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“You know you can always come back,” Elise said, grinning broader. “This island will always be here. And if you come back with this new sense of what you want to be and what you want to write about? All the better.”
Megan considered this as she bit her bottom lip, then took a little sip of her glass of wine. “I’ll have to think about it. For now, writing silly poems as I sit at the window over the fudge shop works for me.”
Elise chuckled. “That sounds really romantic. I would love to read one sometime.”
It wasn’t until just after nine-thirty that Michael arrived back. The moment Elise saw him, her heart pounded hard against her ribcage. He gave her a sinister look, one that reminded Elise of the other night at the Pink Pony.
What does he think of me now? What has Wayne told him?
“Hey, Mama,” Michael said. He bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek, then patted his sister on the head. “What are you guys up to?”
“Just chatting,” Tracey said. “You can join us if you want.”
Michael considered this. “Okay. For just one glass.” He disappeared back into the house to fetch one.
Elise took this as her only chance.
She stood slowly, excused herself to the bathroom, and then found Michael with his hand in the cabinet, hunting for a clean glass. He didn’t turn his head to look at her. The silence in the kitchen was deafening.
“Michael, can I ask you something?” Elise hated how wavering her voice was.
“Of course, Aunt Elise. Ask me anything.”
“Is Wayne all right?”
Michael brought a glittering glass from the cabinet and closed the door of it slowly.
“I can only really say one thing about the subject, I guess. And that’s this. Wayne has been through a hell of a lot. The fact that you led him on while he was trying to open up for the first time? It’s pretty low.”
Elise stuttered. “That’s not—that’s not at all what—” Her thoughts spun so quickly, she couldn’t catch them. “I need to explain.”
“I guess you do,” Michael replied. “Although I imagine it’s probably too late.”
Michael turned back toward the porch and disappeared into the darkness, lit only with the softest glow from the outdoor lamp. His family greeted him with excitement. The sound seemed strange and foreign to Elise, who crossed her arms over her chest and lived in the sadness of this moment.
I imagine it’s probably too late.
