had the cats a few weeks and wasn’t quite used to the nightly feline attack. Still, she found it nice to be greeted by something warm and alive, instead of coming home to an empty house.

  The cats followed her to the kitchen, where she shook some food into their bowls, and they settled down to eat. She checked her phone messages and found only one.

  “I’m feeling a bit better, Emily, and I’d like to go to church tomorrow,” Lillian said crisply. “I will expect you at the usual time. I’m going to sleep now, so don’t call back and wake me up.”

  A quick recovery, just as I expected, Emily thought as she set her purse on the dresser. Remembering the jewelry case inside, she opened the purse and took out the velvet box. She had thought of giving the pearls to Jessica to return to the bank, despite her mother’s explicit directions not to. Now she was glad she had forgotten all about them.

  It was just as well if Jessica didn’t think about the pearls right now, Emily decided. She would bring them to the bank sometime this week and put them in the safe-deposit box.

  Leaving the jewelry case on her dresser, she started to get ready for bed. She returned from the bathroom to find the two cats already curled up on her comforter.

  “At least you’ll keep my feet warm when the cold weather sets in,” Emily said to them. One cat narrowly opened her eyes and gave Emily a feline blink of contentment.

  She was about to get into bed herself when the jewelry case caught her eye. Should she hide it, she wondered, the way her mother did? She felt downright silly even thinking about it. Cape Light was as safe as any place could be these days; she often went out without locking her doors.

  But giving in to a cautious impulse, Emily opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, lifted the soft pile of old sweaters and scarves, and slipped the velvet case underneath. Pushing it toward the back of the drawer, she felt something else back there. Something hard and hidden away—a book or album.

  Emily pulled it out and felt a wave of sadness wash over her. It was the journal she kept in her early twenties, when she was married to Tim and living in Maryland. She had written in it every day during their almost two years together. And later, after his death, when their baby was born. And when her mother had persuaded her to give up the child for adoption.

  She didn’t need to open it. She knew what was inside—the heartache, the loss, the empty place that could never be filled, the missing pieces that could never be replaced. They hadn’t changed. All of it was etched inside her heart and soul. All of it she carried inside her every day.

  Lillian believed that when Emily returned to Cape Light, she had resumed her “real” life, but in Emily’s mind her real life had ended long
ago, down in Maryland. Despite her outward appearance of success, all these long years in Cape Light had always held a peculiarly unreal feeling for her.

  She studied the book in her hand, feeling its hard edges and smooth black cover. It was all in there. She wrote only a few entries after returning to New England, then put even her ambitions to be a professional writer aside forever. It was the first of many choices she made to deprive herself, knowing that she didn’t deserve to be truly happy.

  Emily tried not to think about her life with Tim if she could help it. But not a day passed when she didn’t think about their daughter and wonder what had happened to her, where she might be right now. Raised by a loving family, she prayed, and old enough by now to have graduated college.

  She had made many efforts to find her, the last time venturing down to Maryland to the agency that had handled the adoption. The adoption was sealed tight; her mother had made sure of that. All Emily could do was sign papers giving her permission to be contacted if her daughter ever tried to find her.

  Putting the journal back in the drawer, she felt angry again with her mother for the way it had all turned out, the way Lillian had pressured her, manipulated her into the decision. Reverend Ben said she and Jessica should forgive their mother for the things she did that were hurtful to them.

  But it was hard. Very hard, Emily thought. She tried, but she didn’t think she ever really could.

  She prayed for help, to find forgiveness in her heart and to someday find her daughter. It was the only thing she really truly wanted out of life.

  But first she needed to get through the election and then Jessica’s wedding. After that she would try again.

  This time she wouldn’t give up so easily, Emily vowed as she flicked off the light.

  As her eyes closed she recalled one of her favorite Bible verses: “Ask and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”

  When the time is right, please help me find her, Lord, Emily prayed as she drifted off to sleep.