by Davis, Mary
He smiled mischievously and slipped the camera back into his pocket.
Next came Devil’s Kitchen, another rock formation gouged out of the cliff side. As soon as he pulled the camera from his pocket, she snatched it from him with a smile. “My turn. You stand over there.”
He pressed a button on top of the camera. The lens on the front opened and motored out. He pointed to the view screen on the back. “Look here and press this button.” He strode to the concave depression in the cliff and waited with a roguish smile.
She pressed the button but wasn’t sure if it took. “How do I look at it?”
Garth came over and turned a knob. The picture she’d taken appeared on the little screen. It was hard to tell if it was good, but Garth said, “You should be a photographer.”
“I don’t think so.”
“A model then.”
She let out a rush of breath and placed the camera in his hand.
“No. You should, really,” he said. “I’ll show you the other pictures.”
“I’ll pass.” She climbed back onto the bike with her hands inside the sweatshirt sleeves.
He climbed on behind her. “They’re good. They all have you in them.”
“That’s why I’ll pass.”
He directed her to pull over by some trees between the road and the water. He took her hand and pulled her toward a stone marker. “This is where they met.”
The marker had a picture of the scene of the first meeting of Richard and Elise, the main characters in Somewhere in Time. The movie had piqued her interest in the island, but it was the island itself that was wooing her to love it.
“Would you take our picture?” She heard Garth say and turned around. He stood with a couple who had stopped their bicycles.
The man said, “If you return the favor.”
Garth handed the man his camera and came to stand next to her. She looked up at him sideways. He knew she wouldn’t protest with others present. Careful, girl, or you’ll lose your heart to him.
“Okay. Now smile.” The man pressed the button. “That should be great.”
Garth took their picture next. The couple thanked them and climbed on their bikes and rode away. She and Garth rode in the other direction.
Garth leaned forward near her ear. “See that brick building coming up on the left?”
Beyond the playground equipment a long red-brick building stretched from that road to the one above. She nodded.
“That’s the island school. My roommate from college, Will Tobin, teaches there.”
That was a school? It looked like a school, but she hadn’t thought about people possibly living on the island all year. Why not? A car-less world. It would be a great place to live.
They ended up back in town as Garth said they would, and he gave her directions to the Butterfly House.
❧
The Butterfly House was a converted old house. Garth hadn’t been there before. In the lobby Lorelei went straight to the large display window with hundreds of chrysalides hung on stair-step rungs. Were they alive or just a display? Some of the silken cocoons were empty; then he noticed a couple of butterflies hanging onto newly vacated dwellings, drying their wings.
Lorelei drew in a quick breath. “They’re real.”
From behind them a voice said, “There are actual caterpillar farms.”
He and Lorelei turned to the older man behind the counter.
“We get about five hundred chrysalides a week packed in crushproof containers and hang them just like they would be on a tree. Once the butterflies emerge and dry their wings, we put them in the hothouse with the others. They live only about fourteen days.”
Garth followed Lorelei over to the counter, and when she gazed up at him he had to catch his breath.
“I want to go in. My treat.”
He forced air into his lungs and held up his hand. “I’ve got it.” He pulled out his wallet and paid. They each received a large round butterfly sticker for their shirts that would grant them readmittance as often as they liked that day.
He pulled back the heavy clear plastic strips hanging in the doorway to barricade the delicate insects within. Lorelei stepped inside, and he followed. It was probably a good twenty degrees warmer in there, so he pulled off his sweatshirt and took out his camera in case he could sneak a picture.
They moved along the short meandering path through the bright flowers and green bushes. Time touched nothing inside these walls; it was like an eternal summer. He liked all the seasons, but summer held a special fondness for him; he’d first seen Lorelei in the summer, and she had returned at the end of summer.
He watched her survey the room of fluttering butterflies and snapped a couple of pictures without her knowing. They turned the first corner in the brick path.
Lorelei rushed to a blue metal bench. “Look! It’s shaped like a giant butterfly.”
He raised his camera, and surprisingly she let him take her picture. They walked past the miniature waterfall fountain, and a butterfly lit on the sticker on Lorelei’s sweatshirt. He raised his camera as she turned to look down at the yellow butterfly, but it flew away.
As they wound toward the end and were watching the iridescent blue butterflies fluttering in the corner, a lighter blue butterfly landed on Lorelei’s bangs. Garth slowly raised his camera. “Don’t move.” He snapped the picture as Lorelei was looking up through her bangs at the butterfly; then it flew away.
“Look.” She pointed to her pant leg. A brown owl butterfly was holding onto her jeans.
He took another picture, and even when Lorelei walked around, it wouldn’t give up its hold.
When they were ready to exit, Garth gently blew on a butterfly that sat on Lorelei’s shoulder. It flew away, and Lorelei smiled up at him. The one on her leg would not let go even when she shook her leg repeatedly. Garth found an employee to help because the signs instructed them not to touch the butterflies.
A lanky red-haired man looked at the owl butterfly and said, “Time to get off. These nice people want to leave.”
The butterfly didn’t move. “I guess he’s not listening,” Lorelei said.
The guy smacked his forehead with his palm. “I forgot. They don’t have ears.” He pinched the butterfly between the lengths of his index and middle fingers and plucked it off then walked away.
Garth held back the plastic in the doorway at the other end of the path for Lorelei. They both stepped into the mirror room where they looked at all sides of themselves for stowaways.
In the gift shop Lorelei bought a fuzzy pen with a butterfly on the end. They collected their tandem bike and rode back to the shop to return it.
“I can’t wait any longer. I want to go into some shops.” She headed for the nearest one.
Whatever the lady wanted. He followed behind. Everything about Mackinac was new to him through the delight of Lorelei’s eyes. He had visited the island so often, sometimes up to six times a summer, that the trips offered little that was fresh; but today was different.
He took her hand in his. She soon slipped her hand free to look at knickknacks. He watched as her face lit up with each new find. She settled on a mug with lilacs printed all the way around it and a Somewhere in Time sweatshirt. Though he offered to put her purchase in his backpack, she insisted on carrying it—in the hand between them. As she looked into another shop window to watch a confectioner cool fudge on a large marble table, he slipped around behind her and took her free hand. She seemed to be mesmerized by the process. The hot fudge was poured out onto a large marble table and worked into a long loaf-type shape down the center of the table until it cooled.
“This is my treat.” She went to the door.
He released her hand to open the door for her. She picked a traditional chocolate fudge, his favorite; a caramel-colored maple walnut fudge, another favorite; and a cherry almond fudge. Neapolitan in a little pink box.
Back on the sidewalk she held a bag now in each hand.
“I
can put those in my backpack.” That was, after all, the idea for bringing it.
“These aren’t heavy.”
He guessed that ruled out holding her hand. She was like a butterfly at rest; if he moved too fast, she would flutter away. What would she do if he acted on his daydream and took her in his arms and swung her around? He would caress back a stray lock and study every inch of her face. Then he would bend slowly to her waiting lips and give her a sweet, tender kiss.
She turned from the shop window she had been perusing and looked up at him. This was his opportunity. He could kiss her now, except for the slight pull of her eyebrows. Maybe he could kiss her concerns away.
She looked away. “I’m hungry.”
Even now he could reach out and run his fingers through her soft, silky hair. He had imagined how it felt a hundred times. The island could be a romantic place, but not for them, not today. Too bad. “There’s a restaurant across the street that looks good.”
❧
After lunch Lori took out the fudge, and they had a taste of each. Smooth and creamy.
The island seemed magical. Tranquil. No cars—just the clip-clop of horses walking by. She talked Garth into a few extra shops before they took a carriage tour to see more of the attractions. Their friendly guide, Haley, related information about the sights and stories of the people along with some history and even told a few island jokes. By the time the tour was over, the cloudy sky had broken forth with a light shower.
It wasn’t until she descended from the surrey that she realized her hip had been telling her it was going to rain. She had so enjoyed herself that she had forgotten about her bum hip. The pain bloomed all at once, nearly taking away her breath. She hobbled over next to the storefront under the awning out of the rain.
“You’re limping. Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was etched on his face, as well.
“I’m fine. I have a bad hip—the remains of the car accident I was in back in high school. I’ll be fine as soon as I take my medication.” She unzipped her waist pack and rooted around inside. Her little pillbox wasn’t there. “I forgot it!” She had changed clothes so many times that morning she had forgotten to pick it up from the counter.
“What is it?”
“It’s for inflammation.”
“I have something that might help.” He dropped his pack to the ground and pulled out a small first-aid kit. Like a Boy Scout he was prepared. She knew over-the-counter pills wouldn’t work as well as her prescription, but at least they would ease her discomfort so she could enjoy the rest of the day.
The wind rustled the fabric awning, protecting them from the rain, and blew a strand of hair across Lori’s face. As Garth brushed back the stray tendril, their gazes locked, and an indiscernible feeling passed between them. It was the same look he’d given her before she distracted him with lunch. She broke the trance before his blue gaze sucked her in.
They strolled past several shops before they entered the Island Bookstore. She bought three books on local history and a video of Somewhere in Time. She also purchased four novels, three of which took place on the island and one that had inspired the movie. In another shop she found a teapot that nearly matched her new lilac mug.
On the whole, she had enjoyed the day tremendously, but it was time for her to leave this dream spot. Her hip hurt more than before, so they took an earlier ferry than originally planned.
The ride was quiet as Lori dealt with the constant ache, an ever-present reminder of all she had lost. Garth kept glancing over at her, concerned. She suspected he drove faster than he should because of it.
❧
Garth parked in the driveway of her cottage and came around the truck to help her out, hooking his arm around her waist to support her. When she winced at each step, he decided, like it or not, to scoop her up in his arms. She didn’t resist and surprised him by resting her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry to be a bother to you.”
“You’re no bother.” He set her gently on the couch and got her medication and a glass of milk. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to bed, and in the morning I’ll be as good as new.”
He wondered about that and sat on the edge of the couch for a few minutes longer. Was she really all right? She had been in such pain. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll go bring in your stuff.”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Oh, Garth, I had a nice time today.”
He smiled back at her. “So did I.”
He returned a few minutes later with her bags of treasures and placed them on the table, adding his two sweaters. She needed them more than he did, and he had plenty of others.
Her eyes were closed, and she was lying so still. He crossed the room to the couch and noticed her even breathing. Could she be asleep so fast? He spread the blue-and-white-striped afghan from the back of the couch over her. She didn’t move. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and lightly kissed her brow.
She stirred then with a soft purr like a contented kitten. “Please, Lord, let me live on Mackinac Island.”
Did she mean to say that aloud? He studied her face. Or was she speaking her desires in her sleep?
He tiptoed out and locked the door behind him. He had never considered living on the island, but it would be a nice place to call home. He climbed in his SUV and drove to his cottage. He hadn’t planned to live in his parents’ place forever. Maybe it was time for a change.
He hooked the cord from his digital camera to the front of his computer. Soon the pictures of Lorelei he’d taken were before him. Was Mackinac the change he needed? He clicked on each picture one by one to enlarge them. It had been a good day for them with the exception of Lorelei’s hip hurting her. He’d wished he could take her pain upon himself, but he could only watch her suffer.
He clicked on the first picture of him and Lorelei at the Somewhere in Time marker. Apparently the man had taken a picture before Lorelei was facing the camera. Her head was cocked sideways looking up at him with that same disbelieving, impish look she had when he was trying to sell her on the fairy story at the fire. He clicked on the next picture of them by the marker. They looked like a regular happy couple. He would make this one into an eight-by-ten.
How did one go about living on Mackinac Island? He looked at his watch as he headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t too late to call. He opened his address book and dialed.
“Yo,” came a voice over the line.
“Will? This is Garth.”
“Hey, roomie. It’s been awhile. What’s up?”
Whenever he talked to Will, it was as if no time had passed. “I was on the island today and was thinking about you.”
“It’s pretty late in the season for you to come here.”
“There’s this gal—” He could feel a smile pull at his mouth.
“Say no more.”
“I would have called you, but I didn’t have your number with me. I wish I could have introduced you to her.”
“So you called to say I missed an opportunity to meet your girlfriend?”
“Not exactly.” He would skip the part about Lorelei not being his girlfriend yet. “I was wondering how hard it would be for a guy like me to get a job on the island.”
Will made a noise halfway between a chuckle and a snort.
“I’m not talking about the school. Those jobs are probably sealed tight. But is there anything else you think I could do?”
“You aren’t quitting teaching, are you?”
He turned and leaned against the counter. “No, but I figure a teaching job on the island would be impossible. If something comes up, would you let me know?”
“You’re serious.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if I am or not. I’m just knocking around some ideas. I’ll probably end up living the rest of my life in my parents’ cottage. I should consider buying it from them.”
“Well, this past Wednesday my teaching partner was in a bad mood, snapping at everyone, so I gave her a wide path all day.”
Why was Will telling him about his frustrations with his coworker?
“Then on Thursday she came in giddy and weird. I wasn’t sure if I should ask her what was up. Didn’t need to. She blurted out that she was pregnant. She and her husband have been trying for years.”
Garth pushed away from the counter. “And she’s not coming back.”
“You’re ruining my story.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re about as sorry as a cat in a barrel of mice. She hasn’t told the school yet; I’m one of the privileged few who know. She’s waiting until she’s further along before announcing it—to make sure she doesn’t lose the baby. So don’t go calling the school asking about her position. Send me your resumé, and when the job is officially open, I’ll submit it.”
“What do you think my chances would be?” He twisted the phone cord around his hand.
“I’ll give you my endorsement and talk you up. Since I know you, that might weigh heavily with the hiring board. It’s no guarantee, but I’d say your chances are pretty good.”
After they talked awhile longer, Garth hung up. His chances would be good. Is that what he wanted? He glanced around the main living area. He was comfortable here, but was he supposed to stay here? Lord, is this an open door? Show me what to do. Where do You want me to be?
Eight
Tuesday afternoon Garth knocked on Lorelei’s door a little louder but still no answer. He tapped the small photo book he had bought in town on his palm. It had a picture of a sunset over water on it and was perfect for the Mackinac pictures he had printed for her.
Her purple grape was parked in the driveway so she couldn’t have gone far—maybe for a walk or down on the beach. He walked around to the back of the building and past the deck. She sat at the picnic table staring out across the lake with her notebook open in front of her.
“Howdy, neighbor,” he called as he approached. “I have something for you.”
He noticed her stiffen and quickly wipe her face with her hands before turning to greet him with a forced smile. His own smile slipped to concern. Her eyes were red and puffy. He hurried his last few steps.
