Harper nodded. “Probably. He lives here, so he didn’t have as far to come.”
“Are we going in or what?” Willa asked.
Frankie took a deep breath. “We’re going in.”
Harper glanced at her sister, but Frankie’s steely expression didn’t give much away. The three women got out of the car and walked in together.
It was dark inside and took a few moments for their eyes to adjust. There was a big aquarium filled with fish off to one sideand a lot of netting and shells on the walls, along with glossy fish replicas.
A hostess met them. “Welcome to the Rusty Scupper. Three for lunch?”
Harper stepped forward. “We’re meeting some folks. An older couple. Maybe they’re here already?”
“Are you Frankie and Harper?”
“We are,” Harper replied.
The hostess nodded and grabbed three menus. “Right this way.”
The restaurant was mostly empty. It was only eleven-thirty, and the lunch crowd hadn’t made their way in yet. She led them to the right, past a generous salad bar to a large round table in the corner.
She set menus at three of the remaining four spots. “Enjoy your lunch.”
Buck was already on his feet. Glenda was getting up. He was a tall man, lanky and wiry like an old cowboy with a little paunch, a lot of white hair, and a trim beard to match. He stared at them with tears in his eyes. “Hello, there.”
“Hello,” Harper said. “I’m Harper and this is Frankie.” She gestured to her sister. “In case you didn’t recognize us. And that’s Willa.”
He nodded quickly. “I’d recognize you two anywhere.” He smiled at Willa. “Hello, there, Willa. Thank you for finding me.”
“You’re welcome.” Willa, suddenly shy, lifted her hand in a little wave and went silent.
“This is my wife, Glenda. I told her all about you.”
They said hello to Glenda and took their seats, Glenda, too.
Buck stayed standing, reaching into the back pocket of his cargo shorts and pulling out his wallet. He opened it up and thumbed a yellowed photo out of one of the card slots. He held it out. “See? You don’t look that much different.”
Frankie sucked in air.
The photo was of her and Harper, sitting in front of a Christmas tree. Frankie was smiling at an ornament. Harper looked distracted by the photographer.
Harper shook her head. “I know that’s us, but I don’t remember that picture.” Had he really carried it all this time?
“Sharlene didn’t like it because you weren’t smiling, but to me it summed up your personalities. At least at the time. Frankie, you were such a happy baby. Always smiling or laughing about something. And you, uh, Harper, you always seemed to be trying to figure things out.”
He glanced at the picture before tucking it back into his wallet, which he stuck in his pocket, then he sat down. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Me, too,” Harper said. She smiled at Glenda. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Glenda leaned in. “Was the drive all right? Traffic goes so fast on 95.”
“It does,” Harper said. “The drive was fine, though.” She was well aware that Frankie had yet to say anything. “Do you live close?”
“We do,” Glenda replied. “We have a little house on Lamplighter Drive. With Buck gone on the charter boat all the time, a small house is all we need.”
A server arrived, took their drink orders, then disappeared again.
Frankie still hadn’t spoken. Harper unrolled her silverware and spread the napkin on her lap. “Do you go out on the boat that often, Buck?”
