Page 27 of Key West Homecoming

“You did.”

He picked up the bucket. “Come around front. It’s cooler on the porch.”

Emma followed him.

Jake left the bucket near the steps and went up ahead of her.

“You want some water?”

“I’d love some.”

“Have a seat.”

He disappeared inside.

The screen door slapped twice behind him.

Emma smiled.

She remembered that sound. The door had always bounced once before settling into the frame. Her grandmother used to complain about it and then forget about it until the next time someone went through.

Of all the things that had changed, nobody had fixed that.

She sat in one of the wicker chairs and looked around. Yesterday she’d been too distracted to pay much attention to the porch. Today she noticed everything.

The floorboards were painted the same soft gray she remembered. A brass hook still hung beside the front door. Her grandmother had kept a wide straw gardening hat there during the summer.

The hat was gone now.

Jake’s things had taken its place. An easel stood in the corner with a half-finished canvas on it. Two paperbacks lay face down on a small table, their spines bent. A pair of men’s running shoes sat beneath one of the windows.

It should have bothered her to see someone else’s life scattered across her grandmother’s porch.

It didn’t.

That surprised her.

Jake returned carrying two glasses of ice water. Each had a slice of lemon floating near the top.

“Thank you.”

He sat on the porch railing across from her.

Emma drank half the glass before putting it on the table beside her.

“So,” Jake said. “What can you tell me?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

He waited.

Emma looked down at her hands. “I need to ask you for something.”

“All right.”

“The letter you told me about yesterday. The one about the sale.”

Jake’s expression changed slightly.