Amelie was surprised that Willa had turned her back on film. She’d thrown herself completely into making commercials and advertisements, selling things to people who didn’t need so many things. Amelie hadn’t turned her back on her writing. But it seemed like the writing world was turning its back on her.
She knew she needed to call Willa back. She spent all morning trying to find the strength to reach out. But the universe had other plans for her.
The person who owned the cabin where she’d spent the past four months called to say she needed her place back sooner rather than later. “I know we said nine months, but my boyfriend and I broke up, and I need to come home,” she said, her voice wavering. It was clear she was on the verge of tears.
Amelie stood in stunned silence, realizing that the haven she’d found for herself was suddenly no more.
“I’ll give you your December rent back,” her landlord promised. “And your deposits, of course. I really am sorry. I hope you’ll find somewhere to be by Christmas.”
Amelie told her landlord she’d pack up and leave immediately. It was time to leave Big Sur. Perhaps it was time to get out of California as well. As she shoved her suitcases in the trunk of her clunky Cadillac, she tried to memorize every tree along the edge of the cabin and the specific language of the bubbling river. But she knew that once she turned down Highway 1 and sped out of Big Sur, her memories would begin to drift out of her.
Mackinac Island was the only place in the world emblazoned in her memory. She would never be able to let it go.
Chapter Four
Willa
December 2025
It wasn’t that Willa didn’t try to get out of doing the Mackinac Island Christmas commercials. In the previous few days, she met with three of her bosses, suggesting that other members of the team go to the island, as they’d be better suited for the task. She said that she’d rather work on Chicago-based projects, as she had several client commitments in the city. But her bosses insisted. “Gavin said these people want you and only you. Please don’t mess up our relationship with Gavin, Willa. You know how essential he is to the success of this company.”
Willa smiled and told them how lucky she was to have this opportunity. “I’ll get home and pack!”
Willa was in her Chicago apartment, her suitcase open on her bed. After just a second of looking through her clothes, hanging in the closet, she slumped to the ground and put her head in her hands. She didn’t have to check her phone to know that Ameliehadn’t answered her calls or texted her back. Where was that girl?
To keep her mind off the task at hand, Willa googled her sister and found almost nothing. She knew that Amelie was trying to make it as a novelist, but all she had to show for it were a few short stories and articles from her time as a journalist in Florida. As far as Willa could tell, Amelie lived a wild and ungrounded life. It worried Willa, although she knew it wasn’t her place to say so.
Willa couldn’t believe she’d tried to call Amelie in the first place. They hadn’t spoken in years, and they hadn’t seen each other since that disastrous trip to Tennessee. It was as if Willa had gone out of her mind, as if she thought she could bridge the past and make peace. But they were far beyond that.
Willa wondered how many identical twins were separated so completely, as she and Amelie had been. She assumed it was rare.
Now, Willa was off to Mackinac Island for the first time since age eighteen. She had wanted to tell Amelie that, to see what she would say. Something Willa didn’t want to admit—though she had to, if only to herself—was that she wanted Amelie to come with her. She wanted to drive to Mackinaw City together, drop off their car, and take the ferry to Mackinac Island. She wanted them to walk down Lake Shore Drive together. She wanted them to walk into the Caraway Fudge Shoppe and eat till their stomachs ached.
Uh-oh. Willa’s face was wet with tears. She hurried to the bathroom to scrub her face and dry herself off, and when she returned to the bedroom, she went into overdrive, throwing her clothes into the suitcase and zipping it up.
Could she say her car broke down on the way and she couldn’t make it?
Monday morning, Willa got in her car at eight thirty and drove out of a city blanketed in snow. It was always bittersweet leaving Chicago. It had been her home since age eighteen, the place where she’d come for university, the place where she’d struggled through numerous internships in advertising before nabbing her first gig after graduation. (It was also the place where she’d given up her dreams of being a filmmaker, the place where she’d been forced to reckon with reality.) She’d had friends and a few boyfriends in Chicago; she’d had eleven different apartments. But mostly it was a city that had solidified her belief that being alone was always better, because it meant you could do whatever you wanted, within reason.
She wondered what Amelie thought of her phone calls and decided that Amelie didn’t care anymore. Not about anyone. Not even about her twin sister.
It hurt worse than Willa wanted to admit. She prided herself on never showing her emotions.
At three that afternoon, Willa reached Mackinaw City. Her blood pressure skyrocketed. Although Mackinaw City had always been “on the other side of the Straits” from her home on the island, it had always been the first stop on the mainland, and she’d known countless people who lived and worked here. Like everyone on Mackinac Island, Mackinaw City residents worked in tourism and toiled themselves to the bone during the summer months, when people came from all over the world. Christmas brought another boost, of course, but it was just barely enough to sustain everyone till summer came again.
Willa was distracted, turning her head frantically as she tried to take in everything about the little town, wondering what had changed and what was the same. Even “What’s Up?” by 4 Non Blondes on the radio was from the past. It was surreal. She took corners she’d only ever driven with her mother and father. Georgia and Frank Caraway. How she’d always loved theirnames. She stopped in front of the old candy store and squeezed the steering wheel of her car till her fingers turned bright white.
But Willa had let herself forget that she was on a set schedule. When she pulled into the ferry parking lot, the last boat for the next three hours was pulling away from the dock. “No!” Willa cried. She couldn’t believe she’d let so much time drift past. Now, she’d have to wait.
Willa parked downtown and ducked into a coffee shop that seemed relatively new and therefore safe, in that nobody would recognize her. She hoped. She ordered a coffee and sat hunched in the corner, her heart throbbing. She needed a game plan for what came next. She took out her notepad and began brainstorming ideas for the Christmas commercials, envisioning various scenes. In reality, she didn’t have to go to Mackinac Island to write these commercials. She could take everything from her memories. She knew every corner of that island. She felt she knew every tree, every rock, every animal.
She wondered if the people from her past were still there.
She thought of her family—extended groups of Caraways, people connected to the Caraway Fudge Shoppe, her cousins. She thought of family barbecues in the summertime and Christmases spent at one of their houses. They’d gather around the Christmas tree, eating turkey and stuffing and pie and cookies.
Usually, when Willa was invited to a Christmas celebration, she would lie and say she had plans. She’d never told anyone why she didn’t want to go. An old boyfriend had begged her to come home with him, to meet his family and participate in their traditions. But the idea of seeing them all together, hugging and laughing, had hurt too much. She’d said no. The relationship hadn’t lasted much longer than that. He’d understood there were walls around Willa’s heart that couldn’t be broken.
When he’d dumped her, she’d said she understood. She hadn’t gone on another date for two more years, thinking,What’s the point?
