Page 90 of A Thousand Second Chances

I hesitate, and the other one chimes in, “Come on. I promise we don’t bite, and you don’t want to miss the best part!” He gestures at the lake, and I see at once what he means. They’re here at the perfect time, the sun just beginning to sink beneath the horizon in a flurry of fire.

I open my mouth to make an excuse, but what comes out instead is, “Yeah. All right.”

I join them on the bluff, keeping several feet between us and fidgeting awkwardly. Maybe they sense my discomfort because they don’t bother with small talk. They turn back to each other, standing arm in arm as they watch the brilliant sight. I do the same, and as the setting sun marks the end of another day—another Saturday in my endless procession of Saturdays—a kind of peace steals over me. It’s not comfort or contentedness, not really. More like a sense that I’m where I’m supposed to be. Of new possibilities opening up before me. Of untapped potential, waiting to be seized.

The question’s never been whether I have a choice, I think, my face bathed in a dying inferno.It’s if I have the courage to make the one I want to.

“Do you live on the island?” one of the guys asks me as darkness descends.

I shake my head. “Just visiting. But my family spent a lot of time here when I was growing up.”

“Oh, yeah? We’re here through Monday. Anything we should make sure to check out before we go?” He gives a mock shudder. “I mean, assuming we survive the ceremony tomorrow unscathed.”

The other guy makes an affronted sound and punches him playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, it won’t bethatbad.”

The first guy gives him a flat look. “Your family and my family will be mingling for hours. With booze.”

The second guy winces. “Okay, yeah, maybe it’s apt to label it a warzone.”

The first guy smiles, his sharp face softening as he takes the second guy’s hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure our groomsmen run interference. If there are any flying projectiles, I expect them to take the bullet for us.”

The second guy snorts and shakes his head. He kisses the first guy on the brow. “Of course, you do.”

They gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, and I have to look away. It’s too much, especially with memories of Chris still so close at hand. I clear my throat, searching for something to say. “Make sure to try some fresh fudge,” I offer, answering their earlier question. “It’s like a sin to come to Mackinac Island and not eat some. And if you have a chance, take a bike ride around the island perimeter.”

The first guy nods. “Anything else?”

“Honestly, it’s all great. Just make sure you give yourselves enough time to take it all in. Things tend to move slower here.”

The first guy snorts. “Right. Well, that’s what happens when you replace cars with horses.”

The other guy elbows him and shakes his head fondly before turning to me and holding out his cell phone with a hopeful expression. “Can you take our picture? Before it gets too dark.”

The sun’s already mostly sunk beneath the horizon, only its final faint gasp visible, but I shrug. “No problem.”

I take his phone and line up the shot. Again, I’m struck by how perfect the two of them seem together. It’s clear they’re in love—even if they weren’t standing wrapped in each other’s arms, I’d be able to tell by the way they can’t keep their eyes off one another.

Does Chris look at me like that? What about when I look at him?

Tough questions whose answers I’m not ready to examine too closely. I don’t know which would be worse: if we’d never had what these two have or if I simply hadn’t been willing to accept it until it was too late.

I snap the picture of the two grinning lovebirds and pass the phone back to them before making my escape. If I spend another minute in their presence, I’m worried I might do something drastic like scream or weep, and either would probably put a damper on their night.

“Make the most of your time here!” the first guy calls after me as I descend. “Life’s too short for anything else.”

He’s right. Even when you’ve got all the time in the world, somehow, it never seems like enough.

I make the return trip to the Royal Lilac more quickly, hoping to get back before the light completely fades. Ahead, I spy a figure standing off the road on the shore, gazing toward Sunset Rock. Shadows dance across them, and it takes me a moment to recognize Owen, his tall, lanky frame hunched over. For once, his face isn’t contorted with anger, but at this distance and with the dim light, I can’t parse what emotion he wears. Had he been watching that couple as well?

I start toward him, but as soon as Owen notices me, his face shutters into a scowl.I promised Carol, I remind myself as I force a grin. “Hey, Owen. What are you doing out here?”

“None of your business,” he snaps.

Resolved not to give up so easily this time, I say, “Whatever’s going on with you, youcantalk to me, you know. I might not have been the best friend these past couple of years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. If you’re dealing with something, maybe I can help.”

For a moment, I think I might have actually gotten through to him. His expression loses some of its heat, leaving him looking lost.

“Owen…” I reach for him, resting a hand on his arm.