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the day, even the notion of looking up old classmates seemed annoyingly ludicrous. “You’re kidding.”
    “No, sir, I’m very serious. Dr. Townsend has been quite anxious to speak to you.”
    Christopher frowned. “You must have the wrong Walker, Mr. Snowden, because I don’t remember anybody named Townsend in my graduating class.”
    “She was Wilson then. Emma Wilson.”
    It was as if he’d been nailed in the gut by a sledgehammer. Christopher felt his breath leave his chest in a painful huff and he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk, his knees like jelly. “Emma Wilson?” Emma Wilson who’d owned every teenaged dream and fantasy? Emma Wilson who’d laughed and argued and brightened every day of his high school existence until one day he’d gotten the nerve to immortalize his feelings in one very ill-advised letter?
    Emma Wilson who’d told him she didn’t feel about him as he’d felt about her? Without words of course. She’d ignored his letter, acted like it had never happened.
Like you told her to,
he thought. But still . . . It had been the most traumatic event of his life. Until Mona, that was. Compared to Mona, Emma had been a mere amateur in the pain department. “Did you say Emma Wilson?”
    “I did.”
    “What does she want?” His heart was beating harder now.
    “She wants to talk to you. Face to face if that’s possible.”
    The thought of seeing Emma again made his mouth actually water.
It’s pathetic
, he thought.
Worse than Pavlov’s damn dogs
. But it was the reaction he’d had every time Emma Wilson had entered a room, all five-feet-two curvy inches of her. He’d drooled enough over Emma through high school to fill a damn swimming pool.
    “Where is she now?”
    “Dr. Townsend lives in Cincinnati, but she said she’d be more than willing to meet you in St. Pete. She doesn’t want to inconvenience you, just talk to you.”
    Dr. Townsend? He wondered what kind of doctor she was, medical or Ph.D. Either way he was proud of her.
Good girl, Em.
“Why didn’t she call me herself?”
    “She didn’t want to put you on the spot. She thought if you didn’t want to see her you’d find it easier to say so to me than to her. And she didn’t want to cause any trouble if you were married.”
    Christopher swallowed. Hard. “I’m not.”
    “I know. She wouldn’t let me contact you until I’d made sure of that. What should I tell Dr. Townsend? Would you be willing to meet with her?”
    Yes. Yes. Yes
. Christopher drew a breath, made himself slow down. “I’m not sure yet. Is she married?”
    “She’s a widow.”
    Hello
. A jolt of pleasure rushed through him, followed quickly by shame. Her husband was dead. That was no reason for celebration. “Why does she want to talk to me? Now, after all this time?”
It doesn’t matter, idiot. Just say yes
.
    “That she wouldn’t say. Well? What should I tell her?”
    “Where and when was she thinking?”
    “She was thinking you could choose a restaurant. Name a time and place and she’ll fly down to meet you.”
    “Just like that? She’s going to hop on a plane just like that?”
    “Dr. Walker, do you want to meet with Dr. Townsend or not?”
    Christopher sighed.
Of course I do
. “Tell her to meet me at Crabby Bill’s on St. Pete Beach. It’s a fairly well-known restaurant, so she shouldn’t have any trouble finding it.”
    “Crabby Bill’s. And what day and time, Dr. Walker?”
    “Saturday night? Seven?”
    “I’ll tell her. She’ll meet you there.”
    It was . . . surreal, Christopher thought as he hung up the phone. And the timing . . . On one hand it couldn’t have been better. On the other, it couldn’t have been worse.
    “Daddy?” He turned to find Megan wearing a frown. “Is everything okay?”
    “Everything’s fine, honey. That didn’t have anything to do with Darrell or the trouble at school.” He was unwilling to tell his daughter about Emma Wilson’s visit. He’d purposely stayed