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Wayne had heard the news from Michael. Elise, Tracey, and Cindy had gone to Mackinaw City to get a DNA test through a professional laboratory.
She’d finally find out the truth.
Good for her.
I guess.
Truthfully, since Wayne had run into that horrible Californian Matt and Elise at the Pink Pony, he had felt a little weak, reckless, and volatile. He was short with customers. He was even finicky with Michael, digging into him about what he wore to work, how he responded to questions, or even how many beers he drank when they watched a ball game together late into the night.
“You really need to get your mind off this girl,” Michael said. “Or it’s going to ruin you.”
It was a surprise when Wayne received the invitation from Dean Swartz. As was Dean’s way, the invitation was on nice paper, scrawled in his lovely handwriting.
Wayne,
When I saw you at my daughter, Cindy’s, the other night, it occurred to me just how long it’s been since the two of us sat side-by-side and had one of our classic life chats. I wonder if you’d like to join me this evening for one?
As Wayne read the note again, Michael ambled past him and recognized the handwriting. “What does that old fogey want with you this time?”
Wayne rolled his eyes. “You really should get to know your grandfather better. He’s one of the best people I’ve met in this world.”
Michael didn’t seem pleased at this answer. He muttered to himself and disappeared into the kitchen to prep croissants.
Wayne dressed in a button-down shirt, a pair of nice jeans, and donned his winter coat that evening. The autumn weather had produced a strange and sinister chill, one that suggested approaching snowfall. He hustled up toward Pontiac Trail Head with a six-pack of beer in his gloved hand, ready for the warmth of that house and, especially, a night not living in the chaos of his own head.
Dean’s housekeeper prepared beef stew, homemade bread, and Brussels sprouts. As Wayne sat across from him at the cozy dining room table, Dean updated Wayne on the events of his day: the meetings he’d taken, the little spat he had gotten into with Alex, that sort of thing.
“I think Alex has grown even more irritable in the past few weeks,” Dean said, heaving a sigh. “When I mentioned to him that you would be around at Cindy’s, he nearly... well.” He shifted in his chair, seeming to second-guess his words. “I don’t think I could have guessed how jealous he would have become of you due to our close relationship. I’m sorry if that ever put you in a strange position.”
“It’s not a problem,” Wayne said. “And to be honest with you, Alex just helped me out in a pretty big way. He told me something that I wouldn’t have known otherwise. I guess that’s the thing about this island, isn’t it? We’re always there for each other no matter what.”
Dean lifted his beer and squinted at Wayne. “I suppose so. But that leads me to my next question. I know you’ve spent a good deal of time with Elise Darby.”
“Just a bit. I really haven’t seen much of her lately. I have a feeling she’ll be headed off the island soon.”
“I see.” Dean sipped his beer contemplatively. “I realized how much that whole thing scared me. Realized that I didn’t want to face a reality in which I might have wronged that beautiful woman, Allison.”
Wayne’s heart hung low in his chest. He didn’t want to feel bad for Elise. He didn’t want to feel anything for her anymore.
“I went to spend some time with her, and I couldn’t get over it. The little details make her so much like her mother. There’s a little dimple in her cheek when she laughs a little too loudly. She’s whip-smart and funny, and she’s eager to know more and more about this island. The fact that she’s stayed, that she gets along so well with you, with Tracey, with Cindy...” He shook his head as he smiled wider. “I suppose I got to a stage in my life when I thought all the blessings had already happened to me. But now, I might have a new daughter. I might have some forty-two years to make up for the fact that I wasn’t around. That’s enormous. And I have to welcome that if she wants that kind of relationship, as well.”
Wayne heaved a sigh. He hated how close he was to the situation—hated that he had been the very first person Elise had ever informed about her search.
Wayne rubbed his eyes and, surprising even himself, said, “What was it like? Falling in love with someone who wasn’t your wife?”
Why did I ask him that?
Dean pondered this for a long time. Again, he sipped his beer and brought his spoon through the bottom of his beef stew.
“It felt like freedom from a prison I thought I had built for myself. I know that sounds awful,” he said. “But I never really knew if Mandy was... my soul mate. We met in high school. Back then, it was kind of expected that you had to get married at nineteen if you were in love at eighteen. At least, in my suburb of Chicago, it was like that. Before we knew what hit us, we had three kids—Cindy, then Tracey, then Alex. I was working as a stagehand. I had dreams of doing that forever or even opening up my own theater.”
“No way,” Wayne said, surprising himself again with a laugh.
“I know it must sound crazy to you,” Dean said. “But I was an idealistic SOB.”
“And then you got the call to come to Mackinac.”
“That’s right,” Dean said, nodding. “I moved us into this little house, not far from your place now. We were crammed in there. The babies cried all the time. Mandy complained that the island was too small, and she couldn’t get along with anyone because she was a city girl at heart. And I fell into my job. That movie was exciting for me. Seeing Christopher Reeve up close? That was wild to me. He also had a kindness to him that I hadn’t anticipated.
“I was always goofing off with the other stagehand boys. We ran around, trying to get away with anything we could during our downtime. When I was with them, I felt like the twenty-five-year-old nobody I really was. Heck, I look at Michael, and I remember exactly how that felt. No wonder he took off this island. He was doing exactly what I was doing when I hooked up with Allison. Hell. Maybe it’s the same as Elise coming out here to Mackinac to find her family.
“God, but it was romantic,” Dean continued, heaving a sigh. “When she first gave me that look, I knew she had me. There was no turning back. I fell for her, hard and fast. I did all I could to get out of the house. Mandy noticed, of course, and commented about it. She was depressed and up to her ears in the chaos with the kids. I just told her I was doing my best to keep food on the table. What could she say to that? That was such a low blow, and I do regret it.”
Wayne had lost his appetite. Hearing these long-lost regrets from a man he had respected for years was a difficult thing to swallow, but it also gave him the sense that nothing in this life was for sure. Not even for men like Dean Swartz.
“Of course, I noticed that Alex wasn’t doing so good,” Dean said. “But I insisted it was Mandy’s fault. I wanted everything to be Mandy’s fault because I was trying my best to dig myself out of that marriage. I told her that she didn’t feed him the right foods. I told her she didn’t dress him warm enough. I told her all sorts of things that made her cry. When we finally got the news that Alex had cancer, I completely broke apart. It destroyed me, and I knew that I had to say goodbye to Allison, that I had to say goodbye to being a stagehand, and that I had to become the kind of man who took care of his family. I turned my back on the film and theater industry and focused only on making money and now...”
He gestured out at the big house around them, the glorious table at which they sat, and the beautiful view of the Straits of Mackinac outside.
“I can’t say I regret it,” he said with a sneaky smile. “But I certainly never expected someone called Elise Darby to darken my door and remind me of all I had once lost.”
**
WAYNE’S MIND STIRRED with heavy thoughts that night. He sat at the edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and tried to remember exactly what it had felt like to have Tara in the room beside him. She had previously undressed near the wardrobe, donned her nightgown or flannel shirt, and cozied up to him, only to fall asleep moments later. She’d never had trouble with insomnia, not the way he had, both before her death and since.
Dean’s story had dealt Wayne the full brevity of the situation.
It told him that it was never bad to search for what you needed.
Elise, Michael, Dean—even Mandy, in her own way—were all searching for something.
And Wayne had been complacent, allowing life to happen as it came to him over the years—allowing women to come and go, allowing Mackinac season to rise and fall.
Late that night, he texted Michael.
WAYNE: I might head off the island for a few weeks. I need space to think. Do you think you can manage The Grind?
Michael texted back after only a few seconds. All twentysomethings had a phone addiction, Wayne thought.
MICHAEL: Are you suggesting that I can tell my mother I’m one of the partners? Are you suggesting I can give her the greatest gift of her life?
WAYNE: If you think your employment is the greatest gift of her life, then the bar is on the floor as far as expectations go.
MICHAEL: Just give me this one thrill.
WAYNE: Fine. You’re a partner. You’re in charge. I’m getting out of here.
MICHAEL: Okay, employee. Have a good vacation.
WAYNE: I should have never given you a single bit of power.