Chapter 22
Anne
The back porch of the Mackinac Public Library overlooked the straits, with a view of the lighthouse.
On the afternoon of the tea party, white clouds sailed in the blue, blue sky.
White boats skimmed on the sparkling blue water.
White Adirondack chairs dotted the lawn rolling down to a rocky beach.
The sun shone, and the breeze off the lake scattered pink petals on the grass, and my heart soared like a gull on the wind.
“This is Liv,” Hailey said, grabbing a tall, fair girl by the hand and dragging her over. “She brought her sisters, too.”
I looked over their heads to the picnic table where two little blond girls sat making flower crowns with Zoe. “It’s so great to meet you,” I said.
Hailey rolled her eyes. “Don’t get weird. She thinks I need more friends,” she said to Liv. But she was smiling.
“Hey, somebody has to help us with all this food. Or we’re going to be eating leftover cookies for dinner.”
“I’d love cookies for dinner,” Liv said, and Hailey laughed.
“Cookies are the best,” I agreed. Mei-Ling and I had once made an entire dinner out of Girl Scout Thin Mints and red wine.
Although with the crowd our little party on the porch was attracting, there might not be any leftovers. The hot July sun had brought the island out in force—library patrons browsing the stacks, summer people picking books from the sale carrel, day-trippers strolling and biking along the waterfront.
The girls wandered off to join the group around Zoe. My mother and Hailey’s mom, Nicole, hovered over the tea table, cutting cake and refilling platters of scones.
“Wonderful party,” Beverly Powell said, appearing at my elbow.
I flushed with pleasure. I guess you never got over the need to impress your favorite teacher. “Thanks, Mrs. P.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you called me Beverly?”
“I can’t. I mean, I’ll try. Thank you.”
She followed my gaze to the picnic table where Liv was balancing a daisy chain on her sister’s hair while Hailey took pictures. “Zoe told me you’ve really brought Hailey out of her shell. It’s nice to see the girls so engaged. What are they doing?”
“It’s the #GreenGablesChallenge.” Beverly looked blank. “For BookTok?”
“Ah, yes. Anne Shirley and her flower crowns.”
“I thought it would help Hailey find other Anne fans.”
“Very clever. We have story time for our youngest patrons, but we could really use more events for the upper grades. You should start a book club.”
“Oh my gosh, I would love to.” Let’s not go crazy, Hailey said in my head. “But I’m only here for the summer.”
“I didn’t realize.” She gave me a long, measuring look, as if she’d caught me reading Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor & Park behind the cover of Moby Dick. Which, to be fair, she had. “How are you finding teaching in Chicago?”
I resisted the urge to squirm. “It’s fine. Not exactly what I expected, but…”
“In what way?”
“Well.” I was not blurting out my job woes to my teaching idol. “The whole Zoom thing, for starters.”
She smiled sympathetically. “Online teaching. That was an adjustment for everyone.”
“I felt really lucky to be hired at all,” I said. “Especially at Ravenscrest. I hoped…It’s a private school. Smaller class sizes. More individual instruction. Fewer restrictions, I thought.”
She sipped her tea without comment, giving me a chance to form my thoughts, making it easier for me to talk. Classic teacher trick.
“There’s just a lot of stuff,” I said.
“The first years are always hard. I can’t imagine dealing with that and the pandemic, too. Until you’re doing the job, you don’t realize how much time things like paperwork and test prep and soothing anxious parents actually take. It’s like working a second shift without pay.”
My throat felt tight. “The pay’s fine. And I love teaching.
It’s just…I wish I had more support from my department head,” I blurted.
I hadn’t heard from Sarah in weeks, not even a text.
I understood she had to protect her own job.
But her silence, after boxing up my books, felt like a kind of betrayal.
“Oh?”
“I had a parent complain,” I confessed. “About my classroom library.”
“Ah.”
“It’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve been called to the principal’s office,” I joked.
She didn’t laugh.
I swallowed hard. “The thing is…I thought I was helping. That’s why I became a teacher. To help students make sense of themselves and the world, to encourage them to read and think and feel. And now the principal says I should reconsider whether I’m a good fit for the school.”
“He’s right.”
Her words struck me like a stone in the stomach. “What?”
“Anne, this isn’t about you. You were a delightful student. Creative, imaginative, and passionate. I am sure those same qualities make you a wonderful teacher. Teaching is hard. You deserve to be someplace you will be trusted and supported. A school where you can feel appreciated.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. If I wasn’t a good fit for Ravenscrest…maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Maybe I simply hadn’t yet found the place I could belong. Someplace you can feel appreciated. My eyes stung.
“Oh my gosh, this is so pretty!” Daanis exclaimed behind me.
I turned, dashing at my eyes. “You came!”
“Of course. Sorry we’re late. Oof.” She shifted Rose on her hip to hug me, her face flushed, her belly straining against her dress. “I had to wrestle this little munchkin. Hi, Mrs. Powell.”
“It’s Beverly, dear.”
Rose struggled to get down. “Cookie!”
“You sit down. I’ll take her.” I held out my hand. “Come on, kiddo. Do you want to make a crown? Like a princess?”
I got her a snack and settled her on the bench between Liv’s little sisters before making my way back to Daanis.
“Here you go, pal. Raspberry iced tea. Decaf,” I added.
“Thanks.” She accepted the glass gratefully. “I am so sick of plain old water. My doctor says I need to drink ten cups a day.”
“What are you growing in there, a baby camel?”
She laughed. “Feels like a baby elephant. I don’t care, as long as it’s healthy.”
I squeezed her hand.
“When are you due?” Beverly asked.
“Five weeks. Fingers crossed.” Daanis dug in her mom bag and handed me a paperback. “Here. This is for you.”
Beverly leaned over to see the cover, the dreamy red-haired girl knee-deep in flowers on the shoreline, the man in the background. “Anne of the Island. Has Hailey read that one yet?”
“Not yet. She’s read the first two. She’s dying to find out what happens between Anne and Gilbert.”
“Sorry it took me so long to find it,” Daanis said.
I hugged the book to my chest like a talisman. “Are you kidding? This is great.”
Because she had held on to it for all these years. Because she’d gone to the trouble to find it. Because our friendship mattered. Maybe she didn’t cling to Anne’s story the way I did, but she recognized what it meant to me.
I lunged at her, all my messy emotions finding release in another hug. When I let her go, her eyes were wet, too.
“Hailey!” I whirled, waving the book above my head. “Look what Daanis brought!”
—
I was sitting on a boulder at the water’s edge, surrounded by people I loved, a tipsy crown of honeysuckle trailing down my hair, a smudge of chocolate on my skirt from Rose’s sticky hands.
Daanis was playing with Rose, putting plastic spoons in a cup and taking them out again.
Zoe tucked a flower into Beverly’s hair, bringing a blush to her wife’s plain face.
I missed my dad. I squeezed my eyes shut, absorbing the sound of water sloshing against the rocks and my mother’s voice floating on the air.
I could almost feel him, his love carried on the breeze, enveloping as the sun.
I let myself bask in it, acceptance washing over me in waves.
In this place, in this breath of time, I belonged.
Free to make friends. Free to be myself, mistakes and all.
Not grieving or guessing, not worrying about the future or sticking to some plan, but simply living in the moment.
When I opened my eyes, Joe was standing on the boardwalk, watching me.
My heart thrummed. “What brings you here?”
He held up a fan of pink napkins. “Mom said you were running low.”
“Oh.” Warmth washed my cheeks like sunburn. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I wanted to check things out anyway. Since I wasn’t invited,” he said, straight-faced.
I scoffed and stood. “Like you were dying to come to a tea party with your little sister.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” His gaze narrowed on my face. “What?”
“I’m picturing you drinking tea with a bunch of dolls,” I said honestly.
And remembering the Super Bowl party with my housemates in Chicago, where we’d posed assorted stuffed mascots with bottles of beer and took pictures of them looking “drunk.” I winced. Sarah had not been happy when that got out on social media.
Joe’s mouth quirked. “Hey, not only dolls. Woody was there. And Pooh Bear.”
My breath tangled. I could see Joe, his long legs folded on a little chair, patiently playing pretend with his kid sister. My heart melted.
Hailey bounced over. “Hey, bro.”
“Hi, Joe,” Liv said, twirling her hair in the way of teenage girls everywhere. “Want a cookie?”
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
“How about a drink?” I offered.
“We have strawberry lemonade or raspberry iced tea,” Hailey informed him. “I wanted currant wine, like in the book? But Anne—our Anne, not book Anne—said no alcohol.”
Our Anne. I felt a starburst of pleasure at the nickname.
“Iced tea is fine,” Joe said.
I poured his tea, ignoring the quick, interested glance from his mother.
“When you finish that, you can haul some of this home,” Nicole said.
“Sure.”
“I can help,” I offered.
This time, it was my mom who looked from me to Joe and back again, a pleat forming between her eyebrows.
I busied myself collecting empty serving plates while Joe drank his tea and bagged up the trash.
“We’ll be home in an hour,” Nicole said as he loaded the cooler onto a handcart. “An hour and a half, tops.”
As if she expected to come home and find a sock on Joe’s bedroom door. My flush deepened. Not that he had…
Not that we would…
“Ready?” Joe asked.
“Yes!” Too loud. Too eager.
His mouth crooked.
I ducked my head, avoiding my mother’s eyes.
We climbed the hill to the Village, the sun striking through the leaves. Birds flitted and called in the trees. From the carriage barns, the smell of hay and horses carried on the breeze.
“Thanks for being nice to my sister,” Joe said.
The starburst in my chest swelled, radiating heat through my whole body. “It’s easy. Today was fun.”
“Yeah.” He frowned at the road ahead as if it were a problem he had to solve.
We moved to the side of the road as a big three-horse-hitch carriage plodded by with a load of visitors touring the island. I waved.
“She told me a little about her ADHD,” I said as we resumed walking. “You know, she doesn’t need you to fix her. Some things she just has to figure out on her own. All you can do is love her.”
“You would know.”
Why would I know? Because Hailey and I were kindred spirits? Because I didn’t want someone to fix me, either? Because I wanted Joe to lo— My heart stumbled.
“Because you’re a teacher,” he said.
Right. Right. “That doesn’t make me an expert.”
“And you’re female,” he continued, oblivious.
I pulled my straggling thoughts into line. “Hailey said something about ADHD presenting differently in girls,” I said.
“No, yeah. Guys have it easy. They can dig a hole or kick a ball or go fishing and that makes them friends. Girls need…”
“Tea parties,” I supplied.
A corner of his mouth ticked. “Something like that. How did you get her to invite Liv?”
“Extortion.”
He shot me a startled look.
I grinned. “You know Liv has a crush on you.”
He grunted.
“Not that I blame her,” I added. “You do have that whole tall, dark, and broody older-man vibe going on.”
“I’m not brooding,” he said wryly. “I’m keeping my distance.”
“Scared of a teenage girl. So sad.”
He glanced at me, that smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a teenager anymore.”
Our eyes held for a long moment. My pulse jumped. “Glad you realize it.” My voice was husky.
A yellow-wheeled taxi trotted by in the opposite direction, carrying a family out to dinner. I held my breath, waiting for Joe to do something. Say something. Touch me.
He kept walking. I fell into step beside him. He did not take my hand. But every now and then our shoulders brushed, and I felt the slight contact all the way up and down my side. The houses of the Village straggled into view, ringed with gardens and fences.
Something about the yard…My steps slowed. Something about my yard was different. My eyes widened. “Wait. The well. Did you…” I looked at Joe. “When did you fix it?”
“Two days ago.”
I flushed. “Sometimes it takes me a while to notice things.”
“Sure.”
“I love it!” I yanked open the gate and ran inside to lean over the edge. No pennies. I plucked a dandelion from the grass and tossed it into the well. Make a wish…
What did I want? Did I even know? World peace, a return to normalcy, a healthy baby for Daanis…
Somewhere I could belong. Big wishes, important wishes, too huge to be bought with a flower.
Stay in the moment. I was done projecting into an uncertain future.
I couldn’t go on hoping for things that might never happen. And yet…
I turned and beamed at Joe. “Thanks.”
He smiled a little, keeping his eyes on my face. “Anytime.”
My heart thumped. Now.
I walked out the gate. “Is this a situationship?”
His forehead creased. “What?”
“It’s okay if it is. It’s just…We slept together in Chicago. Actually slept, obviously, not had sex. But you did kiss me. And I felt really close to you, and you’ve barely talked to me since we got back. I wondered if you’re avoiding me or if it was just a road trip thing.”
He raised his brows. “You mean like The Hangover? What stays in Vegas?”
“No. It’s another romance trope.” I watched my step, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. “A road trip—forced proximity, an emotional journey, deep conversation, time away from the real world. An escape from reality.”
We had reached his mother’s house. He dropped the handle of the cart and turned to face me. My mouth was dry.
“That kiss,” he said, and stopped. I licked my lips. His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “It felt pretty real to me.”
My arms broke out in goose bumps. I could barely breathe.
“You want to come in?” he asked.