Chapter 2
It was hard to panic when there was mac and cheese to make and bath time and books before bed, but Mia felt the edges of it creeping in during the few quiet moments.
It had been two days since that meeting at the bank. Two days of job searching on the island. Two days of pushing off the anxiety eating a hole through her stomach. She stood at the stove in her kitchen, its chipped white surface a contrast to the brown faux stone of her Formica countertops. Noodles boiled in a large pot.
A loud bang echoed from the backyard. What in the…? She turned and looked out the window over the sink. Someone was in her shed. The door hung ajar, and a gust of wind slammed it against the wall with another bang.
“Finn, Maggie, stay put.” The kids would be safe playing in the living room a minute on their own. She’d deal with whatever was going on in the backyard and be back before the macaroni was overcooked.
Tightening her grip on the wooden spoon in her hand, she pushed open the back door. She walked on the balls of her feet the ten steps to the shed. Her lawnmower roared to life, and she yelped.
The engine cut out immediately, and a man leaned out of the shed. His dark blond hair caught the last of the evening sunshine.
“Cody?” Her heart still raced. Settle down, it’s just Cody. Breathe, girl. “What are you doing in my shed?”
“Sorry. I should have messaged you.” Cody came fully out of the shed and wiped his hands on a tattered towel. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared.” Lie.
His blue eyes lit with mischief. “I don’t know if I believe you.” He nodded at her hand, still raised to her shoulder. “That’s some weapon you have there.”
The laugh that escaped was part relief and part humor. Mia lowered her hand. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure your lawnmower is tuned up for the summer. We might actually start getting grass now that the weather is warmer.” He shut one of the shed doors. “I hoped to come this morning, but my mom needed help, and then I had to meet Dani.”
“You’ve been working all day, you must be exhausted. You really didn’t have to do this.”
Cody studied the rag in his hands. “I’ll always be here when you need me.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “But next time, I’ll text first. Don’t want to get hit with any cooking utensils.”
“Har, har.” She rolled her eyes.
“Any new leads on jobs?” He stuffed the rag into the back pocket of his jeans.
She sighed. “I was looking at postings earlier today.” Her gut churned. “There’s nothing really on island.”
“If there were any way I could help you, I would.” The blue of his eyes deepened.
“I appreciate all you’ve done around here since Troy died.” She gestured toward the house. Cody had come almost every week, sometimes more, to do things around the house. “But even you aren’t a miracle worker. I’ll figure something out for work. I have to.”
“I believe in you.” Cody’s gaze drifted to the darkening sky. The rays of the setting sun purpling the heavy clouds on the horizon. “I’d better get home before that rain hits. Unless you’d like me to stay, wait out the storm?”
Have another adult around to help ride out the storm? Tempting. But she couldn’t rely on him forever, despite his words. “Nah. I’m good. See you later, Cody. I’d better get back inside. Make sure my kids aren’t killing each other.”
Cody gave her a long look. Then he shrugged and smiled. “Okay. See you. Text me if you need anything.”
An hour later, after mac and cheese and bath time, her thoughts kept skittering back to the problem of how to pay her mortgage.
“One more story, Mommy,” Finn’s pleading voice broke through. The three of them sat in the kids’ bedroom off the kitchen. Now that Maggie had graduated from the crib, both Finn and Maggie had a twin bed pushed to opposite walls in the small room, Finn’s bed covered with a space themed quilt and Maggie’s with a unicorn one. Mia could sit on the floor between them and put one hand on each child. She found herself in that position more and more these days.
On the wall, a clock with a sun for its face ticked past a few seconds. The house creaked and settled. The familiar nighttime noises sank deep into Mia’s heart. How could she take her kids from this place?
She sat on the floor, blue shag rug underneath her, a pile of books on her lap. “Another story? We’ve already gone through six tonight.”
Maggie clambered off her bed and crawled into Mia’s lap, pushing the books to the floor. Her little body warm against Mia’s chest and smelling of baby shampoo. “One mo-ah, peas.”
And who could argue with that? “Just one more, and then it’s definitely bedtime.” And time for her to check the job listings board on the Jonathon Island community website. Again.
Maggie picked a book from the bookshelf nested between the beds, and soon they were lost in the antics of an alligator who goes to school.
Many kisses and giggles later, the kids were tucked into bed. Mia fixed herself a cup of tea before heading to her own bedroom, set it down on a bedside table, and plopped down on top of the covers of her four-poster bed.
Mia’s bedroom rested at the back of the house, just beyond the shared bathroom, close enough to hear if either of the kids cried out in the night, but far enough she didn’t have to be totally silent when they were sleeping. Troy had talked about making the small dormer attic rooms upstairs into a master suite when the kids were old enough to stay on the ground floor on their own. Another project he would never be able to complete.
Shaking off the thought, she propped a pillow behind her back and picked up her notebook from where she’d left it the night before. “Job Ideas” was scrawled across the top. The rest of the page was blank. She doodled a line of roses along the bottom.
Picking up the laptop her parents had given her when she graduated from high school, she navigated to the Jonathon Island website. Plans for the renovations of the Grand Sullivan Hotel scrolled past. Her cousin, Dani, along with Liam Stone, was working on a remodel and rebuild of the once beautiful structure. The building had partially burned down ten years ago or so, leaving few housing options for tourists and seasonal staff. When the hotel reopened, so would Jonathon Island. Or so everyone hoped.
Too bad it might be too late to matter for her.
She clicked the “Jobs” tab. Waited as the laptop whirred and stalled as it loaded the page. A message bearing the words “Opportunities Await on Jonathon Island” popped up on the screen. But, below that, no opportunities awaited. The job listings remained as blank as the day before, and the day before that.
Maybe it was time to face facts. She only had two options. Move in with her parents, or move off island.
Despite her parents’ offers, she just couldn’t burden them with so much. Not with Dad still recovering from his last near-heart attack. He was failing all his attempts at retirement. Her mother thought he was barely trying.
No. Her eyes burned as she entered Port Joseph into the search bar. Outside, the wind kicked up, rattling the windows. Sounded like the weatherman was right. Springtime in Michigan went hand in hand with stormy weather.
The job offer from her friend in Traverse City was unthinkable. It would be fun to have you around, her friend had written. We could go out together. Maybe meet some guys… Yeah, maybe other people her age were out having fun, but she had responsibilities. Like keeping her kids near their family. Troy’s mom, Constance, still lived on the island, just a few doors away, actually. Recently Constance had taken over the care of her mother, who had fallen and broken a hip. No, Traverse City wasn’t an option, but Port Joseph was closer. A lot closer. Plus, Evie lived there. At least her kids would have their cousins nearby.
A knit blanket lay at the foot of her bed. She pulled it up and over her as the Port Joseph Chamber of Commerce website blinked to life on her computer.
A banging sound started outside, followed by the shhh-ing noise unique to sleet falling in waves against the siding of the house. Her gut churned with the noise, unable to escape the memories of another night.
Another storm.
“Mommy?” Finn’s voice came warbling from the doorway to his bedroom. “Mommy, I need you.”
She untangled herself from the blanket and raced to him, thoughts of the storm hovering at the edges of her mind. She’d gotten within two steps of Finn when he opened his mouth and threw up directly in her path. She skidded to a halt before she stepped in the muck. Leaning over the mess, she picked up Finn.
“It’s okay, honey. I’ve got you.” She took him into the bathroom and set him on the toilet seat, lid down. “Does your tummy feel yucky?” She felt his forehead. No fever.
Finn nodded.
“If you need to do it again, just lean into the garbage can.” The toilet would be better, but she didn’t want to leave him sitting on the cold tiles. She opened the cabinet under the sink. Empty. “I’ll go grab a washcloth.” She dashed to the alcove where they had managed to fit a stackable washer and dryer and then rummaged through the dryer, praying she’d remembered to put the load of towels in to dry that morning as she had planned. Triumphant, she pulled out a dry washcloth then grabbed a few clean towels too. Might come in handy.
Retching noises echoed from the bathroom. Please let him be hitting the garbage can and not the floor. She didn’t know if it was a prayer or just a fervent hope. Outside, the wind screamed louder. Another crack of thunder boomed, and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her head. Barely.
The broken shutter banged against the wall. One problem at a time. Rounding the corner to the hall, she almost stepped on Maggie.
“Hey, baby.” She put her hand on Maggie’s head. Hot and sweaty.
“I frewed up.” Maggie’s eyes welled with tears as she held up her stuffed bunny. “Trixie is all yucky.” Trixie, dilapidated by being excessively loved, looked even worse now. Mia didn’t want to think about what might be waiting in Maggie’s bed. Her stomach rolled over. She took three deep breaths, willing the bile to stay in place.
“Oh, Mags.” Mia picked up the bunny by the one place on its right ear that seemed cleanest and dropped it onto one of the towels. She wrapped the bundle up and set it next to the wall. “We’ll get Trixie cleaned up in a little bit. Let’s go help your brother.” Fatigue pulled at her bones as she picked up Maggie.
A tiny spark of warmth lit her heart as Maggie wrapped her arms around her neck and buried her head on top of her shoulder. Thunder boomed directly above them, and they both yelped. Mia jumped and clutched Maggie tighter. Her heart raced.
Yeah, she knew that storms were a normal part of a Michigan spring and summer—she even used to enjoy them. Now, all she could hear in the thunder was the groan of a ship against rocks. The rain was the waters of Lake Huron swamping a boat, dragging down the only boy she’d ever kissed.
Maggie convulsed once. Something warm and wet made its way through the hair tucked behind Mia’s ear and down her neck. She knew even before Maggie spoke.
“Mama, I frewed up again.”
A heat prickled in her eyes. She would not break down. She didn’t have time for that.
In the bathroom, Finn sat on the toilet, legs pulled tight to his chest, chin between his knees, hair tousled. Vomit filled the garbage can and spotted the floor. “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Finn said to his knees.
The wind found its way through a crack in the attic and began moaning. Finn looked up, his eyes wide. “Is that a monster?”
“No, honey, it’s just the wind.” She set Maggie in the empty tub. The loose shutter began banging again.
“The monster wants to get in,” Maggie said and began sobbing. “I don’t want any monsters.” The two-year-old shivered.
Enough. Mia squared her shoulders. She wrapped one of the clean towels around Maggie. No need to dirty up a blanket, the towel would do for now. “Stay here, Mags. Finn, watch your sister. Stay in here. I’ll go get the monster.”
She marched out of the bathroom and toward the front door. Something cold slid down her back. Not stopping for her jacket hanging on its hook—no sense getting the sick all over it—she opened the door, and a gust of wind almost tore it from her grip.
A wet spray of sleet hit her in the face as she stepped onto the cold front step. In defiance, the broken shutter banged a few more times. She grabbed the edges of it and began tugging. If it could bang around so much, surely it was loose enough to come off the side of the house.
It held tight.
A bolt of lightning streaked the sky, followed by a rumble. Mia could taste the sleet streaming down her face. It tasted salty. Oh wait. Maybe she was crying. She pulled again at the shutter, twisting it this time.
It came loose. A shocking pain ran through her hand and she fell backward, shutter still gripped tightly. The cold feeling of wet mud bit into her pajama pants. Another bolt of lightning—no, a flashlight this time.
Over the roar of the storm, she could hear someone calling her name.
“Mia?” Evie’s voice. She almost cried in relief. Mia felt Evie grasp the shutter and move it away. “Mia, what are you doing out here?”
“Monsters.” Mia couldn’t stop shaking. Evie put her arm under Mia’s armpits and lifted her up. Evie’s rain jacket crinkled. Mia cupped her sore hand to her chest.
“Let’s get you inside,” Evie said. “Mia, are you bleeding?”
“What are you doing here?” Mia clung to her sister’s arm, slip sliding in the mud to the front door.
“I was visiting Mom and Dad when the storm came up. They canceled the ferry service, so we’ll be spending the night.” Evie shrugged. “I know how these storms freak you out. I thought I would come by and check on you.”
“Across the island? How could you even see in this downpour?” Mia scrubbed a hair out of her eye.
“It wasn’t raining this hard when I left. Besides, why are you always surprised when people show up for you?” Evie held open the door for Mia. “Never mind, don’t answer that. You’re dripping blood on the floor. And is that vomit in your hair?”
“It’s been a long night.” Mia reached up to push her hair back but then remembered the cut on her hand. “The kids are in the bathroom. Watch out in the hall. I haven’t had time to clean up.”
“I see. It’s that kind of night.” She squeezed Mia’s arm. “I got this.” Then she headed down the hallway.
Later, after the kids had quick baths, Evie volunteered to put them back to bed while Mia showered. She lingered under the spray until the water turned cold, then put on some old flannel pjs and went to find Evie.
“Show me your hand.” Evie reached out and gently examined Mia’s cut. “I don’t think this is too deep. Are you up to date on your tetanus shots?”
Mia nodded.
Evie bandaged her hand and then made them both a cup of Earl Grey. Mia followed her sister into the living room and plopped down on the couch.
The room had been the first she and Troy finished. Original hardwood flooring shone after they refinished it. They’d found the couch and loveseat on Craigslist. Troy’s favorite recliner sat empty in the other corner. Mia never could bring herself to sit in it.
The fatigue from earlier threatened to eat Mia whole. The Earl Grey had steeped too long, bitter orange on her tongue. “Thank you, sis. You’re a lifesaver.” Mia closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the couch.
Evie patted her on the knee. “I was going to come even without the storm. I hope you don’t mind, but Mom told me about your meeting at the bank.”
Mia kept her eyes closed. “Whatever. The whole island probably knows by now. The widow who will lose her house.”
“Stop. It’s not like that. People care about you.”
Mia opened her eyes and sat up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitter. But how can I be twenty-four and already a stereotype?”
“Honestly, Mia. You are too hard on yourself.” At thirty-two, with a banker husband and mother to three great kids, Evie was a different sort of stereotype. One who would never understand Mia’s predicament.
She leaned forward to take a gulp of her tea. The heat of Evie’s stare bored into her. “Okay. Fine. You’re right. It’s just been a long two years, I guess. I thought I’d be more put together by now.” It didn’t help that the ghost of Troy was all over this island. She couldn’t go anywhere without being reminded of him or of people looking at her with pity. Maybe she should move to the mainland.
And yet, this was still her home. Even when she’d gone away to art school for a year, she’d missed this place something fierce.
“And I get that, I really do. As much as I can anyway,” Evie said. “Just remember you don’t have to do things solo.”
“Evie, I’m a single mother. Of course I’m doing things solo. The only person I can rely on is myself.” She gripped her cup tight.
“You need a plan.”
Mia slumped lower on the couch. “Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve thought about leaving the island, but I hate to take the kids away from the only home they know. Plus, it’s nice for them to be able to see their grandparents anytime.”
“Move away? You need a plan, but let’s not do anything so drastic.” Evie pulled a blanket out of the basket.
“I don’t know what else to do. There aren’t any jobs here. But, I admit, moving away feels like giving up.” Mia tucked her feet up under her. “And I don’t want my kids to see me as a quitter. I want to be strong and resilient for them.” She took a deep breath. “Plus, what marketable skills do I even have? An artist who quit school after a year. Yeah, that would look great on a résumé.”
“It’s not quitting to try and find a better life for yourself,” Evie said.
“I was looking at jobs in Port Joseph.” Mia pushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “At least I’d be near you.”
“Don’t move to Port Joseph on my account. You know I want to move back on island.”
A lump sat firmly in Mia’s chest. “I don’t know what else to do.”
They sat silent for a moment. The wind from earlier had died down.
“You know…” Evie seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “I was talking to Dad?—”
“Stop.” She put up her hand like a traffic cop. “Don’t even suggest I ask him for help.”
“I still don’t understand this wall you have put up between you.” A line formed between Evie’s eyebrows.
“It’s just that whenever I talk to him, all I can remember is his disappointment when I came home pregnant and unmarried.” Mia tugged a blanket tight around her torso.
The memory jumped into her mind. What do you mean you’re pregnant? Her dad’s face had fallen, shoulders slumped. I thought your mom and I taught you better values. And then he’d sighed.
The kind of sigh that had shattered her heart.
Then he’d turned away and called for her mom.
He didn’t have to say anything more for her to feel the disappointment falling like a wall between them.
Now she looked at Evie, the perfect daughter, married before getting pregnant. “Dad will never see me the way he sees you. I’m a disappointment, and now…now I’m even more so. He told me to invest the insurance money, but I didn’t. There wasn’t much to begin with. And now it’s down to nothing.”
“Listen. You did what you had to after Troy’s death. I would have taken the kids away on a trip too. And helping out his mom…You did the right thing.” Evie leaned forward. “You know that Dad loves you. And he loves Finn and Maggie, of course. This all sounds like a you problem.”
Her head began to pound. “Anyway. It’s all awkward. I don’t know how to make him proud of me again. And I don’t have the bandwidth for dealing with that right now.”
“And you won’t be able to until you sit down and have a real conversation with him,” Evie said and then readjusted her position on the couch. “Don’t bother to argue with me, I’m done doing the older sister thing. I wasn’t going to say you should ask him for help.”
“Okay…” Fine. She’d let it go. Evie would never be able to understand. “What then?”
“I was just remembering that conversation he and Dani were having the other night at dinner. The one with attracting new businesses to the island?”
Mia nodded. She vaguely recalled them talking about it while she cleaned spaghetti off Maggie’s face and kept Finn from continuing a kicking game he’d started with his cousin.
“Right. They’re giving away housing for a dollar. Pretty crazy.” She watched the steam off her tea swirl away and evaporate. “I wonder how that works exactly.”
“You’d have to ask Dani for details. Which is what I was going to suggest—that you talk to Dani. She seemed stressed the other night. Excited but overwhelmed, you know? Maybe she needs some help.”
Mia eyed her sister over the edge of her cup. “Ha. That’s funny. How would I help? I don’t have any marketable skills. Unless you count refereeing children and cleaning up messes.”
Evie laughed and rolled her eyes. “What about that realtor license Dad encouraged you to get right out of high school? You could put that to good use.”
“You mean the real estate license that has gotten dusty from unuse? That license?” At the time, it had seemed like a great way to hold down a job and work on her education at the same time. Part-time, weekend work.
Then Finn came along and changed everything.
Still. “I have kept renewing it…”
“So, dust it off and use it. Maybe it was a God thing. He kept prompting you to keep up with it for just this opportunity,” Evie said. “I don’t know if you will need it or not, all I’m saying is that you should call her.”
Later, after Evie had left, her maybe it was a God thing still echoing in Mia’s ears, Mia wrote “Call Dani” on her list of job ideas. She added another row of roses.
Then she wrapped herself in the blanket, listened to the storm roar, and wondered if, maybe, God hadn’t completely abandoned her.
At least, not yet.
* * *