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.”
After that, Willa walked Marius through each scene of the Christmas commercial. They discussed which of his horses would be best, how he could maneuver the carriage through downtown, and what light was best for each stage of the filming process. Willa wrote up a big document, which she would later send to her crew. Steve and the others had already agreed to come up as early as next week.
When they were finished, Willa stood and shook Marius’s hand. He held it for too long, his skin warm and calloused from his years of hard work. “I have a couple more hours of work before I can take you to dinner,” he said, proof that he hadn’t forgotten their deal. “Why don’t you hang out here for a little while? Make yourself at home?” He gestured toward the cabinet, explaining that there was plenty of wine, crackers, peanuts, and cheese if she wanted a snack.
“You’ll have to tell me what kind of food you’re hungry for,” he said, walking backward out of the kitchen and reaching for his coat. “Working all day long outside makes me so hungry. Anything goes.”
Willa said she’d think about it. When the door closed behind him, she sat in stunned silence, both of her palms on the kitchen table. She couldn’t believe she was going out to dinner with Marius Isaacson after all this time.
Hours later, Marius parked his carriage a block down from the Mackinac steak house, where they grabbed a seat by the window and ordered a bottle of wine. Through the window, Willa watched as gentle snowfall fell, tourists and locals milling about, dressed in so many winter clothes that they seemed to struggle to walk. The steak house was decorated with Christmastrees, string lights, and little angels, and the Christmas music “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas”was piped through the speakers.
A man eating alone and one reading a book were the only other people in the restaurant. They kept glancing over at Marius and Willa until Marius waved over at them and said, “Hey, Barb. Tom. How are you?”
Barb and Tom were in their fifties and relatively new on the island, apparently. Marius explained in a slight whisper that Barb had previously wanted Marius to date their daughter Stacy, but Marius hadn’t wanted to. “It means they’re mad that I’m out with someone else,” he said, giving Willa a funny smile.
“Is that right?” Willa said. “Everyone always wants to meddle.”
“On this island, for sure. What about in the big city? Do your friends meddle with your life there?” Marius asked.
Willa thought of her countless nights alone, eating dinner alone, watching television alone, and going for walks alone. There wasn’t anyone to meddle with her life back there.
“Not as much,” she said, because it was too embarrassing to say that she didn’t have anyone, not even a friend.
They ordered steaks, potatoes, and asparagus. Willa knew she needed to ask about the fudge shop, about what was going on with her family. But she was caught up in the good time she and Marius were having, telling funny stories from their pasts and making too much eye contact.
Barb and Tom were just about sick of them. Willa could hear Barb saying, “He thinks he’s too good for our daughter? I don’t understand it. They could have had a wonderful life.” It was clear they thought Willa was just a tourist, someone passing through. But wasn’t that what Willa was? Wasn’t her plan to get out of Mackinac as soon as she’d filmed the commercials?
