Anne of a different island.
Home at last.
32
Anne
June 2025
The June sun slanted throughthe windows, flooding the basketball court with golden light and illuminating the massive blue-and-white bouquets on the corners of the stage. The scent of lilies and delphiniums rose delicately against the gym smell of floor polish and exercise mats, the echoing memory of volleyball tournaments and basketball games.
Everyone in town who didn’t have somewhere else to be on a Friday night was there. I spotted Daanis in the bleachers, nearly three-year-old Namid on her lap, kindergartner Rose still clutching the posy of ferns that had formed part of the triumphal arch for the entering high school graduates. Beverly Powell and Zoe, back from their recent trip to Tahiti, sat side by side under the painted logo of the Mackinac Island Lakers. In the doorway, Mercy stood with Bruno Petrovksi, pagers clipped to their belts.
My throat constricted at the memory of my dad, in a flannel shirt and his old work boots, beaming with pride as I’d crossed this same stage nine years ago.
But there, beside Nicole Miller in the second row, sat mymother. She’d closed the shop early today to be here to hear me speak.
And next to them was Joe, his long body jackknifed into a folding chair, a ghost of a smile in his deep brown eyes.
I love you, that look said, and my fluttering heart took flight.
I stepped up to the podium. “I’m really honored that you asked me to speak at today’s graduation,” I said to the eight students seated in front. “I’ve only been your teacher—your full-time teacher—for two years. But I’ve sat where you are sitting now. So I can tell you that the things you want the most you already have: your family and friends, sitting behind and beside you, and your dreams.
“Some of you have lived your whole lives on the island.” I smiled at Hailey in her blue cap and gown, the blue streaks in her hair matching mine.
“Some of you only came here a few years ago.” I looked at Ethan, whose family had moved here from Montana. Who never opened a book that wasn’t assigned reading until I gave himRed Sky at Morning.
“Some of you are headed off to school and some are starting jobs and some are getting worried because the right school, the right job, hasn’t presented itself yet. Your parents are worried, too.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the gym, like the breeze over the lake.
“So come home sometimes. Show up for them, and let them show up for you.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m here to tell you, don’t be afraid. You all have a long road ahead. None of us really knows what’s out there, what the world or the future holds, and that’s scary. But every one of you is special. Betrue to yourself. Hold on to the people who are sitting with you, the people who love you.”
My gaze found Joe, my heart so full I could hardly speak.
“And hold on to your dreams. They’re like stars, helping you to navigate your way. You can’t always see the path ahead, but you can make the whole journey by their light.”
I smiled blindly out at my students, their faces blurring together through my tears. “Dance to meet life, to embrace the unexpected. And congratulations on taking your next steps.”
There was applause, of course. These were parents, friends, and family, gathered to celebrate all our kids. They were here to be pleased. I stumbled my way off the stage and took my seat in the audience beside Joe.
He took my hand in his strong, rough, carpenter’s hand. “Nice speech.”
The tears rolled. “Thanks.”
“Your dad would be proud of you.”
I was proud of myself, of us, of how far we had come, of all the steps we had taken together to get here.
I loved being back on the island, the brilliant Octobers, the lilacs in spring, the clip-clop of horses. I loved the rhythm of our life here, the summers when the tourists swarmed and the winters when the town turned out for hockey games on the frozen Main Street.
I loved my school family, the strong bonds with and between my students, the friendships I had formed with the other teachers (even Mrs.Mosley).
I loved living close to Daanis, watching Rose and Namid grow, taking them to the playground, meeting her and Zack at the Mustang for trivia night.
On weekends and in the summer, we sometimes traveleddown to Chicago, where Joe had a workspace in a corner of Kelsey’s warehouse. We hadn’t been to Paris yet or Tahiti. But last July, we visited Colorado, where he met Mei-Ling and Daniel, and we went hiking in the Rocky Mountains. And in two weeks, we were flying to New York City, where I would meet my editor for the first time.
It was the culmination of a dream. I’d spent hours online, planning our trip. I’d bought tickets to see a show. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, to walk in Central Park and along the High Line, to have breakfast at Tiffany’s and wander through the art museum and the New York Public Library.
