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    Cassidy was bookended between Russ Haskell and Mitch Kilborn, two jocks he’d gone to school with. Time had been less kind to them, each of them looking at least a decade older than they were, especially with the premature silver flocking the tips of Mitch’s bangs and sideburns.
    Emma had ducked from under Cassidy’s arm, then slipped away from her aunt and grandmother. She made a beeline for the dessert table and was stuffing an assortment of cookies into her purse, starting at the far side of the dessert table and gradually making her way to the right, focusing only on the smaller cookies, apparently going with quantity over quality.
    Emma looked almost exactly the same as her mother at age nine. Another ghost which tore at Jon’s heart.
    She looked so sad, and almost angelic in her innocence. He laughed as Emma stuffed cookies into her tiny purple purse, and thought of the way he often couldn’t help but shove matchbooks, mints, or toothpicks into his pocket, whenever he was leaving a restaurant, whether he’d ever use them or not. Jon wondered where the girl’s father was, or if she even knew who her father was.
    Sarah had gotten pregnant after she broke up with Jon, the result of a fling she had to supposedly “get over him.”
    It had been almost 10 years ago when he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. He was on the set of his first movie, when he got drunk and slept with a model. It was the first time he’d ever been unfaithful to Sarah, who had, to that point, been the only girl he’d even gone out with. He confessed what he did. At first, he thought they’d get past it. She said she’d forgiven him. Then a week later, she called him, while he was back on the set, and said she couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t stop thinking of his betrayal. It was over.
    He tried to make things right, but she refused to take his calls, refused to see him, and even ignored emails and letters he sent to her via verified mail. About five weeks after they broke up, Cassidy called Jon and said to stop calling Sarah, that he was making her miserable.
    And that was that. He went on with his life. And she went on with hers, apparently getting knocked up along the way.
    He’d heard from an old friend about Sarah getting pregnant, and had heard rumors about different men who might be the father, including a waiter, a visitor to the island during tourist season, and even another teacher. Whoever it was didn’t stick around, and left her high and dry.
    Jon had considered reaching out to offer help if Sarah needed it. But by then, it had been so long, and she seemed to be getting along fine on her own with help from her sister and mother. Jon didn’t want to cause her any more stress by popping back into her life.
    Now, as he watched Emma, he felt his heart break. The child had no mother or father. She was an orphan, all alone in the world, save for a drunk grandma and a pill-popping aunt.
    When Emma was just a few feet away, Jon couldn’t take it any longer. He took one long, final sip of his coffee, set it on the large tray with the rest of the empties, then went to the edge of the dessert table, picked up the largest, fattest cookie he could find, and kneeled next to Emma.
    “I think you’re missing out on these,” he said, holding up a slightly larger cookie. “They look just big enough to be truly delicious.”
    The girl looked up at him, then narrowed her eyes as she studied the cookie. She shook her head. “Nope, that one has peanut butter in it. I don’t like peanut butter. Especially in my cookies.”
    Jon looked at the cookie, noting the telltale ridges of peanut butter rippling across the surface, then back at Emma. “Hmmm, you know, I think you’re right. I didn’t even notice.” He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I don’t like peanut butter, either.”
    Still kneeling, Jon gestured toward the table. “Which of these would you suggest?”
    Emma smiled, tiny but there, then