Page 15 of Summer on Lilac Island

When nine o’clock came around, Gigi was pleased there was not yet any sign of Eloise. It must mean the date was going well.

But as night skulked later and the sun finally set after ten, flickers of unease appeared. Gigi really didn’t know Clyde.

It now seemed hasty to have forced them together so quickly.

Everything all right? she texted Eloise, then gave her a call. There was no reply. Eloise likely had her phone off. Cell phones, in her view, were

“brain cell assassins.”

Rebecca was texting for updates too. Not wanting to worry her, Gigi told her all was well. Her sister had the type of personality

where she assumed someone had gone into a coma if they didn’t reply within thirty minutes. Nonni would be the best person

to talk to, but she’d gone to bed once she’d finished the crossword. Gigi had helped, googling the answers on her phone, then

presenting them as if they’d appeared from her own genius. “Eloise either likes him or she’s too polite to extricate herself,”

had been Nonni’s assessment. “Most likely the latter.”

Gigi perused the notepad next to the bulky landline. Eloise had written down everything from bank passwords to friends’ birthdays

to Rebecca’s and Gigi’s addresses (each of Gigi’s now-defunct addresses crossed out firmly, as if Eloise had struck her pen

multiple times to express frustration at yet another move). Locating Deirdre’s number, Gigi gave her a call.

“Paula and Kitty saw them at dinner, said they were getting on quite well,” Deirdre told her. “I wouldn’t worry about that, dear.”

Gigi was only mildly reassured. It wasn’t like Eloise to stay out so late. She was always in bed by nine thirty sharp. “What

should I worry about then?”

“I saw Dr. Kentwood this afternoon,” Deirdre said. “I’ve been having a bad spell of migraines, and I can’t go to my husband

about that sort of thing. He doesn’t give me the same attention as his other patients, tells me I’m overreacting. Anyway,

I told Dr. Kentwood that it looked like you two hit it off. And oh, I’m sorry to say it, but he has some reservations. Said

you have a severe personality, I’m afraid.”

The words burned. Gigi had pegged James as a lot of things, but a gossipmonger wasn’t one of them.

“I hate to be the one to break the news to you, dear,” Deirdre prattled on. “But I thought it was kinder you heard it from

me directly.”

“The doctor was probably just smarting that I rebuffed his good-night kiss,” Gigi said. James hadn’t tried anything when he’d

walked her to the door, but Deirdre didn’t need to know that.

Deirdre latched onto this twist. “I did think there must be more to the story, given how enraptured you both looked riding to dinner.”

Gigi reverted to the topic of Eloise’s whereabouts.

“Not to worry, dear,” Deirdre assured. “I’ll initiate the phone tree and see if anyone’s spotted her.”

Gigi thanked her, then headed outside. The first stars were beginning to drop into the sky like clusters of quartz. The stars

were so vibrant on the island, free from light pollution. She allowed herself one glance before locating her retro penny-farthing

in the shed. The tires were flat. She had no patience to inflate them so she opted for her old Razor scooter. Well worn, the

wheels were more square than circular now, making for a bumpy ride. She pushed along, headlamp lighting the way. After several

minutes of hearing only the static of crickets and tree frogs, a pattering of feet approached.

“Mom?” Gigi was aware of the quiver in her voice and how she dropped the formality of Mother.

But it was not Eloise. It was James, out for an evening jog. An evening sprint, more like it. His athletic shirt and shorts

were drenched in sweat and his face shone. The look was far more casual than his one last night. It suited him better. Gigi’s

first thought was that she had missed him. Her second thought was that that made no sense. Her third was that she detested

him.

She braked on her scooter, screeching to a halt. “What’re you doing here?”

“Just getting in a bit of cardio.” James stopped too. He wasn’t even out of breath. “Everything okay?”

“I think something might’ve happened to Eloise,” Gigi said. “And it’s my fault.”

“How is it your fault?”

If James was going to bad-mouth Gigi, she was going to clap back. “Because I told her I’d only go out with you if she let

me set her up on a date too,” she said. “And now she’s on the date and hasn’t returned.”

James digested the information. “That makes me feel better.”

“Why would that make you feel better? I was using you.”

“That much was clear. But you did it to help your mother find love. Very altruistic of you, really.” His face was impossible

to read. Gigi had the sense he was teasing her.

“It wasn’t altruistic.” She was aggravated that he was pinning such praise on her, however sardonically.

A cry spilled out from farther down the path. Gigi recognized it as Eloise’s.

Leaving her scooter, she tore toward the sound.

The cry came again, only this time Gigi realized it was a laugh. Eloise was ambling up the path, arm looped through Clyde’s.

“Georgiana!” Eloise called out. “What’re you doing out?” Spotting James a little ways back, she cast a knowing look. “Well,

well, if this hasn’t just turned into a double date.”

“It’s not a double date,” Gigi snapped as she breathed a massive sigh of relief. “It’s a search party. It’s late and I hadn’t heard from you. Honestly, Mother, you could have been dead, for all I knew.”

Eloise was obviously pleased with the fuss. “Looks like my daughter does care about me after all.” She mussed Gigi’s shaggy

hair, even planting a kiss on top.

“You should’ve checked your texts,” Gigi said, never so glad to be embarrassed. “It was highly irresponsible of you.”

“It’s all my fault, I’m afraid,” Clyde jumped in. He was dressed like a Mary Poppins character and seemed even bouncier than

when Gigi had met him on the ferry. “I was boring your mam with a few too many stories.”

“Not boring me in the least,” Eloise said. “Clyde is a fascinating addition to the island. It’s fortunate you’ve connected

us, Georgiana.”

“Most fortunate.” Clyde tipped his fedora at Gigi. “Though I do think I would’ve found you anyway, my bonny Eloise.” His eyes

lingered on Eloise’s. They both blushed in the stark light of Gigi’s headlamp.

Gigi didn’t like how quickly this was all moving. She had hoped Eloise would realize dating wasn’t so bad, not drool all over

the man. “I’ll take it from here.” She stepped in to take Eloise off Clyde’s arm.

“Nonsense,” Eloise said. “Clyde will show me home.” And she continued up the path with him.

Gigi watched in disbelief. Middle-aged mothers weren’t supposed to star in summer romances; their twentysomething daughters

were. Something had been switched in the cosmos, the signals crossed, and Gigi didn’t like it.

“Is she demonstrating symptoms of a concussion?” Gigi asked James as she doubled back to him and her scooter. “Or maybe something

was in her drink...”

“Not everyone needs to have a brain injury or be drugged to enjoy their dates,” James said.

“Only those of us with severe personalities, I suppose,” Gigi quipped.

She expected him to deny it. He didn’t.

“I believe I used the word angular ,” he said.

“So much better. Thanks for clarifying.” She glared at him. His eyes looked nearly green tonight. She wanted to keep staring

but looked down at her shoes instead. The laces were coming loose.

“I’m sorry,” James said. “Deirdre’s questions caught me off guard; she just kept going. But it’s no excuse.”

“No, it’s not. Especially when I’d recounted to Eloise how well you and I had hit it off.”

“Gigi.” His voice was soft in texture, firm in meaning. “Our date was a little strange, and you know it.”

She felt it as the rejection that it was. She wished she could start over, never even go out with him in the first place.

“How dare you say such a thing?” She stepped into the outrageous character she’d played when she’d first met him, before she’d

been foolish enough to let the act drop. “I, for one, was up all night updating my Pinterest wedding board and writing ‘Mrs.

Dr. Kentwood’ in my journal in my finest cursive, quill and all. And now all my grand hopes... they’re shattered at my

feet.” She let out a wounded sniff. “How will I ever recover?”

“Your acting talent is top-notch,” James said. “Surprised you didn’t go the Hollywood route.”

“I’m far too original for the commercialism of the entertainment industry.” In truth, Gigi had put together a reel from an

acting class she’d dropped into a few times, but she hadn’t liked it enough to send it out to agents. It wasn’t her acting

that was the problem. It was the editing of the clips, the shoddy work of a grad student who’d done it for free. “Now, if

you’ll excuse me,” she said to James. “My severe personality and I must get home.”

With a forceful kick of her foot, she started off on her scooter to follow Eloise and Clyde. She found herself oddly winded

before even reaching the hill.