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EMERY

On Tuesday evening, she walked into the Quinn household, which was fragrant with Blakely’s taco efforts.

She’d spent the afternoon with Lou Lennon, who gave her a shot of encouragement as only he could do. In his gruff, put-on-your-big-girl-pants way. “Do the job you were hired to do , Emery. Don’t shrink back and hide.”

As she left Lou, she called Elliot and explained what happened with the paper and why she was in Ohio, assuring him Rex was at the helm until she got back.

He was kind, saying they’d talk when she returned to Sea Blue Beach. His steady, almost monotone, voice gave her no clue about the paper’s future, nor her own.

A text from Rex brought her up to date with the Wednesday edition. After multiple tests to the printer—all of Sunday’s missing ads included—he was confident the edition would print just fine. Nevertheless, he planned to stay on guard.

“Yay, Emery’s here.” Blakely greeted her from the kitchen, where she was browning fish in a cast-iron skillet. How many t imes had Blakely declared, “Yay, Emery’s here,” and Emery hadn’t responded? Dozens. Pain and fear made her blind and dull.

“Look who’s home.” Blake pointed the spatula toward the family room, where Joanna reclined in her BarcaLounger, wearing a robe and fuzzy slippers.

Dad sat next to her, reading a book. Elianna was ragdolled in the oversized ottoman, half awake.

A game show was muted on the TV. “Just in time for Taco Tuesday, her favorite. Em, please, please, please make your guacamole.”

“Yes, please,” Joanna said with a nod at Emery. “It’s one of Rosie’s recipes.”

“Who’s going to help me cut up the avocados? Dad? Elianna?” Emery said, with a small smile at Joanna, and then feigned a stink when no one’s hand raised. “Oh, I see how it is. Big sister and little sister are left on their own. Ha, shows you. We’ll leave the cleaning up to you guys.”

She’d just mashed the avocados when Ava and Jamie walked in, waving their marriage license.

“It’s real now. No going back.” Ava glanced at Emery, and everything in her expression said, Thank you.

“She’s stuck with me,” Jamie said. “Well, almost.” He glanced at Emery with his own look of gratitude. Who knew the guy who hit her in the head with a Frisbee as she crossed the Oval would become her friend and, one day, her family?

Dinner was lively, with everyone talking at once, then among themselves, then across the table. Dad and Joanna presided from their prospective ends, Joanna’s weak physical presence nothing against her inner strength.

By the time Emery crawled into her old room’s very comfortable Murphy bed, she had confirmed she’d walk down the aisle in front of two hundred guests wearing pink. She’d also agreed that hunk-o-rama Caleb Ransom would be her plus-one.

She hoped, anyway. She’d not asked him yet. But he did love h er. And love was a powerful force. She’d done some research on the power of love and forgiveness, considering a series for the Gazette . Sea Blue Beach itself could use a bit of both.

Along the way, she read quite a few articles about the disastrous royal visit. “What were the royals doing in Sea Blue Beach , Florida , in the first place? Princess Gemma does come from a shady , redneck background. Has she infected the royal family?”

Funny how narrow-minded people can be so ... narrow-minded.

But for now, she was tired and full of yummy fish tacos and the love of her family. She’d taken too long to accept what Dad and Joanna built.

“Em?” Blakely knocked on the door, then peeked in. “Your phone was pinging and ringing downstairs.” She extended it toward her.

“I was about to miss that thing.” She reached for the phone, seeing a missed call from Simon.

“Do you think I could come down for the summer since I didn’t come for spring break? I could get a job and—”

“Do you really want to, Blake?”

“I promise not to get in your way or anything.” She leaned against the wall, head down, voice unsure. Her demeanor was so unlike the vivacious, loud Blakely Quinn.

“Absolutely you can come. You could work at the paper or the Starlight skating rink or one of the coffee shops. Delilah might want help at the Sands.”

“Honest?” She brightened and stood tall. “I’ll help out, won’t get in your way.”

“Hey, come here.” She patted the bed beside her, and when Blakely crawled in next to her, Emery wrapped her in her arms. “I love you, and I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like you were a nuisance or a bother.

Or that I wasn’t interested. That’s on me and my fears, okay?

You’re amazing, Blakeley Quinn. I’m so very happy you’re my sister. ”

And so Emery had her first sisterly laugh-cry with Blakely, then determined June would be the best month for her to come down. When she ran off yelling, announcing her plans to Dad and Joanna, Emery listened to Simon’s message.

“Emery? Simon here. You won’t believe it, but our special guests are returning. Small private gathering. But they are ”—he put a lot of emphasis on they are —“coming back. Rex said you’re out of town. Let’s talk when you get back. Hurry home.”

The Royal Blues were returning? What? How? Why? Ah, who cares, the royals were coming.

Emery jumped off the bed for a quick jig around her room. Thank God!

“Emery?” Joanna’s soft voice sounded through the door. “I’ve been thinking about your missing ads and—”

Emery opened the door. “You’ve been thinking about the Gazette’s missing ads?”

“Convalescing gives one time to think. Look, this is probably not on the same scale, but we had an issue with the café network going offline.” Joanna laughed at the memory. “Drove us nuts. As it turned out, someone on our cleaning crew was unplugging the modem....”

CALEB

Because Cassidy promised Bentley an adventure, and because she spent two days in the bathroom crying, and because Principal Tucker gave Bentley another day of excused absences, Caleb, Cassidy, and Bentley went exploring.

I n between the Africatown Heritage House, Richards-DAR House Museum, the Colonial Fort Condé, and USS ALABAMA Battleship Memorial Park, Cassidy whispered her story to Caleb.

“Maybe it’s too late for me to come home. Too late to turn this Titanic around.” She motioned to herself. “Iceberg ahead.”

“There are millions of people across the globe who turn their lives around. Who avoid the iceberg.”

“Yet I keep running into mine. I try to change, and I end up right back where I started. Ripped apart. He was right ... I’m nothing. No one wants me.”

“Okay, enough of that, Cass. Who is this jackwagon who said you were nothing?”

“Look at Bent. He’s having a blast.” She smiled toward her son, who was snapping a million photos of the USS Alabama ’s torpedo room with Cassidy’s phone.

“It all hit me this weekend. I’m trash. Then I imploded with all the stuff I’ve been holding in.

The tears wouldn’t stop. I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t scare Bentley. ”

“You scared him anyway.” He bent to see her face. “How are you trash? In all the years Dad told me to take out the garbage, never once did he say, ‘Don’t forget your sister.’”

She smiled for a second, then sobered. “Coach Sanchez.”

“Sanchez? Sanchez said you were trash? When? Why?”

“Wow, it’s tight in here.” She bent to walk through the ship’s watertight door, following Bentley for the rest of the tour.

“The spring of my junior year, I met him at a party on the West End. At Ty Carson’s house.

” Ty had been a star tailback for the Panthers.

Ended up washing-out at the college level.

“The moment I saw him ... I can’t explain it, something happened to me.

He drew me in with some sort of pheromone-producing magnet.

I couldn’t look at anyone else. Thanks to Dad, I knew who he was—a former Florida State defensive end who’d gone pro until a n injury ended his career.

I never expected to see him in Sea Blue Beach.

Never expected him at Ty Carson’s place.

Never expected to be so bowled over by him. ”

“He grew up in Pensacola,” Caleb said. “But we were all surprised when he took the West End coaching job.”

“Yeah ... anyway, he winked at me, smiled, nodded in that sexy dude way for me to come talk to him. I floated over, literally, I’m not sure my feet hit the floor.

Of all the girls in the room—and there were plenty—he picked me.

I told him I was eighteen, on a gap year playing travel softball before going to Florida State.

He pouted like he didn’t want me to go away.

Said something like, ‘And just when I’d just met the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

’ I was putty under his charm. He started telling me about FSU, the best places to live on or off campus, where to hang out, and named people he’d introduce me to once I got there, talking about how he’d come visit me whenever he could.

Visit me? He made me feel so special. So wanted.

And it’s not like I didn’t have that with Dad or you or Grandpa.

But you’re family. This guy, who could have any girl he wanted, picked me .

Right then and there, I decided I’d met the love of my life. ”

“Didn’t he have a fiancée?”

“Mom, look at this.” Bentley pointed to the mannequin dressed as a World War Two sailor standing in the radio room.

“Cool, Bent. Think you want to join the navy some day?”

“Maybe.” He aimed her phone all over the place with a snap, snap, snap.

“Have fun deleting most of those once you get home.”

“I don’t mind. We’re making good memories after this rotten weekend.”

“So, you and Sanchez.” They continued from the radio room to the kitchen.

“I didn’t know he was engaged. He asked me out and—” She c ut Caleb a sharp side glance. “Two weeks later, I was sleeping with him. My choice. He didn’t force me. I honestly believed he was my one true love.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”