The Awakening by Heather Graham

him. “Good, huh? And sad, really sad.”
    â€œVery,” he said softly.
    They exited through the gift shop, pausing to look at a few books, T-shirts, and other memorabilia. As they studied some titles and Finn tried to decide what book to buy that would give him a good overview of the area, a man approached them.
    â€œMegan?”
    She turned around, frowning, apparently not recognizing the man who had tentatively spoken her name.
    He was twenty-five to thirty, nicely dressed in a tailored suit and suede jacket. His sandy hair was a little shorter than Finn’s, and had the look of being run through absently and often with his fingers. Good-looking face, all well-spaced angles, dark brown eyes. Medium tall.
    â€œMike?” Megan said cautiously.
    The man smiled. Dimples creased in his cheeks, taking away the somewhat severe look of the academic the man had.
    â€œYeah, it’s me.” He caught both her hands, kissed her cheeks.
    â€œIt’s great to see you,” Megan said. “What are you doing here—well, obviously, you still live in the area.”
    â€œGrounded in the home haunting grounds, I’m afraid,” he said ruefully. “But you—I haven’t seen you in years! Have you moved back?”
    â€œNo, I’m living in New Orleans now.” She turned then, looking at Finn. “I want you to meet an old friend, Mike Smith. Mike, this is my husband, Finn Douglas. We’re back playing at the new hotel for Halloween week.”
    â€œSo you kept up with the music!” Mike Smith said, turning what seemed to Finn to be a too adoring gaze from Megan to acknowledge her introduction. “Hello, Finn. Nice to meet you. And congratulations. You’ve married the girl of my dreams.”
    â€œThanks,” Finn said, shaking hands with the fellow. “Nice to meet you, too.” Was it? He was disturbed by the sense of jealousy that took root inside him.
    â€œSo what are you doing these days?” Megan asked him.
    â€œWorking at the new museum.” He glanced at Finn. “A really good museum. No hocus-pocus. This place is great—they do a really good job with the facts. Not all of the ‘museums’ here do. We’re down the street, near the wharf, and cover the founding of the area, the Puritan tradition, and how it was possible for the craze to have gotten started. We also have a huge section on the seafaring days. Come by and see us.”
    â€œWe definitely will,” Megan said.
    â€œWe’re a little booked for today,” Finn reminded her.
    Mike Smith waved a hand in the air. “I’ll be there all week. I’ll give you a behind-the-scenes tour when you come. Just ask for me at the window.”
    â€œThanks,” Megan said, and Finn nodded, acknowledging the invitation as well.
    â€œJust stopped by to get a new book that they’ve gotten in and we haven’t,” he said with a grimace. “It’s great to see you, Megan. And good to meet you, Finn. Congratulations on your marriage, and your music.”
    â€œThanks,” Finn murmured.
    Mike Smith waved a hand in the air and walked off.
    â€œOld beau?” Finn couldn’t help but query.
    Megan shook her head, smiling with a little wrinkle of her nose. “Way too academic for me, back then. I wanted to be a wild child. Of course, I wasn’t very wild, either, but I suppose I was in my own mind. Mike was a few years older than me in school. Valedictorian and all that. Back then, he had huge, horn-rimmed glasses and his nose in a book all the time. I should have figured he’d wind up in a museum. Or teaching, or creating something in a laboratory, or the like.”
    The guy was gone. Megan had been so offhand.
    Finn dismissed his absurd sense of jealousy.
    When they came back out on the street, the beautiful bright blue sky that had graced the morning was gone.
    A gray pallor had settled over the town.
    â€œWant lunch