2. Johnny
Johnny
Trudging through the deep grass, I finally made it to the clearing, my golden retriever, Oberon, leading the way in front of me.
He was in heaven. The sun was just coming up over the pine trees, bouncing off the windows of the worn-down cabins.
The old resort had been empty for the last twenty years or so, and it showed.
There were twelve small cabins, each identical in their structure—brown shingles, old wooden exteriors, single-pane windows, and matching stoops.
They all lined up along the northern side of the property.
Opposite, there was a large building that might have once been a community hall or game room.
All the landscaping—which at one time had been immaculate and undoubtedly cost a lot of money—was overgrown with weeds in it.
On the eastern end, there was a small beach, and scattered throughout were broken picnic tables, fire pits, and hammocks falling apart.
Perfect.
My phone rang. I looked down and saw my brother Ryan’s face on my screen, holding his little girl, both of them in matching elf costumes from last Christmas. The photo always made me chuckle. I answered, and after a few pleasantries, he asked how it was going with the rentals.
“We’ve got most of June rented out. July and August are a bit sporadic with bookings, but it’ll pick up now that we’re past Memorial Day,” I said.
“Hopefully it’s a good year for you. Seemed like last year you got some good traction. I know you can just ride that wave. I can feel it.” I heard the smile in his voice.
A few years ago, I’d sold off all my single-family homes and headed to Port St. Clair for a fresh start.
At the time, I thought it’d be a straightforward change, but really, I had no idea.
Long-term rentals in a populated city like Detroit and short-term rentals in a beach town were not at all the same thing.
I had been struggling the last few years to hit my stride.
It was much more challenging to get renters than I’d thought it would be.
I had to learn all the new rental websites, figure out marketing, and spread the word.
But by the end of last summer, we were pretty consistent with bookings.
I felt like this could be the year things really turned around.
“Yeah, I’m feeling it too. I think I found a place that could be a big turning point for me though. I’m actually there now,” I said, looking over my shoulder at Oberon splashing in the water.
“Oh, what’s the place?”
“It’s an old abandoned resort. Hasn’t been touched in decades.” I looked around, spotting the shutters hanging off one of the cabins and winced. “An agent friend told me the owner might be interested in selling, so it’s possibly good timing. This could really move the needle.”
“That’s awesome. What kind of resort?”
“Nothing too special other than it’s on the water, but it’s north enough out of town that it’s a bit quieter here. And since it needs so much work, I’m hoping to get a decent deal on it. I’ll send you a few photos.”
“That’s really great,” he said.
There was some dead air, and I wasn’t sure if I’d lost him with the reception, but he jumped back in after a few seconds.
“So, the reason I’m calling is that Felicia wants to bring Kinsley up to see you this summer, and maybe we could rent out one of your places,” he said. “Would you have room for us?”
He seemed unsure about asking. Probably because I’ve been more protective of my new life since moving.
Even though we talked almost weekly and I saw him at out-of-town family events, I had yet to invite him up to check out Port St. Clair since I’d put down roots.
It’d been a tougher last three years than expected, and having some distance between my new life and my old life had been helpful.
Even though I was close with Ryan, it would feel real once I had him come up—almost merging the two worlds.
I loved him and his family, but seeing him still brought back old memories that I hadn’t confronted yet.
It was easier for me to drive down there, and he knew that.
I’d been trying to let some of the old angst go after Anne left me three years ago, but things were still hard.
Everything felt different now. Since I moved here, he’d gotten married, had a new baby, and seemed to be moving into his new phase of life.
I was trying to be happy for him, even though a small part of me felt left behind.
I couldn’t think about the past though. I wanted—no, I needed to focus on the future and making something of myself, and one way to do that was share with Ryan what I was building here.
“Absolutely,” I said finally. “I know you guys haven’t had the chance to come check everything out since Kinsley was born. I’ll find you a spot, on the house.”
“We’re absolutely paying,” he argued, more lighthearted now that I was agreeing to host him. “We’re not coming in during your busiest time to get a free ride.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Got it. I’ll look at the books and put you down. I’ll figure out some cool touristy things for us to do too.”
As I ended the call, I felt nerves in the pit of my stomach but ignored the feeling and carried on with the rest of my work.
It was already a busy morning. I loved what I did, but in owning the rental houses, I was the housekeeper, maintenance man, and landlord all rolled into one.
I slammed my truck door behind me as I made my way toward the Seagull Café to grab a coffee before heading out on my rounds to turn over the rentals.
My buddy Lane had bought the restaurant from his parents a few years ago.
Ding. Ding.
Lane insisted on having those loud chimes on the door. It drove me nuts because every time I’d sit at the bar sipping my coffee, it was going off constantly. Shaking my head, I took my usual stool next to the register. It let me chat at Lane without bothering his flow with customers.
“Order’s up,” yelled someone from the line.
Lane was busy talking with Mrs. Michaels in the corner, so I asked which booth it went to.
“Table 5.”
I grabbed the plates, some napkins and walked them over to a corner table.
“Here’s your order,” I said. “Enjoy.” Turning back around, I made my way back to my stool in time to see Lane back at the counter.
“You know, you don’t have to do that,” he said. “You don’t work here. You have enough going on.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’d hate to see them give you a bad review for their cold eggs.” I laughed. Lane hated when I delivered food, but it wasn’t a big deal. I just did it when he was in the middle of something.
“Yeah, yeah. What’s on the agenda for the weekend?
” He tossed a white towel over his shoulder and crossed his arms, looking at me.
He was the one who connected me with the agent who showed me the resort, and I know he was waiting for me to give him the details on the property.
I’d tell him, but I didn’t want to jinx it.
It was such a small town that word got around really quickly if you weren’t paying attention.
The last thing I wanted was for someone to overhear me in the café, then swoop in and cut me out of my own deal.
“Just turnovers today, but I checked out the place a few days ago.” I leaned in, resting my elbows on the counter and lowering my voice.
“And?” Lane asked.
“It’s under contract.” I smiled.
“That’s awesome, man. I’m happy for you.” Even though he didn’t show much emotion, he had a wide grin on his face.
“It’s a shit-ton of work though. I went there yesterday to do a walk-through.”
Lane grunted, nodding.
“Already have something tentatively set up with the credit union, but I’m wondering how much extra money it’s going to take.” I ran my hand down my face, not wanting to think about it.
“You’re working with Chris over there?” he asked.
I nodded.
“She’s good though. She’ll figure it out. I refinanced with them a few years ago to make some upgrades, and it was smooth.”
Lane took over the Seagull Café several years ago from his dad and had slowly turned the old-school diner into a tourist destination.
It was the kind of place that had all the sugary coffees and extra brunch items that city people would pay more for, and it was paying off for him.
The reviews were through the roof, and on the weekends, there was usually a line out the door.
He’d turned into not only a friend for me when I moved here three years ago, but a mentor too.
He was just a couple years older than me, but he’d grown up in the family business—something that I’d never seen or learned when I was young.
Owning my own business was all new, and he knew how people were up here.
“Thanks. Yeah, hopefully, that’s the case.” I took a sip of my black coffee. “Ryan’s coming up over the fourth.”
Lane arched a brow at me. He knew how it was with my family, how much was left unsaid even if things were stable now.
“I think it’s time. Should be good,” I said.
“How long has it been since he’s been up here?” He rang up a customer as we continued to talk.
“Never, man. Not since we were kids and our grandpa brought us up here for vacations with the fam.”
“That’s good then,” Lane said. “I know it’s been weird for you, but you’ve got to just rip the Band-Aid off.”
“True. And I will. Just makes everything more real.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s all real, man. You’re doing it. And you’re doing it well.”
Even as he said it, it didn’t feel like it. I still felt as though I was struggling to stay above water, even if I tried to keep that feeling of failure to myself.
He leaned back against the counter, looking around. People were starting to come in now, and I knew he’d be swamped the rest of the day.
“Yeah, I just have to keep my head down, not get distracted,” I said.
“Ryan coming up for one weekend isn’t going to do that.”
I chuckled. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“I’ve got to ask though. How’d it go with—who was that on Friday? She seemed fun.” He gave me one of those looks that let me know he liked to live vicariously through my extracurriculars.
“Went well.” I laughed. “Summertime tourists—doesn’t get much better than that.”
“If you say so.” He tapped on the counter before welcoming a big group who walked in.
As much as I’d sworn off women since Anne, I still indulged myself in the tourists coming through town.
I sure as hell couldn’t get mixed up with a local, but I wasn’t a monk either.
No one could go that long. Except maybe Lane.
The guy didn’t date, and I never saw him with a woman—ever.
When I first moved here, I’d asked Lane to keep me in check and not let me fall for anyone.
And he kept to his word on that. I knew if I tried to date someone for real, it’d only end badly, and I’d fall too quickly, too hard, and I didn’t have time for that.
Not when I was trying to get my life in order for something bigger. Something real.
Not that I had any idea what that was yet.