Lost Loves (Secrets of Mackinac Island Book 4)

by Katie Winters

  Silence filled the space between them.

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Elise told him. “And I’m headed back to Los Angeles shortly. I guess I came, and I saw what I wanted to see. I found some kind of truth, and then I figured out how much that truth actually didn’t matter. It’s a weird sensation, for sure, but...”

  Elise and Wayne studied each other for a long time. Finally, Elise said, “Why is Tracey here?”

  Wayne shrugged. “She wants to talk to you. If you’ll let her.”

  Elise’s heart jumped around her chest. “What did you tell her?”

  “Hardly anything,” Wayne said. “It’s your business. Not mine.”

  Again, it seemed there wasn’t anything to say. Wayne’s face looked pained. Elise wondered what she would think of him years from now. He would surely just be a blip in her life. She hoped she would remember the better parts, the shared laughs on his couch, the time out on the sailboat. I was just another girl in a long stream of girls in his life.

  Suddenly, Tracey appeared in the doorway that led out to the porch. Elise and Tracey made eye contact and held it for a long time. Wayne shifted uncomfortably.

  “Do you mind if we talk for a while, Wayne?” Tracey asked.

  Wayne shifted his fingers through his dark curls.

  He’s more handsome than ever.

  I wonder if he feels the slightest bit of the pain that I feel.

  But it has to be over. Whatever it is.

  “Of course,” Wayne said. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  He nodded a final time toward Elise. “I guess if I don’t see you have a good trip back to California.”

  “Thanks,” Elise said.

  This is really how it ends.

  But I have to protect myself.

  “Elise Darby,” Tracey said as she approached, passing by Wayne and sitting at the edge of the little bench. She folded her arms over her chest and beamed up at her. “When I first met you at my boutique, I thought to myself—a more beautiful woman I’ve never seen in my life.”

  Elise remembered it. She’d had the biggest friend-crushes on Tracey, on Anna, and the rest of their friend group.

  “You were so welcoming to me,” Elise breathed.

  “But you must have known that I was a Swartz,” Tracey affirmed. “It’s why you came into the boutique that day.”

  Elise shook her head. “I didn’t. There’s no way to prove it, I guess. But I had only just learned Dean Swartz’s name. I...” She pressed her lips together. “Maybe I can just show you.”

  Elise led Tracey up to her bedroom, where she removed the old photo of Dean Swartz, on the set of Somewhere in Time.

  Tracey chuckled as she took the photo. “That’s Dad, all right. Look at how handsome he was. It’s almost painful to look at it, you know? Just how youthful he was. Just how hopeful.”

  “I found it at the library,” Elise said as she leaned against the desk. “I knew it was him right away because he looks strikingly like my son, Brad.”

  Tracey’s eyes turned slowly toward Elise’s. “Alex would kill me if he knew that I was giving you the time of day, you know.”

  “Oh, I know,” Elise said. “So, why are you?”

  Trace shrugged. “Boredom, maybe. Curiosity. Wayne told me to just give you five minutes of my time. He said, ‘Maybe she’s a con artist, but if she is, she’s one of the better ones in the world.’”

  Elise chuckled at that. “As if Wayne has had much interaction with con artists.”

  Tracey laughed. “He does think he’s a whole lot smarter than he is, doesn’t he? But he’s handsome. Means he can get away with murder.”

  Elise’s smile fell.

  “Obviously, you feel the same?”

  “Felt, I guess,” Elise said. “But like I said. It doesn’t matter.”

  Tracey flipped the photo back and forth absently. “Your mother told you about my father, then?”

  Elise shook her head. “She kept him hidden my entire life. I had no idea until now. It was only when she died a few weeks ago that I discovered her diary from that summer.”

  Tracey’s face shifted. She fell against the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry to hear that. We lost my mother two years ago. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over that monster-sized hole in my heart. I still have dreams about her. Still make a move to call her in the middle of the day... just about random things. She had really good style, and she helped me with a lot at the boutique.”

  Elise closed her eyes for a long time. “I know it must be difficult and strange for you, hearing that I’m accusing your father of what he did.”

  Tracey laughed slightly. “It’s not like we had anything to do with all that. They were just kids, right? Twenty-something. Looks like you’re a bit younger than all of us. If it’s all true, then Dad probably wanted to escape the prison he had created for himself. Three kids—a wife who was angry that he worked so often and of course...” Her eyes grew hazy.

  “Alex’s cancer,” Elise added.

  Tracey’s face looked puzzled. “You know about that.”

  Elise nodded. “It’s in my mother’s diary. It’s apparently the reason she decided to keep her pregnancy a secret.”

  Tracey’s lower lip trembled slightly. Slowly, she stood, looking at Elise with a much different expression.

  “I don’t know what to do with any of this,” Tracey said, her voice cracking.

  “Me neither,” Elise said. “I’ve never had a family outside of my mother and my twins.”

  “That makes me even sadder,” Tracey admitted. “I truly believe that everyone should be forced to put up with all the turmoil of having a family.”

  Silence fell between them. Slowly, Tracey turned toward the balcony and stepped back into the light autumn breeze. Elise joined her.

  “Alex was sick for a long, long time,” Tracey said, speaking wistfully. “I think the stress of it nearly killed my parents. Mom calculated it once. She and Alex spent over a year in total in hospitals. She slept at his bedside all the time, watching over him. I think for that reason, Mom’s death has destroyed Alex even more than it got to the rest of us. He’s gotten even crueler, even angrier over the previous two years.”

  “That’s really understandable,” Elise said.

  Tracey made a small noise in her throat. “I don’t know. I have a hunch that your mother’s death hasn’t made you a cruel person unless my brother’s right about the fire at Willow Grove.”

  Elise furrowed her brow. Before she could answer, however, Tracey laughed again and added, “I don’t believe it for a second. You had no idea what kind of mess you walked into. That’s pretty clear. But you don’t have a mean bone in your body.”

  Elise’s eyes felt heavy, on the verge of tears. She snuck back into the bedroom, grabbed her mother’s diary, and returned, lifting it as some kind of proof.

  “When I first read about my father, I fell in love with this story I had never heard about my mother,” Elise told her. Her voice cracked a bit. “All our lives, it was just the two of us. I didn’t have siblings. I didn’t have a father. She didn’t introduce me to anyone she dated until I was an adult. With this diary, I thought maybe I could find new pieces of her. Uncrack the code of my mother a bit more.”

  Silence fell between them again. Tracey’s smile grew slowly.

  “You missed so much,” she whispered.

  Elise tilted her head, surprised at Tracey’s words.

  “What do you mean?”

  Tracey turned back toward the door. “You don’t have a ferry ticket booked yet, do you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because I want to spend the day with you, if you’ll have me,” she said. “I’ve always been the younger sister. Maybe I want to act the part of a big sister, if only for one day before you go.”

  Elise stuttered slightly. “You really don’t have to do anything. I don’t want to be any more of a burden.”

  Tracey’s smile was electric now. “We�
�ve spent all our lives apart. I think a few hours together won’t hurt either of us.”

  Chapter Six

  The call from Michael came around ten minutes after Wayne left the Bloomingfeld.

  Wayne looked at the name—at one time so familiar on his phone and felt a stab of sadness and flickers of memories. In the old days, Michael had called him every few days after his work shifts, asking for a drink on the porch, a companion for a horseback ride, or an afternoon on Wayne’s sailboat.

  In all the years since Michael had left, Michael hadn’t called Wayne a single time. Obviously, Wayne had dialed the number a few times in the first weeks after Michael’s disappearance, to no avail. Michael hadn’t wanted to be found.

  After the fourth ring, Wayne lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Hello?”

  Maybe in the old days, he would have started with a joke. Right now, he wanted to tread carefully, so as not to startle Michael away again.

  “Hey, Wayne.”

  Silence fell between them. Wayne unzipped his jacket, suddenly warm, and jammed his free hand in his pocket.

  “What’s up, man?” Wayne asked finally.

  Michael cleared his throat. “Thanks again for meeting me at the house last night. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”

  Wayne blinked back tears. He didn’t want to say what he really wanted to say: I’m so glad you’re back. Where have you been? You nearly killed us when you left.

  “Anyway, I wondered if you wanted to head out on the sailboat,” Michael said. “I haven’t been out on the water like that in three years. It would be nice to catch up.”

  Wayne could hardly believe it. He hadn’t expected Michael to reach out like this already.

  “That sounds great. I can meet you down by the docks in ten minutes,” Wayne said.

  “I’m on a hike by Arch Rock. I’ll head that way.”

  Wayne walked toward the docks, his pulse quick. He paused next to The Grind to peer in, make sure it was up to snuff. Only two people sat inside, one with a laptop and another with a book. A barista swiped at the counter with a washcloth. Back when he and Tara had decided to open The Grind, she had told him it couldn’t be a forever thing. “This is what we’ll do to make money for a while, and then we’ll travel the world together,” she’d said, her bright eyes electric with excitement.

  When Wayne reached his sailboat, the Tara, he found Michael already stationed beside it, his hands stuffed in his windbreaker pockets. Out in the grey light of the early afternoon, Wayne was allowed a better picture of the guy than he’d had last night. He was gaunt, hard-edged, and his eyes remained shadowed and almost afraid. Years before, they’d been mischievous, alive.

  “Hey there,” Wayne said. He forced his voice to be chipper.

  Michael stuck out a hand, which Wayne shook. All he wanted in the world was to hug this kid. He probably hadn’t hugged him since Tara’s funeral. What was it Michael had said at the wake? “She didn’t deserve this. Why didn’t we go with her? Why weren’t we there? We were always there. It should have been us.”

  It should have been us.

  Obviously, that had stuck with Wayne over the years, as he’d grappled with guilt and rage and the all-encompassing sadness.

  “How was the hike?” Wayne asked as he swung a leg out onto the boat.

  “Good. Nothing like those autumn leaves,” Michael said. “And now that Mom wants to feed me every five minutes, I guess I’ll have to go on a whole lot more hikes to keep myself fit.”

  “I guess you’re just going to have to let her dote on you for a while,” Wayne said with a friendly laugh. “At least, as long as you feel like sticking around.”

  Michael didn’t make eye contact. He followed Wayne’s lead and got the sailboat ready, performing the same tasks Wayne had taught him when Michael had been twelve or thirteen. Back then, Michael had had his first few real spats with his father and mother and had retreated to Tara and Wayne with complete adoration.

  In no time flat, Wayne and Michael had the boat out on the water. The crisp wind whipped across Wayne’s cheeks, knife-like and chilly. Waves surged across the sides of the boat and licked at the bottom of the word, Tara. Wayne finally got up the courage to glance at Michael, who had his chin lifted and his eyes closed, totally enjoying the feel of the air, the water, and the smells that wafted around them of the island itself.

  “What does it feel like?” Wayne asked finally.

  Michael opened his eyes only slightly. “What exactly?”

  “To see Mack after so many years away,” Wayne said. “I’ve never spent more than a few weeks off the island at any one time. Even when I went to school as a kid off the island, we still came over to the island all the time. I know in my heart and mind that the place is beautiful, but I no longer see it the same way. It’s all I know.”

  Michael considered this for a long time. Finally, he sighed and said, “It feels like home.”

  Wayne’s heart surged with love.

  They sailed toward the Mackinac Bridge without speaking. The large bridge was five miles across, a sturdy monster high over the top of them, and a true feat to sail beneath. Michael clucked his tongue as they went under and then gave Wayne a big smile.

  “I know you’re burning with questions,” he said.

  “Me? No way,” Wayne said playfully.

  “Mom won’t stop. Every few minutes, she comes over to me with a sandwich or a bag of chips or something and says, ‘You know, you can tell me anything.’ As if it would be that easy...”

  “She just missed you so much is all,” Wayne said. We all did.

  “I get that.” Michael palmed the back of his neck. “I just can’t explain it all in a few words, you know? As I lived that life, I didn’t question it. But I know rehashing it out to Mom will create a whole lot of chaos.”

  Wayne laughed. “That’s your mother, I guess. She was always on fire about something, especially when it came to you.”

  “I always thought her and dad hated me,” Michael said. “I’m old enough now to understand that that wasn’t what it was. I just...” He bit hard on his lower lip, seemingly unsure of how to approach what he said next.

  Wayne let the silence creep on. He wasn’t sure he wanted so desperately to dip into Tara territory. The whole situation felt like the sun. He didn’t want to stare at it too long.

  They continued west, away from the bridge, away from the island. At one point, Michael grabbed his backpack and opened it to bring out a box of Joann’s Fudge.

  “What you got there?” Wayne said.

  Michael wagged his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t quit that sweet tooth of yours.”

  “And you’ve been on the island less than twenty-four hours and have already suited yourself up with some fudge.”

  Michael shrugged as he lifted a little square of peanut butter goodness, dropped it on his tongue, and chewed slowly. “They don’t make fudge like that anywhere else.”

  “Anywhere else like...” Wayne said sneakily.

  Michael shook his head and passed the box of fudge. Wayne collected a chocolate raspberry one, nibbled at the edge, and nearly lost his mind as his taste buds exploded.

  “I haven’t had fudge in a while,” he confessed.

  “I can tell. You’ve been hard at work in the gym,” Michael said, lifting his own arm and pretending to flex. “Mom says you’ve really lived the past few years.”

  Wayne’s smile fell. He sat at the edge of the boat and stared at the half-eaten fudge between his fingers. “Your mom isn’t so happy with me about that.”

  Michael coughed. “I don’t know what else she expected you to do. You’re still young. You were given one of the worst situations in the world. And... well...” He shrugged.

  “I never wanted to be the island bachelor or anything,” Wayne said. “And I feel like the gossip got out of hand. There’s no way it was ever as bad as people say.”

  “Mackinac fuels itself on gossip. You know that,” Michael s
aid. “I generated enough gossip for a few months just today by walking down Main Street and letting a few folks see me. You should have heard them. “Was that really Michael Clemmens? Where has he been? I figured he was dead.”

  “Nobody knows how to stay in their own business. It’s true,” Wayne said. He clapped his hand across his thigh and said, “Which is why I know better than to pester you about all that you’ve gone through. I’m just...” He paused for a second, and then forced himself to say it. “I’m just really glad to see you, Mike. It’s been way too long.”

  Michael’s eyes grew stormy. He took another bite of fudge and held it in the air so that the grey light reflected off the glittering sugar.

  “When Tara died, I was already having a little bit of trouble with myself, with my life,” Michael said. “I wasn’t sure which direction I was headed. Tara’s death was the biggest reminder of the randomness of all of this, at least for me. And I couldn’t go back to your house, the way I always had. I could hardly look you in the eye. The island felt too small. The world felt too cruel. I just had to escape.”

  Wayne finished his fudge, clasped his hands together, and studied the water.

  “I know that isn’t enough for you,” Michael said. “And I don’t blame you if you don’t trust me or even if you hate me for leaving.”

  Wayne’s eyes snapped back toward Michael’s. “That’s ridiculous. I could never hate you. Never in a million years. Tara and I talked about you; we loved you and supported you in all things. I know she wanted the world for you. And maybe... maybe, you went out and found the world.”

  Wayne gave Michael a mischievous smile.

  After another pause, Michael rubbed his eye. Wayne wondered if he, too, was on the verge of tears.

  “You know, I heard you guys talking last night on the porch,” Michael said.

  “Sneaky.”

  Michael shrugged. “It’s an old house. Me and Megan could always hear what was happening downstairs. It’s how we used to sneak out when we were kids. Anyway, Aunt Tracey said something about this woman... a woman who might be related to us?”