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Chapter Eleven
Elise wrote all throughthe night. She was overcome with an energy she hadn’t experienced since her mid-twenties when she had been a mother of twin toddlers and a successful screenwriter in her own right. When the sun first glittered up on the horizon line, she gasped for air.
I’m almost done.
I can’t believe this.
For the first time in hours, Elise checked her phone to find that both Haley and Mia had texted her about Matt.
Apparently, he had arrived back for another meeting for their upcoming television show, and he’d produced a very dim outlook on Elise’s life out east.
HALEY: Girl, you have to open up. What happened to Matt? He barely wants to say your name.
MIA: Ellie! You’re driving me nuts, you know. Matt says that you’re turning into someone he doesn’t even know. An island girl through and through. I can’t say that it doesn’t suit you, but...
HALEY: Did you tell Matt you didn’t like him?
HALEY: If so, I mean, that’s a good thing, right? Just awkward timing. He came all that way...
Elise flared her nostrils, considered writing back, and then returned her phone to the desk. Every single part of her body ached with yearning. She needed to make peace with Wayne. She needed to tell him that she would never lead him on. When she’d first spotted him, something within her had jumped and screamed and told her,Listen up! We’re not dead yet.
In the screenplay, Elise had written up a gorgeous reunion between the two protagonists. Naturally, the man was a Wayne lookalike, the owner of the nearby coffee shop, while the woman was a woman on the hunt for something—something she couldn’t fully put her finger on just yet. Was it love? Was it family? Was it a new beginning?
In the screenplay, they came together beneath a cloudy sky and kissed beneath an umbrella. The male protagonist placed his hand gently across the woman’s cheek as she closed her eyes and gave in, her knees weak beneath her.
But you have to be brave enough to get what you want.
You can’t just write something into existence.
It was just past seven in the morning, which meant that Wayne and Michael were at the coffee shop already. Elise walked toward her closet, grabbed her green dress—her perfect island stand-by. She ran her fingers through her hair and perfected her makeup. When she headed out onto Main Street, not even Rhonda sat in the front room to see her go.
Elise could hardly stand the wait. Normally she enjoyed the walk: the fudge shops opening up, the carriage horses clopping by. She rushed toward The Grind, ripped open the door, and stumbled inside. Her hair was damp with mist.
Nobody stood at the counter. It reflected the soft lights above, and a radio spewed out hip-hop tracks from the kitchen.
“Hello?”
After another call, Michael popped out of the kitchen.
“Elise! Hey. Um...” Michael shuffled his hand through his hair and stepped toward the edge of the counter. “What’s up? How can I help you?”
Maybe it was too early; he seemed to have forgotten he was supposed to be mad at her.
“Hi, Michael. I’m sorry to ask this, but I was wondering... is Wayne here?”
“Actually, no.” Michael paused for a long time, and then said, “I don’t know if he wants me to say this, but he texted me last night that he plans to leave the island for a while.”
Elise’s heart sank. Her words were barely audible.
“Where is he going?”
Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. If there’s anything I know about traveling, it’s that it almost takes the magic away from it if you tell everyone your plans.”
Elise turned toward the floor to ceiling windows, which faced out toward the dock. She wondered if he had already caught the ferry out.
“Thank you, Michael,” she called. She bolted out of the coffee shop, hustled toward the ferry dock, and asked if Wayne had been through yet.
The dockhand furrowed his brow and said, “Naw. I haven’t seen Wayne around here. Check the coffee shop. He’s normally always around.”
