Page 20 of Summer on Lilac Island

Rebecca liked collecting Petoskey stones, the fossilized corals native to Northern Michigan. It was something she and her

mother did on Mackinac. Ever since Rebecca was little, they’d go down to Windermere Point or British Landing and sift through

the sand and water. Gigi never had the patience for it. She stomped shells with her bare feet instead, using the broken bits

to write her name in the sand. Large block letters so propeller planes dipping by might see her name, remember it.

Tom wasn’t fond of the activity either, preferring to nap on the beach or livestream a sports game. Rebecca had overcome her

fear of driving and started taking solo beach trips during the week while he was holed up at the office doing whatever it

was that financial advisors did. “Playing therapist to rich people,” was how he described it.

Petoskey stones were easier to find when wet. The distinctive “rising sun” pattern of rays popped on the surface. Today Rebecca

waded into Lake Michigan up to her shins. She reached down and scooped a handful of lake-floor debris, then filtered it through

her fingers.

As she searched, she called her mother, hoping she might reveal something about Clyde to her. Gigi’s updates were infuriatingly

sparse. Rebecca missed her place as Eloise’s first confidante. So much already seemed to be changing since her sister had

gotten back.

“I look like a madwoman talking to myself,” Eloise told Rebecca over the phone. She was hiss-whispering, the rasp sounding

like static. “Everyone in Doud’s is staring.”

Rebecca had gifted her mother wireless earbuds after Eloise had lamented that they wouldn’t be able to go on their walks anymore. She’d only just figured them out, likely because Gigi was there to manage the technology.

“They’re probably just staring because of your radiant beauty,” Rebecca said. Her eyes were on Sadie, who was off leash and

testing the water.

Lake Michigan bunched in turquoise clumps near the shoreline, then dispersed into deeper blue. Windblown dunes and scraggly

shrubs gave dimension to the landscape. The panoramic views reminded Rebecca enough of Mackinac that she couldn’t help but

compare. Her eyes searched for the bridge that wasn’t there.

Traverse City still didn’t feel like home. Their next-door neighbors hosted a barbecue last night and didn’t invite Rebecca

and Tom. Tom didn’t think it was a big deal, said they should just go over and join in. But Rebecca had haunted from their

window instead. The sting was still there today, not that she was going to tell her mother about it. Eloise would use it as

an opportunity to bring up why she and Tom should move to Mackinac, why it was a criminal act to live more than fifty miles

away.

“Or maybe they’re staring because they’ve heard you’re the island’s most sought-after bachelorette,” Rebecca carried on, getting

quite the thrill over using the word bachelorette to describe her mother. She’d thought of her as a divorcée for so long that this was an exciting change indeed.

“Don’t tease me, Rebecca,” Eloise said. “It’s one thing when your sister does it, but you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m always on your side.” Rebecca hoped her mother knew how true that was. She bent down to unearth a mussel shell lodged

in the sand. It wasn’t just the stones she liked. Shells were good too. She and Eloise would use a hot glue gun to merge shards

from multiple shells and then fashion them into necklaces, earrings, trinkets. A mosaic of brokenness made whole. “I just

think you’re also on Clyde’s side,” Rebecca said. “Even if you’re not letting yourself admit it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eloise said.

“You’re doing that thing where you mentally rattle off all the ways it could go wrong.” Rebecca caught up with Sadie, who

was digging a hole, sand spraying. “Believe me, I know the trick.”

This was perhaps the most daunting thing about becoming a parent. Rebecca felt reasonably equipped for the tasks of keeping

a little human alive, sacrificing her time and money. Harder to face was the prospect that the child might know her in ways

she didn’t know herself. These thoughts had been percolating since she’d been reading family planning books. She and Tom had

just started trying. It might take years, so better to get going. Rebecca had never been naturally good at things the way

Gigi had. Her success came from hard work and persistence.

“I appreciate your input,” Eloise said. “But I have enough to worry about with Georgiana going around playing these games

with the doctor. Did she tell you she’s suddenly interested in him? Or at least claiming to be?”

If she were face-to-face with her mother, Rebecca would have shared what Gigi told her about wanting to steal James from Lillian.

But through the phone came a level of distance, and Rebecca felt a sisterly devotion kick in. Besides, Rebecca wasn’t even

sure she bought Gigi’s shallow explanation.

“I thought you wanted her to date him,” was all Rebecca said to her mom.

She rinsed off more stones in the lake. The water washed over her feet, creeping up to her ankles. Even in summer, the Great

Lakes remained cold. Surfers swathed in wet suits paddled out into the low waves, trying to catch their patchy foam.

“Date him, yes. Pretend to date him to aggravate Lillian, no.” Eloise dropped her voice even lower. It was hardly audible. “Trina Tong is over in

the dairy aisle and won’t even look at me.”

“You and Mrs. Tong have never been close,” Rebecca reminded. “Doesn’t that trace back to how you didn’t invite her to your

euchre group when she moved here?”

“Euchre is a four-person game,” Eloise whispered. “Kitty had just joined; we were already full. It was nothing personal. I told her that.”

Rebecca suspected her new neighbors might say something similar about their barbecue last night.

“My point is that I’m walking on eggshells in my own town,” Eloise went on. “Though I daresay I should have seen it coming.

My own naivete for thinking Georgiana might have matured by age twenty-nine...”

Rebecca set a Petoskey stone in her tote bag. It rattled against the other fossils and shells. The clanking of nature’s coins.

She continued on, scanning the lake floor. “Gigi takes after Dad that way.”

It sounded worse out loud than it had in her head, and Rebecca regretted the comment. She was going to apologize for it but

then realized her mother hadn’t taken it as much of a dig. Eloise tended to see comparisons to Gus as net positive.

“Your father was married with two children by the time he was Georgiana’s age,” Eloise reminded her.

It wouldn’t be productive for Rebecca to point out that a mere five years later, he had all but tossed aside both titles.

Eloise’s rose-colored glasses could only be removed by Gus himself, cracked by the pressure of his own palms, his empty promises.

Whenever his Mackinac stopovers ended, Eloise spent weeks denouncing him—his fickleness, his lack of responsibility, his abysmal

communication. Never, she insisted, would she open her doors for him again.

“He’s not coming to the island this summer, is he?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Rebecca kept her voice casual, knowing how the topic would wind up her mother like a clock, a countdown with

no end.

“You know your father,” Eloise said, though it wasn’t really true.

Rebecca used to wish she knew him better.

She used to wish it so much, on every dandelion seed she blew across the island.

Nowadays she didn’t wish on anything. Not dandelions, not stars, not even birthday candles.

She focused on what she had, not what she lacked, and that was that.

Rebecca dropped the topic. “Just think of it this way. Gigi could be getting into trouble with drugs again or those violent

protests. Be glad she’s keeping things tame.”

“For now,” Eloise said. “I’ll need to train Pluto to be a marijuana-sniffing cat. Georgiana’s been complaining that we don’t

have a dispensary on the island. Said she might get a permit and open one herself. Spent all day researching it. The only

burst of work ethic I’ve seen applied toward becoming a drug dealer.”

Rebecca didn’t dare confess that she may have inadvertently planted the seed. “An abomination, as Deirdre says.”

“I miss you, Rebecca,” Eloise said. “You always keep things in balance. The family fulcrum.”

The words felt delicious to hear. Validation that Gigi wasn’t usurping Rebecca’s place.

“We’ll be up for the Fourth,” Rebecca said, brightening at the thought. “And don’t let Gigi steal all the main character energy

this summer. You deserve some too.”

“Supporting character fits me better. I’m a mother, after all.”

“But you’re not just a mother,” Rebecca said. It was something she had started thinking about a great deal for herself. How she could gain an

identity as a mother but not lose all those other identities: woman, daughter, wife, friend, sister.

“My world begins and ends with my girls,” Eloise said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ll understand someday.”

Rebecca didn’t dare mention that she hoped that day would come very soon. Eloise would obsess over it, then feel let down

each month that nothing happened. Rebecca was doing everything she could not to let it consume her. Her mind kept going to

all the potential things that could go wrong.

“I’m just saying, it’s good to look out for your own needs too,” Rebecca said.

“Now you’re sounding like your sister. You two are conspiring about Clyde, I know it.”

“Gigi is always conspiring. I’m just an innocent observer.”

“Sure you are,” Eloise said. “Hold on just a moment.”

Her voice came through muffled. There seemed to be some kind of squabble.

“I’m back,” Eloise said, coming in clearer again. “The fudgie working the checkout told me they raised the senior citizen

age from fifty-five to sixty. Tried to swindle me out of my savings.”

It was just like her mother to win a fight based on principle. The only time she initiated conflict was when someone overcharged

her or cheated in euchre.

“Congratulations,” Rebecca said. “You’re no longer a senior citizen.”

“I’m not ashamed of my age,” Eloise said. “I won’t be injecting my face with fillers and poison like some people around here.”

Mayor Welsh, Rebecca knew she meant, not daring to utter an insult in public. “But I’ll talk to Mr. Doud about the policy

change. It’s his son’s doing, no doubt. He’s been making some terrible changes. Only stocking organic produce now. Red peppers

are seventy-five cents more apiece. Not per pound, per pepper .”

“Organic is good, though,” Rebecca said. “Protects against cancer.”

Eloise harrumphed. “Of all the horrors in this world,” she said, “nuclear weapons, liberal politics, deranged gunmen...

pesticides are the least of my concerns.”

What Rebecca would give to see Gigi’s reaction to hearing liberal politics lumped in with that list of atrocities.

“The lilacs have finally popped, at least,” Eloise said. “I’m walking home now, and everything is bursting purple.”

Rebecca could picture the island draped in its majestic floral robes. She missed it terribly.

“Deirdre keeps going on about how line dancing at the Lilac Festival won’t be the same without you leading it,” Eloise carried on. “But you’ll be back soon enough, I suppose. Georgiana will sleep on the couch, of course, so you and Tom will get the loft. We can push the beds together.”

Rebecca twisted her feet deeper into the sand. “We actually booked the Main Street Inn,” she said. “Just so we’re not crowding

you and Gigi.”

Silence sprawled. “You’re not staying with me?” Eloise’s voice was high and tight.

Tom had been sure that Eloise would understand and see that this was a very reasonable thing. Rebecca should have trusted

her instincts, planned the delivery better. “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling tactless. “I just think Tom might be more comfortable

having our own space.”

“Tom can stay at the inn then,” Eloise said. “You’re my daughter, Rebecca. I’m not letting you stay in a hotel.”

“Mom.” Rebecca traced the diamond ring on her left hand. “Tom is my husband now.”

“Of course,” Eloise said after a moment. “I’m sorry.” She sounded so dejected, like her windpipe had a leak. Rebecca felt

awful, though she was proud of herself for standing up to her mother. She hadn’t had much practice at it until recently.

“I’ll still spend the whole weekend with you, obviously,” Rebecca said. “It’s really just for sleeping and showering. And

I’ll bring my Petoskey stones with me,” she hurried on. “I’ve found a lot of good ones. We can do some crafting.”

“How about we collect new ones when you’re here?” Eloise said. “Mackinac has a far better variety than Traverse City. Something

about the wind patterns.”

Rebecca didn’t ask for her citation. She just dunked another fossilized rock into the ocean-like lake, cleaning the sand,

the dirt, the gobs of duckweed until it shone like a gemstone. “I’d like that.”