Chapter 46 Gigi #2
same height. Their eyes locked, though it felt more like an unlocking. A release of her past judgments about James, and those
about herself too.
He stepped toward her again. They were nearly touching. She could feel his breath warm on her face. His eyes weren’t just
gray but also speckled with earthy brown. His eyelashes were black and thick. Everything was a little blurred this close.
Gigi thought he might kiss her. She hoped he might kiss her. But he didn’t, just tucked her bangs behind her ears so they
were out of her eyes.
“Maybe we could give us a try?” James said. His mouth was inches from hers. He was asking for the green light to close the
gap.
Gigi was so close to saying yes. She was so close to throwing caution to the wind and plunging in. But there was a steady sort of stirring deep within. The kind of nudge she usually ignored but now found herself valuing more.
She took a step back. “I don’t think so. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not looking for a fling.”
“I’m not either,” James said quickly.
“But we’re both leaving in a couple weeks. That’s the literal definition of a fling.”
James’s thick brows pulled together. “Can’t we create a new definition?”
Gigi wanted to keep things clear and organized. Maybe it was Eloise or Rebecca wearing off on her, or maybe she’d just found
that ambiguity and anarchy were more fun in theory than in practice.
She wanted more of James, but she didn’t want to complicate things with romance. Not at this stage, not in these circumstances.
She’d been reflecting more on her long list of exes and even her very brief fling with Ronny, and that wasn’t what she was
looking for anymore.
“How about we expand the definition of friendship?” Gigi suggested instead.
James looked open to this. “Under this expanded definition, can friends kiss?” he asked innocently, though mischief sparked
in his eyes.
“They cannot,” Gigi said. It was a test of her willpower.
“Can they hold hands?”
“Also no. But,” Gigi went on grandly, “they can link arms.”
She demonstrated. There in the water, she looped her arm through his. His touch felt foreign yet dependable too. Not like
a home she’d ever had, but like one she might yet build.
“How very intimate,” James said.
He was teasing, but there was a truth in his words too.
There was something old-fashioned and tender about linking arms rather than skipping straight to making out or jumping in bed.
More emphasis on eye contact and emotions and energy rather than just a commoditized version of physical touch, which Gigi had gotten used to.
She didn’t have her usual desire to cut the intimacy by saying something snarky or cracking a joke.
She just stood her ground in the lake and looked James straight in the eye.
“May I assume that eye contact is safe?” James asked.
“I wouldn’t say it’s safe,” Gigi clarified. She felt the temptation in every twinkle of his eye. “But it is permitted, yes.”
“Thank you for such a detailed overview.” James took a step back, as if trying to dutifully keep his distance. “With these
terms, I accept our friendship.”
Gigi held out her hand. He shook it.
“You really are cut out to be mayor,” James said.
Gigi fought a smile. “Did Lillian tell you that? Because it’s not true.”
“Too bad. You’d be incredible.”
The vote of confidence meant more to Gigi than she let on.
They looked out at the horizon, all corals and cotton tonight. The sunset had the ease of something that happens every day,
yet the flair of something very rare. She realized how glad she was that she hadn’t managed to stay away from Mackinac this
summer.
“Do you actually think I could make a difference?” she asked. There it was, her greatest fear rebirthed as a strand of hope.
“On this island, I mean.”
James considered it, then found his answer. “I think you already have.”
Gigi squeezed James’s forearm rather than his hand so she wouldn’t be breaching their contract. She was more interested in
creating rules than breaking them these days. But she felt the meaning of their touch just the same.
“You have too, Dr. Kentwood,” she said. “You have too.”
He grinned at that, and Gigi marveled how she had ever found his smile cold. Probably because it had been a mirror then, just as it was a mirror now. Not projecting the past or refracting the future, just reflecting the present and all its unexpected light.
***
“Will you be my campaign manager?” Gigi asked Rebecca over the phone a couple days later. From the front porch, she waved
to Nonni, who was zooming by in the golf cart, off to pickleball. Liam was not with her.
“Campaign manager for what?” Rebecca said. “What else did I miss?”
“I’m running for mayor,” Gigi announced. “To oust tyrant Camille.”
“Mayor of Mackinac Island ?” Rebecca seemed convinced this was one of Gigi’s pranks.
It took significant explaining before Rebecca began to believe her. Gigi didn’t blame her. She still found it hard to wrap
her head around. The idea of running had felt like a whim at first but was turning into something much sturdier. In some ways
it felt like she’d been zigzagging toward this moment all her life.
“You’re sure you’re not just doing this for the entertainment factor?” Rebecca said. “You actually want to be mayor and have
to deal with the public all the time?”
“I want to be the face of a new generation on the island,” Gigi said. “And tell people what to do without actually having
much responsibility. Mayor is the perfect fit, really.”
“Well, we’ll need to mobilize quickly,” Rebecca said, coming around to it. “It’s August already and the election is in November.”
Gigi could hear her flipping through her calendar. “An eighty-day push.”
Gigi relished the way Rebecca said we. It made her feel like part of a team. They had always been a team, she supposed; she’d just been reluctant about accepting
it, scared that being close to someone more conventional would wear off on her, make her lose her edge. She understood now
that relationships didn’t work like that. A softer reference point just made her corners look sharper.
“I only need two hundred votes to win. It’s kind of a joke,” Gigi said. “I looked up the results from last time. It’s not like I have that many doors to knock on.”
“No, but we’ll need to clarify your messaging,” Rebecca said. “What you stand for, what’s going to get people out to the polls.”
“I stand for kicking out the old regime,” Gigi said. “I stand for change and action and making everyone feel like they can
live here and shine here, no matter if you’re a college dropout or an Ivy League grad or queer or liberal or conservative
or Christian or Buddhist or Jewish or Muslim or a vegan or a carnivore or a tarot card reader or have blue fucking hair.”
Gigi couldn’t remember the last time something had lit her up like this. She waited for Rebecca to pick apart her words, say
she had to tame it down.
“That’s not a bad start,” Rebecca said. “I’m taking notes now. We’ll leave out the f-bombs, but it’s good to let your passion
come through. People want authenticity.”
Gigi hoped this might be true but wasn’t sure based on Camille’s tenure.
“The challenge will be how you inspire the people who want change without alienating the ones who don’t,” Rebecca went on.
“If they don’t want change, I can’t help them. Camille can have those voters.”
“Remember the demographics of the island, and particularly those who actually vote. They’re older, more conservative. You
can’t disenfranchise the base.”
“I’m not going to become some political puppet,” Gigi said. “If I go down, I’ll go down in style.”
Mayor was a nonpartisan position on Mackinac, so she didn’t have to pick a party. She was very glad about this. Political
parties were a scam if she’d ever seen one, putting people into boxes and stripping out all original thinking.
“The more I think about it,” Rebecca said, still typing up her notes, the click, click of the keyboard audible through the airwaves, “the more I realize how you’re made for this job.”
“I get to be the boss without working my way up the ladder,” Gigi said. “I just have to emotionally manipulate people into
voting for me.”
“I don’t think politicians call it emotional manipulation. I think they call it inspiring their constituents.”
“This is why you’re my campaign manager. Adding value from day one.”
“The timing is good,” Rebecca prattled on excitedly. “Since I decided not to apply for grad schools this year, this gives
me a good project to focus on.”
Gigi probed more about why Rebecca wasn’t pursuing grad school after all. She didn’t like the idea that her talented sister
was sitting home all day alone. She told Rebecca as much.
“Well, I’m not technically alone,” Rebecca said.
“Sadie doesn’t count,” Gigi said, though she did love that little pup.
“Not just Sadie...” Rebecca trailed off. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone? Especially Mom?”
Was Rebecca about to confess an affair? Gigi was riveted. “I promise.”
“You have a new title coming your way,” Rebecca said. “In addition to mayor.”
“Enough with the riddles. Spit it out.”
“Aunt,” Rebecca said. “You’re going to be Aunt Gigi.”
Gigi felt the thrill in her spine. “You’re pregnant?”
“Shhh,” Rebecca said. “You’re the only one who knows other than Tom.”
This touched Gigi deeply. So she had beaten out Maggie the Maid of Honor in the end. “Why are you keeping it a secret?”
“It’s still early. Things could go wrong.”
“Or they could go right,” Gigi said, like she had at the beginning of Eloise and Clyde’s relationship. And she’d been correct
about that; the proposal was proof.
“I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have them come crashing down.”
“Then you’ll never feel anything at all. You’ll always be in the middle. Where’s the fun in that? Go to the top and if you fall, we’ll be here for you. That’s what family’s for, right?”
There was a silence, a sniffle. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to be my maid of honor,” Rebecca said.
“It’s fine,” Gigi said. “I would’ve complained about it anyway. And I would’ve given a messy, drunken speech and distracted
from your big day.”
“Still... if I could do it over, it would be you.”
It was gratifying to hear this, more so than Gigi had expected. “You’ve done enough for me over the years. Coming to find
me after I ran away, giving me money when I’ve needed it. I know I haven’t thanked you very well.”
A long pause followed. Rebecca seemed rather emotional today, though that could just be the pregnancy.
“You can throw me a baby shower to make up for it. Come up with a creative theme. But first we’re going to get you elected
mayor.”
Gigi thought that sounded good. “When are you going to tell Mom about the baby?”
She’d started calling Eloise Mom again. She wasn’t so worried anymore about Eloise micromanaging her. In many ways, Gigi could see how she’d tried to control
her mother too—judging her for how she dressed (too conservative), how she dated (not enough), how she worked (a boring job).
The irony was rich, Gigi could see now. And though she had called her mother Eloise to remind herself that she was an adult now, calling her Mom again actually made her feel more mature, like she didn’t need to trick herself into believing she was a grown-up; it was
just the natural state of things.
“At the three-month mark,” Rebecca said. “Mid-September.”
“I like that it’s our secret for now,” Gigi said. “Just between sisters.”
“What’s one of yours?” Rebecca asked. “A secret?”
“I’ve tried drugs. Psychedelics, crazy shit.”
“That’s not a secret.”
Gigi thought harder. She decided Rebecca could be trusted with a bigger one. “I think I sort-of-maybe-hypothetically-but-not-hypothetically-accidentally-yet-intentionally
might like James.” She rushed the words together, but Rebecca seemed to catch every one.
“I knew it!” Rebecca whooped. “Mom is never going to let you live this down. You know that, right?”
“I’m aware.” Gigi told Rebecca about the backstory with Lillian and how James had brought those dandelions to the lake. “There
was almost a moment between us, but I told him I just wanted to be friends.”
Rebecca groaned.
“He’s leaving at the end of the summer,” Gigi explained. “I don’t want to repeat my past mistakes.”
“Nothing about James is a repeat of any guy you’ve ever dated.”
“Well, he’s still leaving,” Gigi said. “That’s a similarity.”
“Maybe he’d stay if you asked him,” Rebecca said. “Sometimes people just need to know someone wants them around.”
“Are we talking about James or you? Because if you’re asking, then yes, I want you to move back to the island, Rebecca. It’s
terrible having to be the responsible daughter all the time.”
Rebecca sounded pleased. “We’re actually starting to bond with our neighbors here. But Mackinac is in our five-year plan.
Tom is on board.”
“He’s really not so bad, that Todd.” Gigi said it with a grin, misnaming him the way their mom used to.
“Ha-ha,” Rebecca said. “He’s been in a much better mood since I stopped trying to force him to eat all these exotic dinners.
He finally sat me down and told me I was trying to make him into someone more interesting than he was. And that he was a simple
man and liked plain food but he felt like he was letting me down when he didn’t rave about my experimental cooking. So now
we do chicken and salad and tacos.”
“That’s the trick to a happy life, isn’t it?” Gigi said. “Letting go of how we think people should be, how we think we should be, and embracing what is.”
“Who’s the philosophical one now? I can’t wait for the voters to see all the different sides to you. You’re going to demolish
Camille. Everyone likes an underdog.”
“I wouldn’t call myself the underdog,” Gigi said, though she certainly would be. “But yeah, it’s going to be a landslide victory.
One for the ages.”