Fireflies in the Field

by Elizabeth Bromke

  “Yes,” Judith asserted, her voice still oddly loud. “I’m sorry, Megan. And, Amelia, is it? I’ve been a little… protective. Of what, I’m not sure.” She cackled. Oh, yes. Amelia knew a cackle when she heard it, and that woman was cackling.

  “Judith,” Gene said from behind, his voice a warning.

  Judith shrank, but only just. “I’m sorry for holding your interests hostage, ladies. Truly. I want Birch Harbor to be the best it can be. Really, I do.”

  “Why?” Megan asked.

  Judith blinked rapidly. Amelia bit her lower lip and winced.

  “Why?” Judith echoed.

  “Yes, why? You’re an islander, right?”

  “That’s right,” Judith answered, less assured now.

  “What draws you here? What are you looking for?” Megan asked. “Why does our town matter to you so much?”

  “Megan,” Amelia hissed, grabbing her sister’s elbow.

  “No,” Megan replied. “I don’t mean it to be rude. But it’s a fair question. If we are going to share Birch Harbor, then we should know about each other. And I’d like to know why, if you two live out of town and just spend the summer here… in your houseboat… why are you so much a part of this place?”

  Gene cleared his throat and took a step forward, but Judith held her hand up, stopping him. She looked Megan up and down and licked her lips then answered, “My family settled Birch Harbor, too,” she said at last. “My ancestors fought for this very parcel of land. They wanted to build the harbor right here. Where we stand.”

  Amelia blinked. “You grew up here?”

  “No,” Judith answered, her voice even. “I grew up on the Island. My grandparents were sort of castaways after all of the settlement issues from their parents. I always felt badly about that, you know? That they lost. And, well…” She looked as if she had more to say. Buckets more. But she stopped and smiled sadly. Then, she passed her plastic flute to Gene and reached each of her hands out to Megan and Amelia.

  They glanced at each other briefly, then accepted the woman’s chilly, bony grip. “I’m happy you girls found your way back here. Really, I am. I’m happy for all of you. I’m glad Gene, here, stepped in. I’m glad he knocked some sense into me.”

  And then, she squeezed their hands, released them, and went to Gene. He smiled at his wife, and everything felt finalized. Solved. Good and happy and sweet.

  Judith and Gene started to walk off, north toward the harbor where their houseboat sat waiting. The little piece of something they owned. Maybe they’d go back to their second home on Heirloom. Maybe to their inland home down south or up north or wherever they lived.

  Megan leaned into Amelia, and Amelia wrapped her sister in a hug.

  But just as Judith and Gene crossed the invisible border between the Hannigan’s private beach and the marina, Gene twisted around and looked at them.

  Even though they made their truce with Judith, even though Megan and Amelia had her blessing… Amelia knew there was still something more. Something left.

  She knew, for some reason, it had nothing to do with Nora.

  And everything to do with Wendell.

  33

  Megan

  The Inn-Warming party lasted well into Friday night, but come Saturday morning, Megan was up and at ’em, grabbing a quick bagel with Brian before they headed straight to the field to finalize the set-up.

  The day was a hot one, with little cloud coverage. Thick humidity hung around them as everyone—Megan’s sisters and their menfolk and even Sarah and a few of her girlfriends—worked together to get chairs positioned with their pretty fabric seat covers. They strung up lights and set long plastic folding tables with summery fabrics and accoutrements.

  Amelia had been late to pitch in, showing up with Michael at last and murmuring something about a lead on the Wendell case.

  But Megan didn’t want to hear about it and squashed the conversation immediately. “He left. That’s that. Save your investigation for any other day, please, Am,” she begged her sister privately. “It’s not about me. Or you. It’s not about Dad. I just want this day to be about us. Our hard work together, and all the good things we’re making happen here, okay?”

  Though Amelia didn’t apologize, she agreed, accepting that there was a time and place to continue the hunt and that Megan’s very first Fireflies event was neither the time nor the place.

  The food and drinks arrived just an hour before the mixer was set to begin. Megan agreed to let Clara oversee the buffet set-up so that she and Brian and the others could scurry home to get ready.

  The plan was for the men to hang around on the edges. Kate had wondered if they’d be a distraction or appear single and therefore mislead the eligible bachelorettes, but Megan’s research suggested otherwise. For the very first event, it needed to look well-attended. And with only twelve RSVPs, Megan didn’t care if they put Brian and Matt out there to mingle and play along.

  Still, it was a point of contention, so the agreement was for the sisters’ dates to stay on the periphery, pitch in with anything and be warm bodies and helpful hands.

  Amelia would be the official Mistress of Ceremonies, which was perfect. Kate wanted to man the food and drinks tables. Megan, for her part, was the Head Matchmaker in Charge. Megan and Sarah would run the registration table. After that, Megan planned to give a quick introduction to kick things off ahead of Amelia’s welcome speech.

  Sarah had her own event that night, an actual back-to-school bonfire, hosted by the school. Clara wasn’t required to attend the bonfire, but indeed it was a point of conflict for her. Being the new teacher at the high school, she could make a first impression among some of her students and new colleagues. And usually, she’d have liked the chance to have a social event through her work.

  But Megan knew Clara, and she knew that it was a lot to ask her to attend two big parties in one night, which was why she told Clara that, after the food and drinks were ready and Megan had returned, if she wanted to skip the Fireflies mixer, that was okay.

  So, when Megan and Brian returned to the field, just fifteen minutes before kick-off, she was surprised to hear Clara say she’d be back soon.

  “You are coming?” Megan asked her little sister, pinning her elegantly printed name tag onto her chiffon top.

  When it had come time for Megan to plan an outfit for the evening, Amelia urged her to go with a pink sundress—something that said romance. Something pretty and light. But Megan had already had something in mind. A bright red blouse—Kate’s on loan—and sleek black skinny jeans. On her feet, yellow-strapped wedges. Coincidentally, Brian had selected a similar ensemble: red button-down shirt and khaki slacks. Tan loafers. Together, they looked every bit the part of a business team whose company had something or other to do with fireflies.

  “Yes,” Clara answered. “I’ll just run home to get changed and be back, a little late maybe, but I’ll be here.”

  Megan couldn’t help herself. “No school bonfire? You’re choosing us for once?”

  Clara, to her credit, didn’t pale at the implication. Or pout. She simply smiled and replied, “Yes. That’s exactly right.”

  Just as Clara took off toward her car in the recently cleared lot they’d designated for parking, a stream of three unfamiliar vehicles rolled up the gravel lane.

  Megan sucked in a breath and turned to find Brian.

  It was time.

  Kate, Amelia, Michael, and Matt were in position. Sarah and her friends were stalking the food table, and a few local acquaintances who Megan had reached out to were already there, sitting at tables and helping make the space look like it was filling fast.

  They’d kept the chairs and tables sparse to begin with, so that when the first real guests gingerly made their way across the gravel drive and to the registration table, it appeared that the party was already in motion. Trucked-in planters with shaggy ferns and full-bodied pines in addition to heavy bouquets at the center and corners of each table, including the regi
stration table, had been a worth-while investment. Since they’d positioned the event space centrally in the field, they needed to ensure it looked… impressive.

  And it did.

  Jaunty summer tunes throbbed from the DJ’s speakers. The sun was dipping low enough that the summer heat had burned off enough to stave away discomfort.

  “Hi!” Megan greeted, gesturing the incoming trio of women toward her table. “Welcome to Fireflies in the Field! I’m Megan, and this is my husband Brian.”

  The women introduced themselves and secured their nametags. Just as Megan nudged them towards the refreshments and was about to take a deep breath, sink into her chair at the table and send up a prayer that others would show, Brian tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Megs, look.”

  He pointed toward Harbor Ave.

  There was no such thing as rush hour traffic in Birch Harbor, Michigan. On the weekends, though, there would often be a steady stream of vehicles cresting the hill from the northwest en route to the lake.

  Never, however… never in her life had Megan seen a full-blown traffic jam on that stretch of roadway.

  “Are they—” she frowned, and the words fell away as Brian nodded his head.

  A line of cars had built up at the entrance to the field, each waiting for a break in the oncoming traffic in order to turn in. Toward her event.

  “Oh my goodness,” Megan gasped.

  Within half an hour, Megan and Brian—Sarah had long left to get ready for her own event—had registered over twenty-five people, crushing Megan’s goal and pushing their resources to the very limit.

  Once it seemed safe to say that they could get things started, Kate declared she’d be on standby to bring over more food.

  Megan was glowing with the results. Some of the faces were even familiar. One of the town council members—the goofy man who couldn’t quite keep up with the likes of Judith—was there. So, too, was an old high school friend of Amelia’s.

  Two people that Megan recalled from Nora’s country club clique bee-lined for the beverage table.

  A handsome man who she could have sworn she’d either met or seen at the marina stood awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor, his hands in his pockets.

  A gaggle of unfamiliar faces, tourists maybe, looking for a weekend date or a lifetime love—who was to say? The point was, they were giving Megan a chance. They were giving each other a chance.

  A few of the guests had even attended the Inn-Warming the night before, which solidified the fact that Megan and Kate’s paired marketing strategy could work.

  “Okay,” Megan whispered to Amelia as they stood at the edge of the food table. “People are chatting naturally, so I think we need to monitor the rhythm here. I’ll do a super quick intro, then you can give the welcome address. Keep it under a minute. I think we save the activities for lulls.”

  “What about my directions?” Amelia asked. Megan had given her sister a set of directions to read that included an overview of a few party game activities. They planned on a rotation of sorts, but it was feeling unnecessary.

  “This thing already has a heartbeat. Let’s keep it to an outline.” She grabbed Amelia’s notecards and thumbed through, pointing along at each. “So, tell them that we’ll open the evening with drinks and appetizers. Then they can mingle while we bob around and do a little digging—that can take the place of the formal interviews. You can mention that one of the hostesses might come by with some questions. After an hour or so, we’ll start the party games, then we’ll end the night with desserts and dancing.”

  “Should I mention that the questions are for our matchmaking profile?” Amelia asked.

  Megan shook her head. “Keep it vague. The goal is to make this comfortable. Not awkward. People shouldn’t feel like they are being set up. We’ll only formalize the interviews if there’s a dip in the momentum.”

  Amelia leaned away and gave Megan a look, but she brushed it off. She knew what she was doing. She’d trained her whole life for this (insomuch as she could)—watching her reality shows, playing matchmaker among her own friend circles wherever possible. And of course, Megan was a living success story. Proof that it was always better to let chemistry seep in rather than force it. Besides, there in the grass, beneath the glow of the soft string lights and against the steady beat of her personally curated Summer Lovin’ soundtrack, love was officially in the air.

  “What about the rules? Do I go over them? Do I talk about exchanging phone numbers?” Amelia asked again, and Megan studied her briefly.

  “Are you nervous?” she asked.

  Amelia shook her head. “No, no. Not nervous, but… I’ve never had, like, a main gig.”

  “A main gig?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia replied. “I’m going to be in the spotlight. Like, all eyes on me during a monologue. It’s my moment.”

  Megan laughed and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Just be you. Leave the rules to me. You’ve never been a rule-follower, anyway.”

  Amelia smiled and laughed, nodding her head and throwing her shoulders back. “Okay, I’ve got this.”

  “Just remember,” Megan added, “our goal is to make everyone feel like this is a safe spot to fall in love. And the only way they’ll feel like that is if they like us.”

  “Don’t they have to like each other, too?” Brian asked, slipping in between the two women and wrapping his arm around Megan’s waist.

  “Yeah,” she admitted, “I suppose it will help if we make sure Mr. Town Council doesn’t linger too long at the twenty-somethings’ table.” She lifted her wine glass toward the poor sitting ducks and laughed again. “Amelia, let’s get started. I think we can actually do this.”

  “Go get ’em, girls,” Brian said, sending her off with a quick kiss.

  Megan snuck behind the DJ and asked for the mic. Amelia was at her side, clad in an off-the-shoulder pink dress and Bohemian flats. The pair of them up there may have come across as opposites. The serious one and the hippie. The pro and the am. But together, they were a team. And when Megan caught Kate’s eye as she cleared her throat away from the mic, she saw there was just one person missing.

  Clara.

  She briefly scanned the crowd, smiling as the milling bodies paused and turned to her, the music drifting down to a minimal level.

  “Good evening,” Megan said into the microphone. She didn’t see Clara, and after just a beat, forced herself on. “And welcome to the inaugural Fireflies in the Field mixer. My hope is that tonight will be your first and last time using our service,” she winked blatantly as the crowd laughed. “But in truth, you’ll always be welcome at our mixers. Maybe next time, you’ll be dragging your best friend here. After all, only those who are in love can make the best matchmakers.”

  Low murmurs rippled against the night, and Megan smiled again. “If we didn’t get to meet earlier, I’m Megan Stevenson, and this is my sister Amelia, our Mistress of Ceremonies. Before I give the mic over to her, I’d like to open the night with a brief toast.” She held her glass up, and the group mirrored her. “To finding fireflies in Hannigan field.”

  The women in the crowd ahhed, and Amelia whispered a compliment to Megan then took the mic.

  As she spoke, working off the cuff and without her notecards, Megan crept away and joined Kate at the buffet.

  “Great job,” Kate murmured. “And Amelia is knocking it out of the park, too.” Kate held up a hand and waved as Amelia introduced her.

  With a smile plastered across her face—even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop—Megan leaned over to Kate. “Where’s Clara?”

  “I haven’t seen her return. I sent a quick text and no reply yet.”

  “Do you think she’s going to the bonfire instead?” Megan asked, worried. Though why, she couldn’t pin down.

  Kate looked around and then shrugged. “If she is, she’s missing out.”

  Breaking her grin to bite her lower lip, Megan asked, “Do you think it’s going well?”

&n
bsp; “Are you kidding?” Kate said. “It’s adorable. People are having fun, and it’s low pressure. That’s the best way to move forward. Because, you know what? You’re right,” Kate pointed out.

  “Right about what?”

  “If you’re successful, then you’ll never see these people again. So, adding that little bit about this being more social than romantic, that was clever. I swear I think I saw a collective shoulder drop when you said that.”

  Megan smiled again. “Good, good. Well, that is the goal. We’re here to set them up and have fun, and we hope they find love, but you know… it’s more than that. It’s a community thing, too. Our app is going to help drive the romance part of the business, but these events… they will be the heart and soul, you know?”

  “Right,” Kate replied, but her attention was drifting. “Then again, you might be surprised at how many people do pair off tonight.”

  “You think?” Megan asked, though Kate was smiling and staring off, her eyes glinting in the dusk on a new point of focus.

  “Yes,” Kate answered, lifting her chin to direct Megan’s gaze toward the edge of the dance floor. “I think I see tonight’s first pair of fireflies. Look over there.”

  But Megan didn’t get a chance to see what Kate was pointing at, because right when Megan turned her face, someone grabbed her hand from behind and swung her around.

  Brian.

  “I have a surprise,” he whispered, drawing her a few feet away from Kate and cupping her face in his hands.

  Returning his mischievous grin, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  He tugged something out of his back pocket. And that’s when she saw it. Not the thing he was pulling out to show her, but his ring finger. On it, his wedding band. Her hand flew to her own white gold set, the square, modest solitaire, and she twisted it, her mind reeling over the fact that not once… not one single moment in the last several months had she even considered pulling it off of her finger. And not once did she ever notice that his was missing either.