Chapter 24 Gigi
Gigi couldn’t stand how slowly the line was moving at Sadie’s Ice Cream Parlor. She was tempted to apply for a job there,
just to show them what competency looked like. Eloise would be pleased.
“Long line,” a voice said, joining the queue behind Gigi.
It was Lillian, standing there in a pleated white skirt, tanned legs bearing all the shape that Gigi’s gangly ones lacked.
The Pink Pony’s logo was embroidered into the fabric of her collared tank top, and she had a pickleball paddle in hand. Sweat
glistened from beneath Lillian’s visor, just enough to look like skillfully applied highlighter.
“I was just playing pickleball with James,” Lillian carried on when Gigi didn’t say anything. “You should join us sometime.
I only picked it up this summer. Thought my athletic career peaked in high school, but pickleball is something I can still
get better at.”
The statement reeked of an existential crisis. Gigi had heard Lillian had quit her fancy lawyer job but wasn’t going to ask.
The last thing she needed was Lillian trying to bond with her over the real world spitting them out and depositing them back
here, on Mackinac’s sad little shores.
Gigi scrolled on her phone, pretending to be tending to messages. The truth was that she hadn’t heard from her so-called friends
at all. They seemed to be living their best lives without her.
Eloise hadn’t been entirely wrong about how they’d kicked her out of the apartment when she’d fallen behind on rent.
They could’ve at least given her a couple more months to come up with the money.
She’d chipped in to help out when they’d fallen short before.
That was the problem with new friends—they could turn on you quickly without any remorse.
There was nothing tying them together. That was the fun part too, how you could reshape your identity so quickly, but the lack of loyalty didn’t sit well with Gigi.
“Happy for you,” Gigi said to Lillian. “Your parents must be proud.”
Much of Lillian’s insufferableness could be traced back to her parents. In high school they’d framed every newspaper article
about Lillian and donated her trophies to the town hall, under the sham of “sharing wins with the whole community.” The trophies
were probably still there, expertly polished, not that Gigi was going to check.
A jingling came from down the street. It was Mayor Welsh, riding her Belgian draft named Rowan, shaking the bells she’d fastened
to the reins so no one would miss their arrival.
Camille brought Rowan to a halt in front of Gigi and Lillian. “How are you two ladies enjoying your time back home?”
Gigi thought she felt Lillian wince at the word home , but maybe it was just the reverberation of her own shudder.
“Hello, Mayor Welsh,” Lillian said, voice smooth and treacly.
“Camille,” Gigi said.
“Look at all this hubbub. It’s just superb.” Camille gestured down Main Street as if she were single-handedly responsible
for the vibrant tourist season. There was a rasp in her voice from tobacco. “Well, I’ve got to be going. Need to get my training
in for the race, and the governor invited me over for a barbecue later.” She leaned toward Gigi. “Don’t worry, we won’t bring
up you know what .”
“Bring up what?” Gigi asked coolly.
“That trouble you got into with the prior governor’s son.” Camille laughed. It sounded more like a belch. “Quite a scandal
you brought us into. But we moved on from it, didn’t we?”
“I sure did.” Gigi waved, a dismissal. Camille took it, only because tourists were asking to take photos with Rowan. This made Camille happier than taking digs at Gigi.
“I can’t stand that woman,” Lillian said once Camille had jingled away.
The critique surprised Gigi. Lillian was one of those annoying types who never breathed a bad word about anyone.
“Is she that bad?” Gigi wasn’t inclined to agree with Lillian, even over something as blatant as this.
Lillian made a face, her well-defined Cupid’s bow pinching. “She’s not very progressive.”
“It’s Mackinac,” Gigi pointed out. “No one’s progressive.”
“Some people are. Camille just silences anyone other than her sycophants.”
Perhaps Lillian’s years living in Chicago had done some good to chip away at the conservative cage they’d been raised in.
“If you ever want to stage a rebellion, I’m in,” Gigi said. The idea appealed far more than she’d expected.
Lillian’s phone chimed. From the way Lillian smiled when she read the text, Gigi guessed it was James.
Gigi checked her own phone. She still had no reply from her dad.
“Just one of my Chicago friends,” Lillian explained as she stashed her phone in her pocket. “She sent me a funny meme about
lawyers.”
“I’m sure,” Gigi said, not buying it.
They finally reached the front of the line. The scrunched inside of Sadie’s smelled like toasted marshmallows and the malt-and-vanilla
scent of freshly baked waffle cones.
“Oh, good, they still have some lilac left from the festival,” Lillian said, scoping out the ice cream flavors. “My favorite.”
Gigi had planned to go with chocolate mocha and grasshopper but now changed her mind. “I’ll have lilac,” she ordered at the
counter, before Lillian. “Two triple-scoop waffle cones.”
It cleared the container clean, and her wallet.
“Sorry,” Gigi said to Lillian. “I said I’d take one back to the house for my mom.”
Lillian didn’t point out that it would melt before making it that far. “That’s okay,” she said, smiling. “Enjoy.”
Exiting the shop, Gigi took a lick of the ice cream. It tasted even more like detergent than she remembered. She spit it out
onto the asphalt. Across the street, she spotted Clyde scribbling in his moleskin journal.
“Here you go,” Gigi greeted, shoving the extra waffle cone at Clyde. “I got you an ice cream.”
Clyde looked confused, then accepted. “Is this a bribe to stay away from your mam?”
“Maybe,” Gigi said. “You’ll have to answer to me, you know. If you break her heart.”
“If anyone gets hurt, I have a feeling it’ll be me,” Clyde said. “I care for your mam very much. All I want is a chance to
get to know her more. What do you say to that?”
“It doesn’t really matter what I say, does it?” Gigi said, feeling at least a little reassured. “It’s my mother’s decision.”
“She obviously values your input.”
Gigi wished it were true. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, she talks about you nonstop, doesn’t she?”
“If by talking about me, you mean complaining about me,” Gigi said.
“Your mam brags about you, Gigi.”
Gigi liked how he called her Gigi without her having to ask.
“She showed me on a map all the places you’ve lived,” he went on. “Even pitched me a story about a brave, spirited woman who
leaves her little hometown and makes friends wherever she goes.”
It didn’t seem like Clyde was lying, but she couldn’t be sure. His job, after all, was to make up fictional plots. “Sounds
like a boring story.”
“There’s no such thing as a boring story,” Clyde said. “Only boring writing.”
Gigi wondered if it was true.
Clyde thanked her for the ice cream and took his first lick. “Like soap for the spirit,” he declared happily, and Gigi couldn’t help but smile at how everything about Mackinac seemed to delight him.
It was quite the contrast to Gus.
As Gigi carried on with her walk, she couldn’t help but feel the fondness returning for Clyde. If Eloise wanted to keep spending
time with him, Gigi wasn’t going to stand in their way. Or, at least she would try not to. There was always the chance she
might cause trouble spur of the moment, but she wouldn’t plan any trouble, and that was something.
Cruiser was walking Main Street, Ronny in the saddle. Gigi hadn’t seen him since the cruise.
“Well, look who it is,” Ronny said, catching sight of her. “Little Miss Ghoster.”
Gigi had gotten three texts from Ronny, all of them lacking punctuation and all sent after 9:00 p.m. She hadn’t replied to
any yet.
“I wasn’t ghosting you,” Gigi said. “I’ve been busy.”
“Baking sourdough bread with your mom?” Ronny’s lopsided smile told her he didn’t mind. “Or watching rom-coms while giving
each other manicures?”
“Don’t forget the matching pajama sets,” Gigi said, feeling a certain pull toward Ronny. Or a push, but what was the difference?
“It’s been quite a full schedule.”
“So no time for me, then?” Ronny said it lightly, just as Gigi would if she were in his shoes.
It was a welcome change from James’s cowardly silence. Gigi might as well go for Ronny. She knew what to do with someone like
him. How to play the game, how to pour on the charm. It wasn’t like she was looking to meet her next boyfriend on Mackinac
anyway. A fling was all she wanted.
“Let’s meet up at the fort tonight,” she said.
He grinned. “How’re you going to sneak past Mommy?”
“I’ll find a way,” Gigi said. “I always have.”