The View From Alameda Island. Robyn Carr

paid for a table. This was one of the few times during the year that Lauren visited with Brad’s colleagues. And while Brad might be primarily fond of Andy’s assets, Lauren thought the seventy-five-year-old Emerson and his wife of almost fifty years, Sylvie, were very nice people. It’s not as though Brad and Lauren were invited over to dinner or out for a spin on the yacht—the Emersons were very busy, involved people. However, it was not unusual for Brad to get a call from some member of the Emerson family or a family friend with questions about an upcoming medical procedure or maybe looking for a recommendation of a good doctor.

      Just as she was thinking about them, Sylvie Emerson broke away from the men she was chatting with and moved over to Lauren. She gave her one of those cheek presses. “I’m so happy to see you,” Sylvie said. “I think it’s been a year.”

      “I saw you at Christmastime in the city,” Lauren reminded her. “You’re looking wonderful, Sylvie. I don’t know how you do it.”

      “Thank you. It took a lot of paste and paint. But you’re aglow. How are the girls?”

      “Thriving. Lacey is doing her post-grad study at Stanford so we see her fairly often. Cassidy graduates in about six weeks.”

      “UC Berkeley, isn’t it?” Sylvie asked. “What’s her field?”

      Lauren chuckled. “Pre-law. She’s scored beautifully on the LSAT and is bound for Harvard.”

      “Oh my God. Are you thrilled for her?”

      “I don’t know yet,” Lauren said. “Don’t you have to be a real tiger to take on law? Cassie seems so gentle-natured to me.”

      Sylvie patted her arm. “There is a special place within the legal system for someone like her. I don’t know where, but she’ll find it. And no one chose medicine?”

      Lauren shook her head. “I’m a little surprised about that, since I have a science major as well. Though it’s been so long ago now that—”

      She was distracted by a man who had been pressing his way through the crowd with two drinks and suddenly stopped. “Lauren?” he said. Then he smiled and those dark blue eyes twinkled. “I’ll be damned.”

      “Beau?” she asked. “What in the world are you doing here?”

      “Same as you, I suppose,” he said. Then he looked at Sylvie and said, “Hi, I’m Beau Magellan. I just recently ran into Lauren at church.”

      Lauren laughed at that. “Not exactly, but close enough. Beau, this is Sylvie Emerson, your hostess tonight.”

      “Oh!” he said, sloshing the drinks. “Oh jeez,” he mumbled. Finally, laughing, Lauren took his drinks so he could shake Sylvie’s hand...after wiping his hands on his trousers. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Emerson. I’m personally indebted to you!”

      “How so, Mr. Magellan?”

      “My sons have a friend whose dad was killed on the job, Oakland police, and she received a scholarship. Now I’m a big supporter of the cause.”

      “Magellan,” Sylvie said. “Why does that sound familiar?”

      “I have no idea,” he said, chuckling. “I’m sure our paths wouldn’t have crossed. Magellan Design is my company. It’s not a big company...”

      She snapped her fingers. “You designed a rooftop garden for my friend, Lois Brumfield in Sausalito!”

      He beamed. “I did. I’m very proud of that, too—it’s incredible.”

      Sylvie looked at Lauren. “The Brumfields are getting up there... Aren’t we all... And they have a single-story home in Sausalito. They didn’t have any interest in a two-story anything, their knees are giving out. So they put the garden on the roof! And they have a lift! They sit up there any evening the weather will allow. It’s gorgeous! They have gardeners tend their roof!” Sylvie laughed. “They have a patio on the ground floor as well, nice pool and all that. But that rooftop garden is like their secret space. And the house is angled just right so it’s private. From there they have an amazing view.”

      “There’s a hot tub,” Beau said. “And a few potted trees in just the right places.”

      “Really, if the Brumfields had more friends, you’d be famous!”

      “They have you,” Beau said.

      “Oh, I’ve known Lois since I was in college. She’s outlasted most of my family!” Then she looked at Lauren. “Church?”

      Lauren laughed. She put Beau’s drinks on the table she stood beside. “I stopped to see the gardens at Divine Redeemer Catholic Church—they’re beautiful. And they’re right on my way home. Beau was replacing a few plants. I thought he was the groundskeeper.” She made a face at him.

      “I love the grounds and I’ve known the priest there for a long time,” Beau said. “I gave them an updated design and got them a discount on plants.”

      “Do you have a card, Mr. Magellan?” Sylvie asked.

      “I do,” he said. He pulled one out of his inside jacket pocket. “And please, call me Beau.”

      “Thank you,” she said, sliding it into her slender purse. “And of course, I’m Sylvie. Lauren, the weather is getting nice. If I give you a call, will you come to my house, have lunch in my garden? Just you and me?”

      “I would love that,” she said. “Please do call! I’ll bring you a plant!”

      “I’ll call. Very nice meeting you, Beau. Excuse me please. I have to try to say hello to people.”

      And that fast she was gone.

      Lauren looked at Beau. “What am I going to do with you? Met me at church, did you?”

      “In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Seeing you here is even more startling.”

      “We’re big supporters,” she said. “See that bald guy over there? With Andy? My husband.”

      “Hm,” he said. “He’s friends with the host? Andy Emerson?”

      “He believes so,” she said. “Like I said, big supporter. Do you play golf?”

      “I know how,” Beau said. “I don’t know that you could say I play, in all honesty.”

      “That’s right,” she said, laughing. “You read psychology. And fish. And garden.” She glanced at the drinks. “Should you get those drinks back to your table?”

      “They weren’t dehydrated last time I looked. They’re signing up for auction items.”

      “It’s possible we have friends in common,” she said. “My brother-in-law is an Oakland cop. I remember a fatality a couple of years ago.”

      “Roger Stanton,” Beau said. “Did you know him?”

      She shook her head. “Did you know him?”

      “No, but the boys know the kids. You’ll have to ask your brother-in-law...”

      “Oh, Chip knew him. Even though it’s a big department, they’re all friends. It was heartbreaking. I’m so glad his daughter is a recipient.” She nodded toward the drinks. “You should probably get those drinks back to your wife...”

      He shook his head. “She’s not here tonight. I brought my boys, my brother and sister-in-law and a friend.”

      “But not your wife?” she asked.

      “Pamela finds this sort of thing boring and the friend I brought is a guy. But I don’t find things like this boring. So tell me, what are you doing Tuesday?”

      “What are you doing?” she asked.

      “I’m going to check on the plants, maybe hoe around a little bit. H-O-E,” he specified, making her laugh. “I’m going