Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Willa
The night after the Christmas Festival Committee meeting, Willa stayed up late, writing a brand-new script for a commercial to be filmed at Marius’s horse barn.
Remembering how the committee and Gavin had looked at her during her speech, she felt fueled and alive, typing quickly, visualizing each scene.
When it came time to sleep, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and lay down, listening to the rushing wind against Rosemary Cottage.
Each time she closed her eyes, she saw Hannah and the others in the festival, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and anger, as though daring her to ask them what was really on her mind. Why are you doing this to me?
Despite the lateness of the hour, Gavin texted.
GAVIN: Just talked to Kevin! He’s thrilled with the work you’re doing in that sad-sack little town. Sorry I had to leave you there. I can try to come back when you start filming your first commercial. Let me know what you need.
Willa threw her phone to the end of her bed and continued to stare through the darkness. The last thing she wanted was for Gavin to come back. (Of course, she was grateful that Gavin had passed on word of her work to Kevin, her boss back in Chicago.)
Willa knew that at this point, it was her fault that she hadn’t responded to Amelie. But Amelie’s text was so cryptic. The fudge shop was closed. Nothing more. What did it mean?
After a fitful night of sleep, Willa woke up early, did an exercise routine in the living room, ate some eggs, drank a pot of coffee, and got ready for her trip to the Isaacson horse stables.
She dressed in layers and wrapped herself in scarves.
By the time she was out on the road on her mother’s old Schwinn, her heart pounded so hard that she had to relearn how to breathe.
Up the hill she went, her legs pedaling fast, until she spotted the horse barns and slowed.
In the fields surrounding the multiple barns were gorgeous horses, grazing or sweeping toward the sunshine, their manes flapping.
She was moved. Imagine seeing that every morning when you woke up, she thought, as she got back on the bike seat and continued.
With a sharp laugh, she remembered that a part of her had thought she’d marry Marius Isaacson and live on this very farm. She’d been seventeen and smitten with him. And in a small town like this, it wasn’t a rare thing to marry the first person you loved.
Things hadn’t gone that way for Willa.
Willa parked the bike in the warm, dry barn, then strode toward the big house, pretending to be braver than she was.
But right before she knocked, she heard her name.
“Willa! I’m out here!” She turned to see Marius standing in the doorway of the very barn she’d just exited, bringing a dark barn horse into the fenced-in area between them.
Standing there, strong and sturdy and dressed in his winter clothes, he looked sensational: every bit the sort of man who belonged in a Christmas commercial set in a Mackinac Island horse barn.
She wondered if he’d go for it. He’d probably want one of his employees to be the actor instead.
Willa returned to the barn, watching as Marius allowed the horse to join the others in the fields before clamping the fence closed behind him. Marius clapped his thick gloves together and returned to her, smiling in a way that made her chest fill with panic.
“Yesterday’s call was a surprise,” he said finally.
Willa pulled her eyes to the icy lake, which shone beneath a gray sky. “I had a ton of different ideas for marketing the Christmas Festival,” she said softly. “But when I sat down with the committee, I realized none of them were good enough. I panicked. I thought of you.”
Marius’s lips softened. A gust of wind blew through them, fluttering the dark hair that curled under his hat. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“That would be nice.”
They went inside. Willa spent what felt like ten minutes removing her numerous winter layers, listening as Marius made a fresh pot of coffee and whistled.
When Willa appeared in the kitchen, he pulled a tray of apple muffins from the oven and put them on the stove to cool.
Everything smelled of cinnamon, soft apples, and nutmeg. Willa’s mouth watered.
“I thought, you know, you’d want a snack,” he said, pouring the coffee. “I don’t have visitors very often.”
Willa found this hard to believe. What about the women he surely dated?
What about an ex-wife, a friend from downtown, a few of his stable employees?
She sat at the kitchen table with her muffin and cup of coffee, scanning the kitchen, which was decorated but lacked personal touches.
She guessed it was similar to what it had looked like when Marius was a boy, before he’d taken over his father’s stables.
“This is lovely,” Willa said. “Thank you.” She took a bite of the warm muffin. It was sensational, far better than a muffin she might buy in the city. It was made with human hands, with love. “Wow, Marius. This is really good.”
Marius laughed and sat down on the other side of the kitchen table. “You sound surprised.”
“I don’t mean to be.” Willa folded her hands. “It’s just, you know. The last time I saw you, you were eighteen.”
“I didn’t have any skills back then,” Marius agreed, laughing.
“Well, that’s not true. You always had a way with animals.”
“I guess so.” Marius sipped his coffee. “Dad passed away about six years ago. Mom wanted to move off the island. She’s with her sister in Lansing.”
Willa’s eyes smarted. So much had changed. “Why did you want to stay?”
“It’s my father’s legacy,” Marius said. “And I can’t imagine leaving it.”
Willa knew that this wasn’t the conversation they were meant to be having.
She was supposed to be outlining the commercial, asking him for permission, pestering him to be the actor in her glorious, snow-filled Christmas ad.
But she felt as though she wanted to absorb his stories, know everything about his past, and understand the person he was now.
Where was his wife, his children? Why hadn’t he extended his line so that he could pass down the horse barn one day?
Willa sniffed, trying to calm down her swirling thoughts.
“Listen,” she said, “I hope it’s okay that I film a commercial here next week?
I’d really like you to be involved as well.
You complete the picture of why these stables are important and why it’s so magical to ride by horse and buggy through Mackinac. ”
Marius guffawed. “I’m no actor.”
“You’re better than an actor,” Willa said.
“And if I remember correctly, weren’t you Romeo in our high school production of Romeo and Juliet?
” Willa remembered his monologues, hand over his heart as he seemed to sizzle with love for his “Juliet,” who’d been played by another girl in their school. Willa had ached with jealousy.
“I retired from acting after that play,” Marius said, laughing.
Willa leaned over the table, muffin forgotten. She was pouring into her old memories, the smells and the laughter and the songs on the radio. “But Gwennie was in love with you, if I remember correctly? She wanted to date you after the play!”
Marius chortled. “She did, yeah. She told everyone.”
“But you didn’t, did you?” Willa asked. The play must have been a few months before she and Amelie had abandoned the island, before everything had happened.
“No,” Marius said. “Even after you left, Gwennie and I didn’t pursue anything. I didn’t feel anything for her.” He took a sip of coffee and added, “I tried to get married once. I was engaged for about two years.”
Here it is, Willa thought. The juicy parts from our past.
“What happened?” Willa asked.
“I don’t think we ever really knew each other,” Marius said gently.
“At one point, she mentioned moving off the island, trying on a new life together. I hadn’t realized that was on her to-do list. I’d pictured us raising our kids here, teaching them about the horses, building on what my family already had.
I think she thought I could convince her to go anywhere and do anything.
” He clucked his tongue. “Maybe I didn’t love her enough. Maybe that was my fault.”
Willa had an instinct to reach over the table and touch his hand, but she held herself back. “She didn’t understand you. It’s so hard to be understood.”
“Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever relate to anyone who didn’t grow up here,” Marius said.
Willa let her eyes drop. How often had she had that thought? Oh, but she’d shoved it to the side, telling herself, first, that dating didn’t matter to her, and second, that anyone who grew up on Mackinac Island knew too much about her, if anything. It was better to keep quiet.
There was a long moment of silence. Willa traced her thigh with the tips of her fingers, forgetting why she’d come. And then she jerked her head up and asked, “Why is the fudge shop closed?”
Marius looked tremendously sad. After a long time, he said, “There’s so much you don’t know.”
Willa’s heart pounded. “I don’t know if I’m ready to know any of it. But the committee dragged me back here for a reason.”
“They’re crafty,” Marius said. “When they asked me what I thought, I told them to leave you alone. You’ve been through enough.”
Willa considered asking, So you didn’t want me to come back? But she knew it was more complicated than that.
“Be in my commercial,” she said softly. “Please.”
Marius sighed. “All right. But only if you come to dinner with me tonight.” He hesitated, as though he’d just overstepped and wanted to see if she was going to react. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “I’ll tell you about the fudge shop. I’ll tell you everything.”
Willa nodded, her heart pounding. “It’s a deal.”