Page 24 of Summer on Lilac Island

Gigi bicycled over to the cornhole tournament.

She wore a helmet but didn’t strap it. Eloise wasn’t able to yell at her for riding without one, yet her chin wasn’t pinched

by the strap. Loopholes like these were Gigi’s sweet spot.

The lilac bushes were in the surge of bloom. Petals padding the streets, the island’s rendering of a royal carpet. Gigi enjoyed

the skid as she approached Main Street.

It was flooded with fudgies. An onslaught of buggies dashing this way and that. Police officers patrolling on horseback, as

if anything worse than shoplifting or bicycle theft ever happened here.

Gigi was not thinking about James as she pedaled. Or rather, she was thinking about how she was not thinking about him.

She had enjoyed herself at lunch with James, more than she’d intended to. There was definitely something between them. Not

in-your-face fireworks but little tugs of temptation. The kind of thing made sexier by how understated it was. James had felt

it too; she knew he had.

But Gigi had yet to hear from him.

Lillian probably got upset and forced a label on their relationship, told him not to talk to Gigi. It was all so childish.

Gigi felt that old craving to swipe through hundreds of dating app profiles to distract her. If only Mackinac had such high-quantity,

low-quality men as LA did.

She tried not to let James put her in a bad mood. She tried instead to focus on the riveting new development that it wasn’t just her mother who had a suitor. Her grandmother seemed to as well. It was a plot twist Gigi hadn’t seen coming, though Eloise was clearly in denial.

Caught up in her thoughts, she nearly took out a cluster of oblivious pedestrians.

“Someone’s on a mission,” one of the officers called out, catching up to Gigi on his horse.

Gigi glanced over. The officer was attractive in an unruly sort of way. Tousled blond hair gave the impression of sleeping

through five alarm clocks after a night of tequila shots. Gigi knew the look well.

Gigi slowed her pace. “If I don’t bring back the gold in the cornhole tournament, my mother will deem me a blot on the family

name,” she said. “As if she hasn’t already.”

The officer’s caramel eyes flickered, amused. “Would your mom be Eloise?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You look alike,” he said. “And I heard her daughter was back in town.”

“Here I am. The notorious rebel.”

“I think I’ve got you beat there,” he said. “Got driven out of my own hometown; that’s why I’m here.”

Gigi couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. She liked that quality. “Well, do yourself a favor and try to get kicked off the

island too,” she said. “There’s nothing to do here.”

“Nothing?” His eyes glimmered like he was enjoying an inside joke. “Cruiser and me get up to some fun, don’t we, boy?” He

patted his horse, a handsome chestnut Clydesdale.

Cruiser was a good name for a police horse, Gigi decided. It might not have the elegance of Willow but brought more levity.

“I should give you a speeding ticket,” the officer said. “But I’ll let you off with a warning this time.”

“Very generous of you,” Gigi said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a trophy to win.”

Gigi accelerated again, whizzing down Main Street with the authority of Moses parting the Red Sea.

“I’m Ronny,” the officer called out after her. “Thanks for asking.”

Gigi felt a smile sneak onto her face. She dismounted at Windermere Point, the pebbly stretch of beach where the cornhole

competition was taking place. The Doghouse Food Shack—Mackinac’s go-to spot for hot dogs and root beer floats—was located

on the point, with picnic tables for seating. In the distance, the Round Island Point Lighthouse was visible in the Straits,

adding a dash of barn red to the blue horizon.

Clyde appeared at Gigi’s shoulder. He was wielding a professional camera, snapping photos of contestants warming up, tossing

bean bags at boards. “What a fascinating sport.”

“Please don’t call it a sport,” Gigi said. “It’s a redneck lawn game. But we’ve got to win.” She wanted something to brag

to Ronny about next time she saw him. Not to mention that she’d found out James and Lillian were competing as a team.

“Can I ask you something before we start?” Clyde said. “It’s about your mother. I’m sure you know she told me she just wants

to be friends.” He fiddled with the camera. “Do you think I might change her mind?”

Gigi doubted Clyde would be able to make it very far with Eloise. She was so set in her ways. The way she answered the questions

about Nonni showed that Eloise saw romance as a young person’s affliction. But he was a kind, unconventional man, and Gigi

felt a genuine desire to help him.

“You’re not going to change her mind,” she said. Clyde’s face crinkled in resignation. “But,” Gigi went on, “maybe you can

change her heart.”

“Change her heart, not her head,” Clyde repeated. “Yes, that’s it. That’s just what I’ll have to do!”

The pep was back in Clyde’s step and beginner’s luck was on his side. He sank four bean bags, advancing them to the second round. They secured that game and the following against Camille and her boyfriend.

“It wouldn’t be right for the mayor to steal the show,” Camille said as she grudgingly conceded her loss.

“Yeah, having a mayor who actually led would be quite unseemly,” Gigi muttered.

Camille didn’t seem to hear, but James did. He cracked a smile and Gigi felt that confusion again—he did seem to have a decent sense of humor; he just kept it buried. She wanted to know him better but now felt she’d lost the chance

to Lillian.

Soon they were in the finals against James and Lillian, who were dressed in color-coordinated Wimbledon whites and were definitely

giving couple vibes. Gigi felt a sweaty flashback to senior prom, seeing Lillian and Benjamin slow dancing together. Except

this time felt much worse, with actual adult feelings involved.

Gigi and James lined up next to each other across from their partners. “Hope you enjoyed your winning streak,” she said.

“We are enjoying it, yes,” James said. “Though I’ve got to say, you’re pretty solid,” he added as Gigi looped another bean

bag through the hole.

“It’s all about my follow-through,” Gigi said. “When I start something, I finish it. I don’t leave the other person hanging.”

James shot her a sheepish look.

“Your girlfriend is carrying your team,” Gigi said. Lillian had sunk two bean bags through the hole in the time it took for

James to land one on the board.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He kept his voice low.

Gigi was pleased to hear that things might not be moving at the lightning speed that the euchre ladies were predicting.

“Just a piece of helpful advice then,” Gigi told him. “Don’t step foot anywhere near Dali’s Jewelry or the islanders will

start congratulating you on your engagement.”

“This whole thing is getting ridiculous,” James said, more impatiently now. “Half the patients who show up at the clinic have no ailments whatsoever. They’re just trying to pitch their nieces or granddaughters at me, like they think this is The Bachelor or something.”

Gigi cringed thinking about how Eloise had been one of these women persuading James to take out her daughter.

“The joys of small-town life,” Gigi said. “Although,” she went on, trying to get under his skin, “you could always pay me

to be your fake girlfriend. So people stop trying to set you up.”

“I’m not going to pay you to be my girlfriend,” James said. “That would just raise another set of issues.”

Gigi felt out of sorts. Picking up a bean bag, she arced it into the hole, giving her and Clyde the winning twenty-one points

to secure the championship. She faced James, enjoying the range of emotions tiled across his face. “Your loss then,” she said.