Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Willa
It was Monday morning when Steve and the rest of the camera crew came to Mackinac Island from Chicago.
Armed with four carriages ready to take them to the Isaacson stables, Willa greeted them at the ferry docks, helped them pile and safely secure their supplies aboard, and prepared them for the day ahead.
“We don’t have a ton of time,” she said, “because the light’s so strange this far north.
We’re going to lose it. But we’re going to do what we can today. Hopefully, we can get it all in.”
The crew had hotel rooms ready for them, she explained, and they could expense whatever horse and buggy ride they required to take them to and from the shoot.
From the expressions of the crew, Willa could tell that coming to Mackinac Island was incredibly exciting and bizarre.
No cars? Horse and buggy? A winter wonderland in the middle of a ginormous lake?
She understood how strange it probably seemed.
But she couldn’t let her crew get distracted.
The Christmas Festival itself was just around the corner, and she prayed that the weather would hold so they could get enough footage, both for Marius’s commercial and the others she had planned.
On their way up to the stables, Steve and Willa sat together, discussing Steve’s trip up from Chicago.
Because they’d worked together on so many projects at this point, they had a rapport that made Willa think of brothers and sisters (not that she knew what that was like).
However, because they were so close, Steve sensed something was amiss from the outset.
“What’s up, Boss?” he asked.
Their carriage glided down a gorgeous, wintry lane, lined with crisp white snow.
Willa sighed. She wasn’t sure what she could tell Steve or what would get back to her bosses in Chicago. Then again, her life in Chicago currently felt like it belonged to somebody else. Messing it up from here almost didn’t seem possible anymore.
“I grew up here,” she said finally.
Steve barked with laughter. “Wait, you’re kidding, right?”
Willa gave him a look that meant she wouldn’t kid about something like this.
Steve’s face fell. “Wow. I mean, how did this happen? Kevin said they sought you out specifically to direct.”
“Yeah. They wanted the hometown director to come back,” Willa said with a groan. “I didn’t leave on good terms, and they want me to fix it. Or something like that.”
“Ah.” Steve narrowed his eyes. “You were set up.”
“I was indeed,” Willa said. “And it’s been complicated, to say the least.”
“You couldn’t get out of the gig?”
“Nope.” Willa adjusted her hat, tugging it low over her ears. “The guy who owns the horse stables is, um, also complicated. For me. If you get my drift.”
Steve threw his head back in disbelief. “Willa, in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never mentioned anyone complicated in your life. No boyfriends. No family. Nothing.”
“It’s all here,” Willa said, gesturing around at the trees, laden with snow.
“Not a bad place to have baggage,” Steve said. “You need my help with anything?”
Willa shook her head. “Let’s just make the best commercials we can and get out of here. Chicago is calling! Maybe I’ll work all through Christmas and have a lonely January, like always. I can’t wait to get back to my old life.”
“Aye aye, Boss,” he said, winking.
But even as Willa said it, her heartstrings felt tugged.
After the carriages arrived at the stables, Willa got out to oversee the setup and address any questions her crew had.
At a distance, she could see Marius, talking with a few of his stable hands, gesturing toward the camera crew.
He was probably telling them where they could go to avoid being in the shot.
She and Marius had had a long phone conversation about it last night.
Willa was jittery with nerves, and Marius was calm and collected, eager to lend a hand.
They hadn’t seen one another since last week, and now, Willa fought the urge to leap over the fence that separated them and burrow herself in his arms.
On the phone, she’d said to Marius, “I saw my dad.”
And he’d said, “How did that go?”
She’d said, “We were all at the house where I grew up. I couldn’t eat anything. I didn’t know what to do.”
And this was true. She’d sat at the table, surrounded by family members, her father across from her.
She’d alternated between thoughts of anger and resentment and thoughts of fear and love and sorrow.
With her fork, she’d traced lines across her chicken, avoiding Amelie’s eye.
She knew that Amelie wanted to talk more about this, to discuss what was wrong with their father and how they could fix it. But what if none of this was fixable?
“My grandmother said they don’t know if he’ll get better,” she’d told Marius. “They still don’t really know what it is.”
“It came on fast,” Marius had said. “That’s why he closed the fudge shop the way he did. The whole island’s worried about him. But you know how beloved Frank is.”
Willa hadn’t known how to respond to that, so she’d gotten off the phone as quickly as she could.
Now, Marius strode toward the camera crew, raising a sturdy hand in hello. Steve sidled up to Willa, muttering, “Well, he’s handsome, all right. What a person to have a past with!”
Willa groaned. “Don’t be weird.”
“Never,” Steve promised.
When Marius reached the crew, Willa made a big show of shaking his hand and introducing him to everyone.
Very soon, the customer and makeup artist rushed him away for prep.
The horses he and Willa had selected for the shoot were waiting for them in the first barn, cleaned up and ready for their close-ups.
Willa led Steve into the bar, where she put her hand on Brax’s nose and breathed in his warmth.
“It’s like a fairy tale, Willa,” Steve said dreamily. “Why won’t you ride with Marius into the sunset?”
Willa rolled her eyes and kept working, ordering her team about in a way that was constructive and kind, she hoped.
Within two hours, they were ready for their first shots: Marius riding on horseback across the fields, Marius brushing their gleaming coats, and Marius feeding them.
After that, he got in the carriage with a camera operator beside him, behind him, and to the left of him, and they filmed him as he drove from the stables and into downtown.
Willa, in a carriage behind him, watched the monitors on several different screens and was grateful that they didn’t have to do more than seven takes to get enough footage.
She didn’t want to take up more of Marius’s time than necessary.
They finished just before nightfall. Steve and the camera crew hurried to put everything away and check into their hotel, where they’d already promised each other several rounds of beer, a warm, roaring fire in the fireplace, and maybe a few games of cards.
Willa thanked everyone for the wonderful day and said she’d have information for their next day of work by tomorrow morning.
“In the meantime, enjoy the island!” she instructed. “And get warm!”
With the carriages stocked and headed off for the hotel, Willa hung back, surprised by her desire to talk to Marius a little bit more.
Mostly, she wanted to thank him for his cooperation, for taking the entire day to accommodate her “creative vision,” or whatever.
She also wanted to show him the footage because he looked good.
That wasn’t just the cameraman’s work, wasn’t just the cinematographer’s, wasn’t just hers.
That was Marius’s excellent genes and sleek, athletic way of moving. That was Marius, pure and simple.
Marius was waiting for her on the front porch with two mugs of hot cocoa and a mysterious smile. They hadn’t talked all day, beyond what they’d needed to say professionally. Willa felt a smile tugging on either side of her lips. She gave it to him, if only momentarily.
“Let me show you what we did,” she said, when she couldn’t think of anything else.
They went inside, where Marius built a fire and ordered Willa to get cozy.
Willa was reminded of romantic novels, cabins, forests, being snowed in and falling in love.
She reminded herself that she wasn’t the type of woman to fall for such things.
With the fire roaring, Marius sat in the chair beside hers and leaned over to see what she’d shot that day.
Within seconds, he gasped. “This is incredible! But Willa, it’s a lie!”
Willa blinked at him with surprise. She stopped the film. “What do you mean? A lie?” Her thoughts raced.
Marius’s face echoed light and humor. “I mean, look at me! You made me look so different from myself. I look like a handsome, mysterious man from the woods. I look like a model from a commercial! How did you do that?”
Willa let out a wry laugh. Her lips ached with the desire to press into his. “This isn’t a lie, Marius. This is what you look like!”
Marius sipped his cocoa and rolled his eyes. “You put a filter on it. Something. Whatever. Show me the rest.”
Willa complied, showing him the rest. Throughout, she couldn’t help but watch real-life Marius’s expressions as he watched commercial Marius on the screen. It was clear he’d never seen himself the way the world saw him. Had he always disliked himself? Was that it?
Willa’s heart went out to him.
But when they’d finished their cocoa, Willa was overcome with the desire to flee.
She wondered if Marius thought she was going to stay—stay for dinner, at least—and wasn’t sure she wanted to get tied up in something so complicated.
Her mouth went dry. She stood and made an excuse.
“Things with my sister are strange, and, yeah, she needs my help down at the fudge shop.” She took a step toward the door but felt herself pulled back toward him.
She decided that she would stay if he asked her to.
But Marius wasn’t the type of guy to get in the way of her family problems. “Of course. Amelie needs you,” he said, taking her dirty mug and walking to the kitchen. “I can give you a ride into town. No problem.”
Willa fought the urge to kiss him again. She wondered why she couldn’t let herself give in.
All the way to Caraway Fudge Shoppe, Willa’s chest banged with fear. They didn’t speak much, and Willa let herself engage with the dark sky and twinkling stars. It was rare to have such a clear night like this in mid-December, a night that wasn’t burdened with snow clouds. It felt magical.
When they reached downtown, he slowed the horses and smiled at her. “I hope that isn’t the last I’ll see of you, now that the commercial’s done.”
The idea terrified Willa. She had to see him again. Soon. But she didn’t know how to ask, so she said, “I’m sure we’ll run into each other.”
“Good night, Willa,” he said.
“Good night.”
Willa got out of the carriage and waved as he turned a corner and went out of sight.
She checked her phone for the time: almost seven, which meant that she could still help Amelie with cleanup.
But when she reached the big display window, ready to run inside and pick up a broom, she stopped at a beautiful sight: Amelie and Pascal, scrubbing the glass counter, eating slivers of fudge, and laughing together.
Willa was moved. Rather than interrupt them, she backed away from the glass, thinking back to those lost evenings, when she and Amelie would watch their mother and father through the glass window, closing down the fudge shop, their eyes echoing their love.
But as she walked down Lake Shore Drive, adjusting her gloves on her hands, she wondered what it was about Amelie that allowed her to welcome Pascal’s adoration—and what it was about her that couldn’t accept Marius’s.
Was Willa permanently broken?