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From the outside, the place wasn’t anything special—a two-story stucco with a tiled roof and arched windows, identical to every other house on the block. Nice enough, but nothing that would make you stop and look.
Behind the solid fence, though, it was magic. A huge maple tree filled most of the tiny front yard, and underneath it was dirt, bark, and the fairy garden Mac and Laura had created.
Moss-covered branches brought home from McKenzie family camping trips, rocks of all sizes, and little handmade houses assembled from kits ordered online combined to create a tiny forest village. Miniature wood and metal furniture nestled in the ground like it had all been there forever.
It was beyond awesome.
Dick smiled to see that Laura had dug a shallow hole, lined it with gravel, and filled it with twigs stacked in a triangle like a bonfire. He bent down to one house and added the tiny, hand-carved bed he found in a crafter’s shop, knowing Laura would think the fairies brought it.
He rang the bell and waited, impatient, wishing he could just open the door. Small feet pounded across the tile and he braced himself as Laura yanked open the door, yelled, “Daddy!”, and the little midget launched herself at him. He caught her and yelled, “Midge!”, their usual game. Her little arms squeezed his neck so hard they cut off his airway, and he had to tickle her to loosen her grip.
That laugh was the best part of his day. Hell, his whole damn week.
Laura squeezed his cheeks with sticky hands and smacked a kiss on his mouth, then he scrunched up her nose and rubbed a hand over it. “Your beard is scratchy.”
With Laura settled onto his arm, Dick carried her into the house, shutting the door as he went. The clickety-clack of heels had him turning around to see Mac.
She looked hot , still dressed for work in an electric blue, belted shirt-style dress that showed off the right amount of leg. Her heels accented her muscular calves, nicely formed from the rock-climbing she’d taken up a few years ago.
“Mommy! Daddy’s here!”
Mac widened her eyes in mock-surprise. “I wondered why you looked taller. Hey, Dick,” she said, giving him a small smile.
“Yeow, Mac-attack. Quit your job. That dress is working enough for both of you.”
The smile got bigger before she pulled it in. “I’ll be ready to go in five. Do you want to drive together?”
“Only if I can put Josh in the trunk.”
“Funny.” Mac’s attention turned to Laura. “You, Miss, need to go put on a clean shirt. I don’t even want to know what’s on that one.”
Laura looked down at herself and ran a finger over the dark stain on the blue fabric, and held it up to Dick’s mouth. “Jelly. Wanna taste?”
Dick licked the digit and grimaced. “They make dirt jelly?”
“Nope. Blueberry. Put me down, I gotta change.” She wriggled in his arms and he plopped her down on her feet before she fell. Her footsteps on the stairs landed heavy for such a small kid—she was the shortest one in her kindergarten class and, for like the millionth time, he wondered how something so little made so much noise.
“Wash your hands!” he and Mac yelled in unison, ending in a grin on each side when they realized it.
“Jinx, you owe me a Coke,” he teased.
“I need to throw the dishes in the dishwasher before we leave. Come on, you can get it yourself.”
If it was anybody else he would have thought, when she turned and headed to the kitchen, she put something extra in her step just for him. But it was Mac and, besides the night-o-conception six years ago, they didn’t do that. Didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view, though.
Dick grabbed his Coke and settled at the breakfast counter. “So, any clue what we’re in for tonight?”
Mac snorted and shook her head, using a long handled brush to scrub the dishes mostly clean before she loaded them. “I don’t think we have to worry. It’s an Open House, not a conference. They discourage conversations about individual kids.”
“Yeah, but it’s only October and they’ve already called us three times—“
“Two of which I blame you for. No way Laura got that potty mouth from me, and I didn’t teach her how to punch.”
Her eyes lit up and, since it looked like she was working not to laugh, Dick knew she was teasing. “The kid’s a goddam sponge, and you can’t tell me you’ve never dropped the F bomb in front of her. Especially with your pothole-Tourettes.”
Mac rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’ll co-own that one. But they really need to fix the streets around here.”
“And the third call was all you.”
Mac scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t know Laura was around when I said that about Julia’s mom, much less that she would repeat it. What five-year-old picks up on sycophant as a bad word?”
“Sick-elephant,” Dick reminded her, and laughed. “Our kid’s awesome, isn’t she?”
Mac shot a look down the hallway, making sure they were alone before she returned the smile and nodded. “Yeah, but by now, Mrs. Hernandez isn’t so sure.”
“Whatevs, her loss. How long ‘til Josh gets here?” Not that Dick cared. He had tried to be nice to Mac’s boyfriend once he figured out the guy was sticking around. But the dude always looked at him like he smelled bad, and the glances he shot Mac were like, ‘Seriously, you let this idiot knock you up?’
As if Dick didn’t see that look enough when it first happened.
Mac closed the dishwasher and dried her hands on a towel hanging from the stove. “No Josh. Just us.”
Okay, it wasn’t very grown-up to fist-pump, but it was bad enough Dick’d had to put up with the guy at his own kid’s birthday parties for the last two years.
Mac’s eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted up into that sarcastic, “Really?” expression she wore so often around him. But at least she didn’t look mad.
When Dick grinned and shrugged in response, he got another eye roll from her. Yeah, so his feelings about Josh weren’t exactly secret.
She squirted lotion onto her hands and rubbed them together. The scent of lavender filled the kitchen and Dick watched her hands sliding, circling each other. They were excellent hands--elegant, capable, and unadorned, like Mac herself.
“Don’t bring Josh up unless Laura asks,” Mac warned. “She’s so excited about tonight, she probably won’t even notice.”
Dick knew Laura would not care about Josh being AWOL. She didn’t hate the guy, she just had this little way of sighing every time he was around. And she said his name the same way she said ‘bedtime’ or ‘asparagus’.
Mac studied him. Her head tilted and brows scrunched up. “So, what’s with the beard?”
Dick ran his hand over his cheeks, mostly to cover up the shit-eating grin about to break through. “Figured I’d try it. What d’ya think?”
“I think,” Mac said, that cute-as-fuck dimple in her cheek flashing for a second, “last time you were here, you overhead Josh say he’d been working on growing his for a couple of weeks.”
“Hmph,” Dick sneered, “I thought Laura rubbed her hands on his face and got him dirty.”
He wasn’t sure if Mac pressed her lips together so she didn’t laugh, or to keep from calling him a jerk. It was getting harder to tell with her anymore.
Mac reached across the counter and ran her fingers across his cheeks. Dick had been in the woods once when a little bird landed by his foot. He’d stayed completely still, awed when the thing hopped over and pecked at the laces of his boot. It was the same feeling now.
She never touched him.
“I like it.” Mac smiled. “It makes you look grown up, and goes with your shorter hair.”
“Um, thanks?” Her hands stayed on his face, sending the scent of lavender into his brain and messing it up. His internal systems shut down, so he forgot to breathe.
The clump, clump, clump of Laura running down the stairs broke whatever spell he was under and Mac dropped her hands.
Laura had changed her shirt for a clean red one, then apparently used it to dry her hands after she washed them. The silent laughter that passed between him and Mac came from five years of figuring out which fights were worth it.
“I’m ready. Let’s do this thang.” Laura matched her words with a sassy heel spin and shimmy that was creepier than it was cute.
As she strutted toward the front door, Dick looked at Mac, who shook her head. They couldn’t source half the stuff the kid came up with.
Mac’s purse hung off the high-backed stool, and Dick accidentally knocked it off when he stood up. Half the contents spilled across the floor and she came around the counter to help pick them up.
He threw her compact and wallet back in the purse, but when his fingers closed around a small velvet box, Dick held it up to study. His thumb popped the catch and inside was a gold band with an oversize, ostentatious diamond. It was nothing like Mac, not her style at all, but it had been in her purse.
Mac was busy scooping up flash drives and other random crap. Her name, usually so easy to say, came out choked, questioning. “Mac?” He held up the box.
She bit the corner of her lip and grabbed it from his hand. Her movements were jerky when she shoved the thing into her bag and stepped away from him, down the hall. “We better go. We’re going to be late.”
They followed up the Open House with a trip to Baskin-Robbins, which meant Laura was a sticky, chocolate mess by the time they got back to Mac’s, and half asleep. Dick scooped her out of the backseat and, when she settled her head into the crook of his neck, he changed his mind.
Forget her laugh when he first showed up tonight. This was the best part of his day.
When they got inside and he went to set Laura down, she clamped her arms around his neck and asked, “Can you read me stories tonight?”
Dick eye-checked with Mac, who shrugged. “Wash her up first. I just changed those sheets.”
She followed them upstairs and went to her own room while Dick took Laura to clean up and brush her teeth. The deal was two stories, but she always tried to stretch it out. Tonight it was by picking long ones, ‘Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel,’ and ‘The Three Little Wolves and The Big Bad Pig’.
When he finished those, she mooched for a third. “But, Daddy, it’s a special night. Please.” Her begging involved a head tilt and batting of eyelashes she must have picked up on their last trip to New York. It was a signature Ronnie move.
Usually Dick thought it was cute, the way she tried to work him over, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood. “What’s the deal when I say no?”
She sighed, “You mean it,” then grumbled,“hardass,” low enough under her breath he let it slide.
“Right. Now goodnight.” He leaned down, gave her a kiss on her nose, and ran his stubbled cheeks over hers to make her giggle. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
With the light out, the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets Mac had put all over the walls and ceiling came to life. Laura sighed, and the bed squeaked slightly as she turned over onto her side, the way she always slept.
The thought that’d been circling his head all night came to the forefront again.
Mac’s getting married.
Which meant Josh would be here every night and these extra moments with Laura probably wouldn’t happen anymore.
Or worse, Mac and Laura would move somewhere else. Mac’d probably love that, since Dick had practically forced her to move into this house.
⤄
“No, Dick. I don’t want the house.”
“Then pick out another one.”
“The house isn’t the problem. It’s that I can’t afford it on my own. The baby and I will be fine in my apartment.”
Dick usually prided himself on being a laid-back guy, but they’d been fighting about the house thing forever and the baby was due in a couple of months.
“What the fuck, Mac? You don’t want the house, you don’t want child support, you don’t want to marry me—”
She frowned at him. “No fair. You don’t want to marry me, either.”
He didn’t. Had offered because it seemed like he should. “Yeah, okay, but I’m trying, here.”
“You are, I just…” She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I told you I’m fine doing this on my own.”
“Yeah, well, good for you. But I’m not fine with it. That’s my baby in there and I need to know.”
“Know what?”
“If you’re going to let me,” the acrid taste in the back of his throat made him swallow, “be a dad. Take care of my kid. Not be some rich asshole who lives in a McMansion while his kid’s in a one bedroom downtown.”
“I’m moving up fast at work. I’ll be able to afford more soon.”
“That’s not what I fucking mean,” he snapped.
“This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” She actually sounded surprised. Like moving his real-estate business to Berkeley wasn’t enough. Like showing up at every doctor appointment wasn’t enough. Like signing them up for a birthing class wasn’t enough to prove he was all in.
“Yeah, it does.”
“But buying me a house, Dick, it’s too much.”
“Fine, it won’t be yours. I was going to set up a trust fund for the baby , anyway. I’ll put the house in it, and that way it’ll belong to the kid when it’s old enough.”
She crossed her arms, resting them on the small mound of her belly. “I won’t own it. And you won’t give her access to the trust until she’s twenty-five.”
They’d found out that day the baby was a girl, and it hadn’t actually set into the gray matter yet. Hearing Mac say ‘she’ like that made him shiver.
“I’ll even add a P.S. that she has to be a college graduate with no felonies on her rap sheet, if it’ll make you feel better.”
The corners of Mac’s mouth twitched. “She’s going to have a rap sheet?”
“Well, she's our kid, isn’t she?” He said it like a joke, but the way Mac cocked her head and thought for a moment said she knew what he was really asking.
“Yeah, Dick. God help me, but she is.”
⤄
He stepped into the hallway, shut the door quietly behind him, and looked around.
If they left, he’d have to move in, to make sure Laura didn’t lose the fairy village and her star room. His house was just a place to put stuff anyway, not a home. Not like this place, with Laura’s height marked in the doorway and the smell of Mac’s lavender lotion in the halls.
Mac’s bedroom door was half-open, and he heard her moving around in there. If he took off now, they’d avoid this conversation for at least one more day. He called out, “Night, Mac. I’m taking off.”
“Dick, wait! Can you come here for a second?”
“Fuck,” he muttered, then more loudly, “Sure.” He found her half inside the bathroom’s double vanity, flannel pajama-clad legs stretched across the floor at an awkward angle. “What’re you doing?”
“I had a leak. Can you turn the faucet on and off and tell me if it’s still dripping?”
He leaned over and cranked the knob, waited a moment before turning it off, and watched the water continue to drizzle down from the faucet. “Yeah, something’s still wrong.”
“Crap.” She stood and grasped the counter behind her, leaning against it. “I’ll have to leave the water off tonight and get a new washer tomorrow.”
“Mac, dude, I’ve got like fifty rental properties in this area alone. I’ll send one of my handymen over to take care of it.”
She let out a relieved sigh. “Actually, that would be great. I’ve got a project I was going to work on tomorrow while Laura was with you. It would save me a lot of time. Thanks.”
“No problem.” He half-backed out of the bathroom, but something about the way she was looking at him kept him from going. “What?”
Her eyes fell to her feet, then rose again while giving him a wry grin. “Remember the last time we were in here together?”
Because of Laura, they’d spent a lot of time together in this house, though little of it together in a bathroom. Hell yes, he remembered. “Doesn’t ring a bell,” he lied. “I’m gonna go.“ Dick pointed a thumb over his shoulder.
“Laura was two weeks old,” she interrupted. “I called you because I was freaking out. She wouldn’t stop crying and she wouldn’t nurse, and my breast pump broke. It was eleven o’clock at night and I couldn’t get parts for it until the morning. Remember?”
Remember, as if he hadn’t played that memory in his head a thousand times since. It’d been like ninety degrees that night, and Laura was too fussy and hot to nurse. When he got there, she took a bottle from him just fine, using the extra stuff Mac had pumped and put in the freezer. She wouldn’t do it for Mac, though; something about the bottle coming from the momma cow being confusing.
Mac’s smile softened. “You got her to sleep by putting her under that fan, then found me in here crying, and asked what was wrong.”
She stood up straight and dropped her arms to her sides, then turned to face him and holy hell, her breasts were huge; the shirt she wore stretched tight over them. It would be awesome if she didn’t look so embarrassed. Especially when she went to cross her arms over her chest and winced before putting them down again.
Dick couldn’t resist the tease. “Yeah, you looked like one of those babes from the Boobilicious flicks. That one’s still in the bank, by the way.”
“Ew,” Mac laughed, wrinkling her nose at him. She hoisted herself onto the countertop, her short legs swinging from the edge. “Anyway, you asked me what was wrong, and I fell apart. Like a girl.”
⤄
Dick didn’t know what to do. All the shit they’d gone through and he’d never seen her cry. He held her, careful not to jostle her chest until she calmed down. “I’ll leave you to deal with,” he waved a hand, “that.”
Mac turned her back on him and rested her hands on either side of the sink. “I can’t—I tried a hot shower, compresses, and hand express. Nothing’s working.”
“Shit, Mac. There’s gotta be a Walmart open or something. I’ll get you a pump.”
She swiped at her face. “I have a backup pump. It’s crap, they’re all crap. The only good ones are online and the new filters are coming, but they won’t be here until after ten tomorrow and that’s twelve hours from now and it hurts and I need Laura and she won’t nurse!”
“I can find a dairy farm, steal you one of those udder machines—“
Mac barked a laugh that turned into a sob as she leaned to rest her forehead on the sink's edge. “I’m tired, so tired. And I can’t sleep. God, it hurts. It hurts so bad.”
He had an insane idea, something he’d seen on one of his more subversive porns, probably. But he couldn’t do nothing while she was in pain. “Turn around.” When she did, he said. “Get up on the counter.”
She frowned and opened her mouth to protest. Dick held up a hand. “Just give me five minutes, okay?”
The deep shadows under her eyes explained why she didn’t fight him like he expected her to. Mac did as he said, wincing at even the slight jarring of raising herself three inches to sit on the counter. Her body completely tensed when he lifted her shirt, not taking his eyes off of hers until the last second.
Dick had been afraid that if she let him get this far, he’d be turned on, but once he saw her breasts that wasn’t going to happen. No wonder she was in pain. Her boobs looked hard and were enormous; way too big for her small body, like implants done wrong. Blue veins stood out against her pale skin.
When he put his head down to take one of her nipples gently into his mouth, she squawked and tried to pull back.
“Five minutes, remember?” He waited for her nod and saw her eyes fill up with tears again. She looked freaking mortified, so he reached over and turned off the light. “Just breathe, Mackie. It’s easier if you relax, remember?”
One last nod and he bent to his work. He had flashing thought of, “ What the FUCK are you doing, dude ?” But he couldn’t stand that tight look on her face, or the way she flinched every time she moved.
It was hard to get things started, since her breast had no give. But soon he felt a sweetness flood his mouth , and she relaxed into him. The hand on the back of his head worked its fingers into his hair, but only to draw him closer.
Dick lost time in that bathroom. All those years of keg stands came in handy. When he felt something cold on his neck, he realized that the other breast had started going, and soaked his shirt. By the time he worked his way there, it only took half the time to drain as the first, and Mac was half asleep.
Finally finished, he scooped her off the counter and dropped her into bed. She didn’t let go of his hair, though, until she’d pulled him close and kissed his cheek. Then she turned over and closed her eyes.
⤄
Until now, they’d never talked about that night. It was a thing; it happened. “Yeah, I didn’t know what else to do. I hate it when chicks cry.”
She smiled at him. “God, I was miserable. Tired and frustrated and in so much pain. I swear it was worse than labor. After that, I slept all night. When I got up in the morning, the house was clean. Laura was happy and ready to nurse, and you made me my favorite tea.” She laughed. “Then told me I had to take it straight because we were out of milk.”
Dick shrugged. He cleaned instead of sleeping, keyed up and wigged out about what had just happened. “That’s what dads are supposed to do, right?”
“Yeah, well. I never said thank you, so thank you.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. It didn’t seem like something she should thank him for after everything she went through having his kid and all. That had been some freaky shit.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk to you. Stay for a glass of wine?”
It took too long for him to answer, but finally, he nodded. Might as well get it over with . “Sure.”
He followed her to the kitchen; dread filling the back of his throat . She was setting him up for a serious talk, one involving engagement rings and big changes. Another man living in the same house with his little girl and being the guy at the dinner table every night, reading her stories, and holding her when she woke up from a nightmare.
He and Mac agreed that no bed-buddies got sleepover privileges on nights Laura was around, but he was pretty sure the same rule didn’t apply to step-parents.
Mac pulled down two glasses, poured the wine, and handed one to him. “You were in her room so long I thought you fell asleep reading to her again.”
He took a long sip; the Malbec pulled away the moisture in his mouth nicely. “No, she tricked me by picking out long ones.”
Mac laughed and walked down the hall, leaving him to follow. “She likes the voices you do. But yeah, I miss the brevity of Crockett Johnson.”
When she settled into one end of the couch, he did the same at that other end. “Who?”
“Harold and the Purple Crayon books.”
“Right. I like that little bald dude.” Her couch was new, soft and covered in some kind of heavy navy-blue cotton. The cushions cradled his ass perfectly. Next time he needed a couch, he was going to buy one like it.
A phone buzzed and Mac grabbed her cell. She looked at the caller ID, set her wine down on the coffee table, and mouthed, “Excuse me,” before walking out.
Dick could hear her muffled voice, but the only word he made out was ‘Josh’. Dude was probably calling to find out how the school thing went. The smartass comment that formed in his head would go unsaid.
Most of his step-parents wouldn’t even recognize him if they ran into him on the street; the guy was at least interested in Laura .
Which didn’t keep Dick from hating him anyway, just on principle.
The inevitability of Mac getting married had always been there—she was awesome. Not in the sex-bunny way he usually judged the ladies, but the kind of babe you would want being a mom to your kid. Who made you laugh and didn’t try to change you, and who wouldn’t annoy the shit out of you once the sex got old.
He set his own wine down and stood up, the thought of sex and Mac weirding him out a little. Other than that one Jose Cuervo night, six years ago, it had been totally off the table. Two people who had no business being together, in each other’s lives because of a little kid.
That one night had been an—well, he couldn’t really call the sex an accident. Or a mistake, since they’d gotten Laura out of the deal. There was a word for something bizarre that didn’t happen very often.
An abirition, or something like that.
But since then, no. Even if he wasn’t afraid Ronnie would handcuff him to a radiator again just for suggesting it, he wouldn’t go there. Sure, Mac was hot, in that Skipper doll kind of way, but he preferred Barbies, and she liked her androgynous nerd boys. They didn’t think of each other like that.
Catching sight of a photo on the wall, he edited it to exempt nights when tequila was involved. Laura had fashioned the frame out of popsicle sticks and painted it a butt-ugly green, and Mac let Laura choose the photo that went into it. The picture was from Logan and Veronica’s wedding over three years ago. The two of them, he and Mac, were in formal wear, dancing on the ship. Some old-style song had been playing that actually involved putting his arm around her waist and, surprise-surprise, she didn’t look grossed out.
It was right before Mac started dating Josh. They were stuck on a yacht for, like, four days straight, with nothing to do but play poker and drink. By the night the wedding happened, he was over the heavy drinking, but Mac had gotten hammered. And handsy.
Dick had to help her to her room. Once he gave up on guiding her stumbling ass, he scooped her up to carry her. When he set her down on the bed, she pulled him down into a kiss. At first he’d gone along with it, surprised and fucking turned on. But when her hand moved down to his fly he’d put on the brakes.
He was usually a walking hard-on, but it had been Mac. His kid’s mom. One drunken hookup between them had turned out okay; another could screw everything up. She passed out about three seconds later, and he was pretty sure she didn’t even remember.
“Sorry, it was Josh.” Mac said behind him.
“I figured. I was bored all the way in here.”
She pretended to ignore the dig, but the way she turned her head so fast, he would swear she was trying not to let him see her smile. Her gaze fell to the picture in front of him.
“That was a fun night, huh?” she asked.
“More fun for some of us than others, boozy.” He pantomimed tipping a bottle back.
“Hey!” Mac laughed and slapped his shoulder lightly. “Open bar at a wedding.” She moved back to the couch, this time stretching her legs out along the length of it. When he grabbed his wine and sat down, her feet were less than an inch from his thigh.
It was getting late, and he felt a little like a man facing a hangman’s noose. Taking a swig of wine for fortification, he asked, “So, that ring? Is it what I think it is?”
She sighed and studied the wine in her glass. “Yeah.”
He didn’t have to ask why she wasn’t wearing it. Mac would want to talk to Laura first.
“If you didn’t say yes already, make him sweat a little. It’s good for him.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t play those kinds of games, Dick.”
He was tired , and a headache was forming behind his eyes. He’d only made the remark so he wouldn’t say something more asinine. Like how she could do better. Dick forced a cheerfulness into his voice. “So, lay it on me, Macster. What kind of romantic shit did Josh come up with?”
She rolled her eyes and let her head fall back, a snort escaping. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.”
“Um, since you reacted like that, now you have to tell me.”
She puffed out a laugh through her nose as she drank, causing the wine in her glass to rise at the sides. Her toes stretched out toward him before relaxing again.
When she continued to be quiet, he used his elbow to nudge the bottom of her foot. “C’mon, I really want to hear how he screwed up proposing to you.”
“No. I want to drink my wine and let my feet uncramp. I was wearing those damn heels all day.”
Dick studied her feet, covered in fuzzy black socks and resting a few inches from his leg. “Trade you a foot massage,” he offered.
Mac grunted and reached back to put her wineglass on the end table, then scooched down so her feet were in his lap. “OK, but don’t tell anyone I gave in so easily. My feet just really hurt.”
He placed his own glass on the table before turning to settle himself into the corner of the couch, a better angle to get at her feet and watch her while she talked. It actually surprised Dick she took him up on the offer.
Beginning with her right foot, he used both hands and worked his thumbs into the instep. Her groan came out low and sexy, and gave him thoughts that were… fuck, totally not allowed. That shit had to get shut down right away. “I’m doing my part. Whatcha got, Mackenzie?”
“Fine,” she muttered. “Josh surprised me with dinner at Hanover’s.”
“Forced ambiance, snooty waiters, and hundred-dollar entrees? You hate those restaurants.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him and he mimed zipping his lips so she’d go on with the story. “Anyway, I order a glass of Sauv, and when they bring it, there’s an engagement ring sitting at the bottom. Josh gets down on one knee and proposes. He. Freakin’. Proposes.”
Dick shouldn’t laugh, but it’s funny. Mac was a private person. To her a proposal was about as private as it gets. “You ran out, didn’t you?” His hands worked at her foot, using his fingers and thumbs to apply pressure to both sides as he made it slowly toward her toes.
Mac rolled her eyes. “Of course I—,” she frowned and sat up. “How did you know I ran out?”
He shrugged. If Josh had bothered asking, Dick would have told him to take her to the beach, or maybe a weekend getaway, to that place she loved in Mendocino.
She flopped back and wriggled her left foot. “Do this one. Keep it even.”
Dick switched his attention to the other foot. “So you told Josh you’d think about it and kicked his ass home?”
“No, we came back here and had a fight. I was furious he’d done that. I mean, almost three years together and it’s like he doesn’t even know me.”
“I dunno, Macs, I think this one’s on you. Weren’t you supposed to accidentally swallow the ring?” Dick was enjoying this a little too much, but what a douche.
Mac stuck out her bottom lip and exhaled, dislodging a lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead. When Dick grabbed a foot in each hand and started kneading them equally, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh.
Damn, it was work getting her to talk. Her brain always worked faster than her mouth could keep up, so she waited to say anything until she’d figured it all out. “So, is that it? You guys made up?”
She pulled her feet out of his lap and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. The wineglass was still on the table at her side, yet she reached over and grab it without even looking. “Ugh, that was just the beginning of the fight. It opened a whole Pandora’s box of other problems we’d been ignoring.”
“Like how you can do better than a boring nerd boy whose favorite game is SIMS?” Yeah, he probably shouldn’t poke fun and grin at her when she’s probably upset. But he’d never even seen them bicker—this had possibilities all over it.
“Yes!” Mac jumped off the couch and stood in front of him, her voice raised to a level Dick had never heard from her before. “He started criticizing everything about me. For starters, he doesn’t get my friends. Parker’s flighty, Wallace is too much of a jock, and he called Logan and Veronica loose cannons.”
“Why?” That didn’t make any sense. Logan and Ronnie were almost boring since they got married and she quit the FBI. Kept saying they like the ‘quiet life’.
“Last time they visited, we left the house when they were having a huge fight, and we came back when they were making up. More like in the middle of making up.”
“Wait, you mean like in the middle , in the middle?” At her shudder, Dick laughed. “When was that?” They’d all gotten used to the ups and downs of Ronnie and Logan, but it was funny now that they’d stopped breaking up.
Mac scrunched up her face, the memory obviously not making her chill out. “The same day Logan bought me this couch.”
“ Haha, way to go, Logan.”
“Anyway,” Mac emphasized the word, to get him back to their conversation. “Josh started ragging on my family and complaining about the Mackenzie annual family camping trip.”
Dick went on that trip once, when Laura was three. She cried when Mac said Daddy couldn’t go and, rather than try to explain split families to a toddler, they invited him along. Her family was totally cool, and the trip had been a blast. Mac’s dad taught him all about bear boxes, setting up a tent, and cooking with fire.
“What about your family?” Dick asked.
“That it was a chore to spend time with them. I mean, dammit, I’m the only one that gets to think that! At least I love them when they’re driving me crazy.”
She took a swallow of her wine, big this time, and slammed it down on the end table almost hard enough to break the glass. Dick sat back to watch; it was awesome to see Mac pissed at someone else for once.
“After that, he started on me. Me! The woman he’d wanted to marry an hour ago. Said I was closed off. That I was hard to get through to, but like he was a big man for even trying!”
“I hope you told him to go to hell,” he growled, pissed on her behalf.
All the anger leached out of her, and she sunk down to sit cross-legged on the ground. “No, that was just the beginning. I’m pissed about it now, but at the time, when he said that? It kind of took the wind out of me. I wondered if he was right.”
“No,” Dick snapped. “He’s a lazy fucker. You don’t go on and on about your feelings like Logan, or every other chick I know, but so what? It doesn’t take a hell of a lot of work to figure you out.”
This wasn’t funny anymore. Josh didn’t just botch asking Mac to marry him, he screwed with her head. Now he was really curious how they went from a fight this bad to her keeping that damn ring.
Mac moved, only to lean back and pull her knee under her chin. Her hands worked into the carpet and pulled at the deep pile. “Do you regret it, Dick? Me getting pregnant?”
She had never asked him this. Dick figured since she was so much smarter than he was, she wouldn’t have to.
“You’re asking me if I regret you getting knocked up with Laura? Fuck no, Mac. That kid is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Yeah.” She kept plucking at the carpet, not looking up at him. “But I mean the rest of it. It was a big deal, leaving everything behind and starting over up here.”
He snorted, meaning it. “What did I leave behind? I can run my business from anywhere, and the only other things I did were hang out at the beach, get drunk, and hook up. I can do that here.”
That wasn’t exactly true. He missed the coastline of Southern California, and hangovers weren’t worth it when you had a little kid, but he didn’t care about any of that. He’d move to freakin’ Monkey’s Eyebrow, Arizona if it meant staying close to Laura.
Mac looked up and flashed him a grin. “You lie. You only really get drunk anymore when you and Logan go on your annual surf trip.”
“Yeah, well, turns out being a raging alchy isn’t such a turn on for the ladies once you’re over twenty-five.”
She cocked her head at him. “Which ladies? You haven’t mentioned Muffy in a while. Do you have a new one?”
“Misty, and she dumped my ass four months ago. No, I don’t have a new one.” Mac didn’t need to elaborate for him to understand what she meant. “Thanks for putting it that way.”
“Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but. “I have a hard time calling them girlfriends when they don’t last more than a couple of months, and you’ve never had one serious enough to introduce to Laura.”
Because he had hated it when his mom or dad expected him and Cass to treat every new bump-buddy like a member of the family. He figured the best plan was to get his jollies and leave his kid out of it.
“So, not hooking up either?” Mac asked.
She’d shown no interest in his sex life before, other than to turn her nose up at it. This night had gone from weird to outer dimensions.
Dick rolled his shoulders, studying her. Her chin still rested on her knee and those blue eyes stared up at him, as if she saw something his mirror didn’t show. “I’ll get around to it. Been a little busy with work lately.”
Not exactly true. He did go out, and met some sweet honeys that made him interesting offers, but nobody he was really into. They all seemed too much of some things and not enough of other things.
She nodded and went back to her carpetscaping, eyes trained on her hands. “I never thanked you,” she whispered so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.
This entire conversation had gotten confusing as hell. Mac was all over the place–this thing with Josh must have wrecked her. “Why are you thanking me again? What’d I do?”
“For ignoring me.” The way her eyes flickered up, it was almost like she was checking out his reaction. “Not all the time, just when you’re a step ahead of me, and figure out what I need when I don’t have a clue.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Mac? I just do fifty things and hope to hell at least one of them doesn’t piss you off.”
“Dick, what do you remember about that night?”
He didn’t need to ask which night. There is only one that night between them. “We got drunk, and we fucked.”
Mac winced. “That’s it?”
“I remember you kicking me out the next day.” His voice sounded bitter for some reason, although it shouldn’t. He’d done the same to plenty of one-night stands that stuck around til morning.
“Come on. You didn’t have that much to drink. You remember more about it than that.”
Dick leaned back and ran a palm over his face. “Yeah, so what?”
He remembered. A dozen phone calls to talk about Cass turned into a suggestion for some face time. He flew to Berkeley, and they hung out for three days, only bringing up the good memories with the Beav even though it wasn’t the reason he came. The break happened when they talked about TV shows and ‘Dexter’ came up. Dick lost it and told Mac something he’d kept secret forever. About the dog, Sally, they had when they were kids. The way he’d found Cass with that damn beagle and the knife…
⤄
“It was all my fault. If I told someone, maybe Cass could’ve gotten some help, someone who would’ve understood the signs. Maybe my brother wouldn’t have grown up to be a psycho killer. But I went along what he said, that it was an accident. I helped him bury the damn thing so no one would find out.” All the thoughts he’d kept locked up for years poured out. “Remember when Cass hired that tranny? I slammed him down on the car and was about to pound his face when he brought up that damn dog. He was so calm, so cold. He said, ‘You hit me and you’ll suffer worse, I promise you. You remember Sally?’ It freaked me out, like, I always knew it wasn’t an accident. But I still didn’t tell anybody.”
The pained look on Mac’s face confirmed every thought he’d ever had; it was all his fault. He couldn’t face that look sober, so stomped over to her kitchen, pulled the tequila out of the cupboard, and poured himself a shot.
Mac came over and pulled out another shot glass, taking her own measure. She poured them each a second dose and handed one to him. “Maybe if you had been nicer to him, or told someone about Sally, or listened to him when he didn’t want to play baseball, it all would have been different.”
She held up her glass and clinked it with his. Downing the shot, she rode out a full body shudder and said, “Maybe not.”
Mac kept pace with him, draining the half-empty bottle. She kissed him like she meant it, tore his shirt when trying to get it over his head, and took him in her hand and in her mouth before pulling him on top of her. He was so surprised at how into it she seemed that, before he actually slid into her, he stopped and asked, “Why?”
Her answer, “I don’t know, but we need to,” made a kind of tequila-logic he couldn’t argue with. Logic that completely escaped him once she kissed him again, and he lost himself. Logic that had no place between them when she locked her heels around his waist. Logic that wasn’t even considered the second time, when she rode him until she cried out, and he was right behind because that sound, from her, fucking ended him.
⤄
“Dick, nobody wanted to talk to me about Cassidy. Nobody even said his name. And I needed to talk. I needed to say it and to remember he was more than a murderer and a rapist.”
“I needed that, too, so I was actually doing it for me. Doesn’t count.”
“Okay.” Mac stretched to grab her wine glass and take a sip before setting it down again. She squeezed her eyes shut and spoke like she was being forced to. “When we were having sex, I needed to be in control. And you let me.”
Dick grinned at her and let out a laugh that sounded hollow. He didn’t remember ‘letting her’ do anything. “So I laid back and enjoyed it. They don’t give medals of honor for that, Mackie.”
“Shut up, doofus. I’m trying to make a point here.”
“What point?”
She hugged her knees, rocking a bit. “What about you moving here?”
He shook his head at her. “Didn’t you call me a bastard and tell me you were going to get a restraining order?”
She smiled big enough that the dimple in her cheek showed again. The same dimple, and the same smile that Laura inherited. Sometimes it was weird to see the same face at such different ages. Confusing too, when he loved one of them so much.
Mac chuckled. “Yeah, but I didn’t. Pregnancy hormones and you talking about lizard babies made me go soft.”
⤄
It wasn’t the first time a girl he slept with told him he’d put one up her pike, but it was the first time he believed it. Accusations were part of the deal when you were rich, pretty, and slept around. But Mac. Fuck. The one chick he didn’t want to hurt, and he'd sent her up the duff.
She didn’t want anything from him. Even after he explained he wanted to help she said no, she’d tell him when the baby was born and they’d go from there.
He tried to play it her way, and would have if it wasn’t for fucking Jim. The guy worked two offices down and his wife was expecting their first kid. Jim brought in sonogram pictures and talked about feeling the baby kick. He gave way too many details about doctor visits and what he read that week in some pregnancy book.
One day, Jim left the stupid thing in the coffee room. Dick flipped to the eighth-week chapter and read about reptilian-like fetuses with webbed fingers and toes, disappearing tails, and forming eyelids. Instead of being grossed out, all he could think was: Awesome. They’d made a lizard baby.
Over the next couple of weeks, Jim blathered about hunting down food his wife was craving, giving her massages, and holding her when she cried about nothing. Telling her how beautiful she was when she complained about being fat. The guy seriously wouldn’t shut up.
Mac lived in Northern Cali, and her whole family was south, in Neptune. Her best friend, Ronnie, was in New York. That Wallace dude lived near Mac, but she’d said they didn’t get together that often. Who was going to do all that stuff for her? And what about after the baby was born?
So he bought a house in Berkeley, moved his business, and popped up on her doorstep.
⤄
“So what? You like logic and shit. Two parents is easier than one.” None of this was matching what Mac said about him figuring out what she needed.
“What about buying me rock-climbing lessons for my birthday four years ago?”
Dick threw his hands up. This wasn’t just confusing, it was stupid. “That time I visited you, we drove out to Bodega Bay and climbed to the end of that jetty at Doran Beach. You were like a fucking ibex. I thought you’d like it.”
“And now I’m climbing V5s. That’s what I mean.”
He didn’t get it. Whatever fucking point she was trying to make was going over his head, and he was about sick of rehashing old shit. Sure, she and Josh had a fight after the guy proposed, but so what? Logan and Ronnie fought all the time, and Mac still had that goddam engagement ring.
“Mac, can we go back to talking about Josh?”
“Oh, that.” She drank the last of her wine and moved her glass to the far end so she could sit on the table, right in front of him. “Where did I leave off?”
“You wondered if Josh was right about you being closed off. Which you’re not, just so you know.”
Her mouth curled up at the corners. “Thanks. I realized that, too, and suddenly everything made sense.”
Mac was looking at Dick like he should know what she meant. Like he could read her mind or something. “What made sense?”
“I was closed off.”
Women. Crap. If they were even kind of smart or cool, they were as confusing as fuck. “Mac, get to the fucking point before my head explodes?”
Mac grinned, not put off by his irritation. “I mean, I was closed off with him. Because I barely even liked him.”
All the effort Dick’d put into being polite—well, kinda polite—and she hadn’t even liked the guy? “Then why the fuck did you keep him hanging around for three years?” he growled.
She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “Two reasons. One, because Josh and I made sense on paper. It was easy; we got along okay. But he had to make it all serious.” Mac snorted. “Would you believe, after all that, he treated the proposal like he was applying for a job?”
Her voice changed, affecting a dead-on impersonation of Josh’s nasal tone, and carried the tinge of a rant. “I’ll make a good husband—I cook and clean. We like all the same games and TV shows. I can put up with the camping trips, since they’re only once a year. Plus, Laura needs a—”
She stopped and cleared her throat, as if that was the reason she cut herself off. “I kicked him out and told him I never wanted to see him again. He was calling just now to find out if I changed my mind. I told him to stuff it.”
Dick’s hands twitched. He barely registered what she said about rejecting Josh’s proposal.
“Laura needs a what, Mac?”
Mac shook her head and crossed her arms, shifting her gaze down to the toe she was now digging into the carpet. “It doesn’t matter.”
Dick considered himself a pretty easy-going guy. There was little that was worth getting all jacked up about, but that dickhead Josh thought his kid needed something definitely was.
The cold, serious tone of his voice was unrecognizable, and he barely heard it through the rush of blood flooding his ears. “I’m gonna need to know the rest of that sentence.”
Mac swallowed deeply and met his eyes. “He said Laura needed a real father, not an overgrown playmate.”
Tomorrow. Tomorrow’s newspaper was going to be headlined with the news of his arrest for murder. Finish tarnishing the Casablancas name.
“Do you know what I said? Dick!” she yelled when he didn’t answer her. “Do you know what I said?”
“That he should hide? ‘Cause I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
Mac scooted forward, grabbed his hands, and rested them on his knees. Her eyes moved back and forth, studying him as she spoke. “I said if I were going to do it again, and could handpick anyone to be the father of my children, I would pick you. Every time.”
Dick couldn’t keep looking at her, especially after hearing what Josh thought about him. Mac saying that helped a lot but Josh’s words hit his core. Like he didn’t wonder every day if he’s doing good enough by Laura.
He had to swallow deeply before he spoke. “Thanks.”
“For nothing. It’s the truth.”
Dick felt her eyes on him, but he couldn’t meet them. Maybe she actually meant it, that she’s not sorry he’s her kid’s dad. That she wasn’t just trying to make up for her boyfriend being an asshole. But maybe not.
“Dick, you didn’t ask me the other reason.”
His mind spun and came up with nothing. “Other reason for what?”
“Why did I keep Josh around, even though I didn’t like him? Reason one, like I said, he and I made sense. Reason two…” She shifted to kneel before him and pulled their clasped hands against her stomach.
He lifted his head to find their faces only inches apart. The rich smell of wine hovered between them and he had a fleeting, unwelcome thought to wonder what her tongue would taste like. He wet his lips and pressed them together before he asked, “Reason two, what?”
“Because it was easy. Easier to pretend Josh was what I wanted, than to take a chance,” she gave him a shaky smile, “especially since I was still reeling from rejection. Remember how you turned me down the night Logan and Veronica got married?”
“Mac—“
“I didn’t know how to handle it. So I pretended to pass out and said yes to the next guy that asked me out. But even though it drove me to Josh, I’m glad you didn’t take me up on my badly executed pass. You know why?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, more hurt than he should be. Fucking slayed. “Because you know what it’s like to wake up and find me in your bed.”
“No. Because I wasn’t ready then. But I am now.”
“Ready for what?”
“To admit that I love you.”
His heart sped up before reality set in. Shit. The woman really was a mess. Breaking up with Josh had made her totally fucking delusional. He’d picked up enough women fresh off a breakup to know.
The hands holding his tightened. “Dick, I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened. I can only tell you it’s been there awhile. When Josh started talking about marriage and living together and more kids, I knew. I want those things. All those things. But I want them with you.”
A vine flashed in his brain and he closed his eyes against the tsunami of images; snuggled up in bed with Mac. Kids—not just Laura, but a couple more midgets—busting into the room and jumping onto the bed. Mac laughing, giving him that smile he makes stupid jokes just to see.
- NO. Marriage. Responsibility. Commitment. He doesn’t do that.
Especially with Mac. It was bizarro at first, but they’re good now. They’re buds. Like, three years ago when he took his turn with that funky flu Laura had. Mac checked in on him, brought Gatorade and chicken soup. She even watched The Fast and the Furious with him and didn’t make fun of it.
“Dick, open your eyes. Look at me.”
“Mac, stop,” he whispered, his eyes still screwed shut. “You’re just thinking that way because things tanked with Josh. I’m an asshole.”
“No, you’re not that guy anymore.” When he snorted, she laughed and amended, “Mostly. But somewhere along the way, I started to need you.”
She doesn’t need him. She would have taken care of Laura and done everything on her own and been fine.
Not him. He’s screwed on his own. Like last year when Mac was out of town and Laura broke her arm. He held it together for Laura until Mac showed up at his house right after her plane landed. She took one look at him and, before she even went to check on their daughter, she hugged him. Not a little hug, but the kind that let him hold on for several minutes, until he felt okay again.
“You’re funny, and strong, Dick. And a hell of a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
She’s the strong one. Five years ago, she spent almost twenty hours in labor. The pain got so the hot shower, the walks and even the tennis ball he rubbed against her back didn’t help. But she wouldn’t take anything because she was worried it might hurt the baby, even after the doctors promised her otherwise.
“Plus, and it must be said,” a long-remembered husk creeped into her voice that set off a slow heat in his belly, and lower. “You’re about the damn sexiest man I’ve ever known. It’s pretty much all I can do not to rip your clothes off right now.”
At that, Dick’s eyes flew open to see her looking at him in a way he never imagined she could. And it cut to his core.
“Mac,” his hands shook as he worked their way out of hers. He tucked them into his armpits because they were cold now, so cold. “Don’t. When you kick me out tomorrow, I can’t walk away. Not with Laura—“
“Dick, I won’t kick you out. Listen to me. I. Love. You.”
The stutter in his voice made him sound like a scared, little kid, but the pressure on his chest made it hard to catch his breath. “You-you don’t. You c-can’t.”
Nobody did—not really . Never had.
“I do, and you love me, too.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“M-Mac.”
She rose on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. Within that safe circle, something in Dick loosened and broke as she whispered a litany. Iloveyou, Iloveyou, Iloveyou.
Twenty-six years. It was twenty-six years ago his mom bailed, and in those years the only person who ever said it to him was a midget who was too young to know better. He lived in dread of the day she’d smarten up, like even his own parents did.
Mac’s voice tapered out and, when she went to pull away, Dick wrapped his arms around her small frame.
“Dick?”
“I—“
“What?” She stayed within the circle of his arms but pulled back enough to see his face. With the smallest of smiles, she wiped at his cheek with her thumb and placed a kiss upon it. “Dick, I’m telling you for tonight and tomorrow morning and all the mornings after that. I love you. Tell me you love me.”
Everything was in the balance, like that time he went hang gliding off that cliff. He stood there and looked out at a vast blue sky and knew he had a choice: to stay on safe ground or chance a crash landing.
In that instance he jumped, but he couldn’t now. There was too much to risk. Mac wouldn’t hate him if he didn’t say it back; she wasn’t like that.
He steeled himself to watch her eyes, to own the hurt he was about to cause, and saw her fear. Suddenly he knew the words weren’t his cliff edge. He’d jumped years ago, had loved her so long he couldn’t even remember when it happened. Now it was she who stood on the edge. Who risked everything when he’d never had the balls to.
“I love you, Mackie,” he whispered.
Her hands wrapped around his head and pulled him into her exhilaration. The laugh shared between them was trumped only by the heartbeat he could feel crashing through her chest. Or it was his own. It didn’t matter anymore. With limbs twined and lips pressed together, they fell to the floor, and soared.