Window on the Bay

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Window on the Bay Page 26

by Debbie Macomber


  I wondered if Rowan knew this, and suspected he must. More than once I’d seen him staring intently at his phone and frowning. He must’ve been reading text messages from his daughter.

  “You texted him a picture of your tattoo, didn’t you?”

  Mackensie’s head shot up, her face full of surprise. “He showed you?”

  “No, just speculation on my part.”

  “He gave me whatever I asked for, until I insisted if he loved me and wanted to be part of my life, then he’d buy me that new BMW.” Mackensie looked away, embarrassed to make eye contact.

  Rowan had mentioned that to me. “He refused.”

  “He did, but then, I expected he would. What I didn’t know was that he’d paid for the car I’m driving now and all my college expenses. My mother had made me believe she was sacrificing to scrimp the funds together for my college education. It’s only been since I bumped into my dad that I’ve learned that he was the one who’s been paying for my studies, through a trust fund he had his attorneys manage.”

  Rowan’s ex sounded like a real piece of work.

  “It’s taken me this long to realize the only person my mother truly cares about is herself. Only now do I understand that my mother didn’t care who she hurt along the way, me included. Nothing and no one else mattered.”

  “I’m sorry, Mackensie.” It couldn’t have been easy growing up with a mother like that.

  “Looking back,” she continued, “I think it’s sad; I think she’s sad. I don’t ever remember a time my mother was ever genuinely happy.”

  I’d met women like Rowan’s ex who lived selfishly, seeking to find their happiness in material things and in shallow relationships. I felt sorry for Mackensie’s mother, and sad for Rowan’s daughter, who had been deprived of a father’s love for all these years.

  “Allie has been a good friend,” Mackensie went on to say. “She’s been instrumental in helping me come to terms with a lot of things. She might be younger than me, but she’s smart. Allie didn’t defend my dad or criticize me. She simply asked me what demanding a fancy car was all about, and I told her.”

  A smile crinkled the edges of Mackensie’s mouth. “You know what she did? She laughed. I mean, she laughed so loud it was embarrassing. When I wanted to know what was so funny, Allie explained that by refusing my demand, my father had proved his love in ways I didn’t realize. She pointed out that if I was looking for confirmation that he loved me, he’d given it to me.”

  She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I didn’t appreciate Allie laughing like that; it wasn’t until later that I thought about what she said, and it started to make sense. I’ve never had a friend like Allie before: She’s direct, honest, and fair. I know she truly cares for me as a person, not for the material things I own.”

  Mackensie focused her attention on me. “It would have been the easy way out for my dad to give me what I wanted. Others have. After what Allie said, I understood that it took far more love for my dad to tell me no. Buying me a car would’ve proved that I could manipulate him whenever I wanted, which was why he’d refused. She explained that my dad wanted to be more than a Santa Claus in my life. She was the one who urged me to go to him.”

  “You and your dad are working all this out?” This was why Allie had wanted me to talk to Mackensie.

  “You have a wonderful daughter, Ms. Boltz, and I have a good friend.”

  “Please, Mackensie, call me Jenna. All of Allie’s friends do,” I insisted. I had no idea my Allie could be so wise.

  “Allie and I have talked a lot, especially after my father and I met face-to-face for the first time. I have only a few memories of him as a little kid. These weren’t easy discussions with my dad, or with Allie, even. More than once I was ready to walk away and end our friendship.”

  So much had been going on behind the scenes that I knew nothing about.

  “Like I said, Allie told me her own dad had been an absentee father for nearly her entire life.” Mackensie shifted her attention to me now. “She said how lucky I was that I had a father who really loved me and who wanted a relationship with me, and that I was a fool if I turned my back on him for my own selfish reasons.”

  “Allie is right,” I reiterated. “Your father is loyal, generous, caring, and kind.” I could only hope she’d someday appreciate the man he was.

  “When she finally met with her dad,” Allie interjected, “Mackensie learned that her father had always wanted a relationship with her. Several times he flew to California for visitation, but he wasn’t allowed to see Mackensie.”

  “I learned that my dad spent thousands of dollars on attorney fees. I don’t know what my mother said or did that prevented him from seeing me. I could be angry and bitter at her, but what’s done is done.”

  “You’re all he has, Mackensie,” I said.

  “I know, but I hope that won’t be the case for long.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Mom,” Allie jumped in, “don’t be silly. She’s talking about you and Dr. Lancaster. He loves you, Mom. When you broke up with him, it devastated him.”

  I hadn’t exactly been singing songs and skipping through the park myself. This misunderstanding had been hard on me, too.

  “When did you finally get the courage to speak to your dad?” I asked Mackensie.

  “Soon after I unexpectedly bumped into him here.” She turned to look at Allie. “That night I got stupid drunk. I was lucky to have Allie there to keep me out of a bad situation. Once I sobered up, she had a come-to-Jesus meeting with me.”

  I smiled. That sounded like something Allie would do.

  “And I’ve talked with Mackensie’s dad, too,” Allie added.

  I’d seen Rowan and Allie with their heads together at my mother’s birthday party. “I know. I saw.”

  “And before then, too.”

  “Before?”

  “You were miserable, and don’t try to tell me you weren’t. Mackensie felt much better after the talks she had with her dad, so I decided to have a talk with him of my own.”

  I couldn’t believe my daughter’s audacity.

  “If you were going to give Dr. Lancaster the green light, then I wanted to make sure he was worthy of my mother.”

  “Was this another come-to-Jesus meeting?” I asked.

  “No. Dr. Lancaster already knows Jesus, so no introduction was needed,” Allie clarified, then continued, “I like this man, Mom. Of all the men you’ve dated over the years, Rowan’s the best. And better yet, he loves you. A lot. If you let him go, you’ll be sorry.”

  After all these recent revelations, I had no intention of letting this man go. The bond we shared seemed to be growing stronger and deeper each time we met. Almost from the beginning, I’d felt this draw to him, one I didn’t completely understand.

  “Maybe one day Allie and I can be stepsisters,” Mackensie piped in.

  They were getting ahead of themselves. One thing was for sure: I’d made a terrible mistake when I’d refused to hear Rowan’s side of the story. Now it was my turn to reach out to him. And seeing how instrumental Allie had been in patching things up between Mackensie and her father, I might do well to go to my own daughter for wise advice in the future.

  CHAPTER 33

  Maureen

  Tori and I met for a little shopping therapy. It’d been her suggestion, and I was more than willing to indulge in anything that took my mind off Logan.

  “I need to ask you something,” I said to my daughter, as she held up the cutest onesie that I’d ever seen. Baby clothes had surely changed since Tori had been born. So, so cute and clever. If I wasn’t careful I would be tempted to buy out the entire store.

  “Sure, Mom. What is it?” she asked, as she checked a price and added it to her cart.

  “Am I a prude?”

  Tor
i cocked her head at an angle. “Someone called you a prude?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Who?”

  “A…friend of Logan’s. Logan didn’t defend me, so I have to assume he agrees with his friend’s assessment.”

  Tori wheeled her cart closer to mine. “I knew something was troubling you. You tried to hide it, but I can tell. Let’s get tea at the Starbucks, and then I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

  I didn’t want to talk about Logan and me, especially in a crowded store, even if the Starbucks was tucked away in the corner. My concern wasn’t that someone would be able to listen in on our conversation but that I’d embarrass myself and tear up. I remained upset and angry, even though the incident had happened a week ago. Irritation, however, was the best defense I had, and I held on to my outrage with both hands in a death grip.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, dismissing her offer. “I’d rather not discuss it.”

  “It’s not fine,” Tori insisted. “Tell me what happened.”

  Somewhere between the baby aisle and Starbucks, I relayed the events of that horrible Friday afternoon, sparing none of the details, including my flashy Seahawks T-shirt. I’d been tempted to burn it, and would have if I wasn’t too frugal to waste the thirty-five dollars I’d spent on it.

  “To make it worse,” I concluded with the final details, “Logan hardly said a word in my defense. He suggested that I take the guys’ teasing with a grain of salt. It was more like a teaspoon of arsenic, if you ask me.”

  “Mom,” Tori said, looking serious, “I’m not around construction crews much, so I don’t know how they talk, but I do know that men can be insufferable, especially when it’s just them hanging out together and drinking beer. My guess is that Logan is mortified that you heard any part of that conversation.”

  “Well, I did.” My spine stiffened, thinking about what had been said. To his credit, Logan had made a pitiful effort to put a stop to it, but it had been too little too late.

  “And you told Logan you were finished because of what his friends said. Oh Mom, that must have been dreadful for you.”

  She set down her tea at one of the small tables outside the Starbucks stand before pulling out a chair and taking a seat. I reluctantly put my own tea down and sat beside her, as I could tell this wasn’t going to be a short conversation. I began to regret mentioning what had happened.

  “You never answered my question about me being a prude,” I said, before she got into how I’d mishandled the situation.

  Tori looked at me with all the wisdom of her years. “I’m not going to answer it, because whether or not you are a prude isn’t the point.”

  I suppose she was right, although it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I had told Jenna most of what had happened, and, being the good friend she is, she’d quickly sided with me. When I thought about it, I couldn’t count on Jenna to be totally objective with me—she was my dearest friend and would defend me to the end. My daughter was more likely to speak the truth.

  “You haven’t seen or heard from Logan since then?”

  “No.” Nor had I expected I would. When we’d parted I’d seen that stubborn glint in his eyes. He was standing firm on his pride, and, admittedly, so was I. If he was content to let others ridicule the woman he claimed to care for, then he wasn’t the one for me.

  “You satisfied with the outcome?” Tori asked.

  That wasn’t a question I was prepared to answer. “Satisfied?”

  “Is this what you want?” she asked, rephrasing the question. “Did you expect him to come back and apologize, to beg for your forgiveness? He did that once, didn’t he?”

  “I…” My tongue seemed to tie itself in a knot. “I don’t know what I expect anymore.”

  “Pride will take you only so far, Mom.”

  “It’s more than pride.” I hadn’t allowed myself to dwell on that heaviness I carried in my heart for all this time. From the beginning, I’d believed this relationship between Logan and me wouldn’t last. I had failed in all my relationships with men, and I couldn’t see that this one would be any different. All along I’d been waiting to be proven right and it’d finally happened.

  “It’s because of Dad, isn’t it?” Tori asked, her eyes dark with concern.

  “Your father?” What a ridiculous question. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Face it, Mom, you’re afraid of giving your heart away. A wonderful, intelligent, and caring man has finally been able to break through that brick wall you’ve erected around your structured life. Once Logan got close, you froze and had second thoughts.”

  I dismissed the statement quickly. “I don’t remember you taking psychology in college.”

  “I don’t need a psychology class to know my own mother.”

  “You’re wrong, Tori.”

  “You may not recognize it, but you’ve been looking for an excuse to break up with Logan almost from the first. Admit it.”

  “Wrong again.” I had no idea where Tori got these ideas.

  “I don’t think I am.” She shook her head like she was the adult and I was the child, as though she knew my inner thoughts better than I did.

  “I bought a thirty-five-dollar T-shirt for that man,” I reminded her in protest. “I was the one willing to bend, not him. He didn’t even pretend to enjoy the ballet.”

  “That’s because Logan chose to be honest and genuine with you. You’re faulting him for that?”

  Putting it in those terms made me sound hypocritical. “No.”

  Tori held up her hand. “I won’t say anything more. This is your life, and if you want to live alone, that’s your choice. But, Mom, I’ve seen the light in your eyes when you talk about him. That light isn’t there any longer, and it hurts me to stand by while you refuse to acknowledge what the real issue is.”

  My daughter had certainly given me something to think about.

  We finished up our bargain shopping, and with my mind spinning, I returned home after we said our good-byes. Jenna and I were meeting later to rework our Paris plans. I had a couple errands I needed to run before I headed her way, and I was on a tight schedule. I’ll admit it: I did like order. It was comfortable to me.

  However, as I unloaded the car, my head was caught up in my talk with Tori, and now I was restless. While I’d rejected her theory when we were talking, I had to accept that there was some truth to what she’d said.

  I’d forced myself not to think about Logan, to put him completely out of my mind since the blowup. It wasn’t easy, but I’d accepted that he was gone. Now, all at once, he was back in the forefront of my thoughts, front and center, and he wasn’t moving. I could no more follow the rest of my schedule today than fly to the moon.

  If I was thinking of Logan, and I was, it made me wonder what might be going through his mind. I’d probably never know.

  My head filled with questions. Was he still upset to the point that he wanted to wash his hands of me and move on? Did he miss visiting the library and seeing me? Did he still think of me?

  By now I was standing in the middle of my bedroom, with my shopping bags and their contents scattered across the top of my bed. The weight I’d felt in my heart sank lower and ended up in my stomach. It was as if I’d eaten something sour. I recognized that distasteful feeling for what it was: regret.

  Tori was right. Pride would carry me only so far. My pride appeared to have run its course, and now I was left to deal with the truth. And, more important, the reasons why.

  I covered my face with both hands and exhaled. I didn’t know what to do. If I were to ask Tori, I knew she would suggest I contact Logan so he and I could talk this out. A chill moved slowly down my back. The look in his eyes when he last spoke to me had been cold and unyielding. My hands trembled, and I reached out to grip the edge of my dresser, needing something to brace myself a
nd keep me from falling.

  For some reason, Logan’s daughter, Misty, came to my mind. The night we’d met when Logan had me over for dinner, Misty had given me her phone number. She was close to her dad. I could ask her the best way to approach Logan, or even if he’d accept my call.

  Before I lost my courage, I reached for my phone, found her contact number, took a deep breath, and touched the call symbol.

  The phone rang several times. My throat tightened, and just before the call went to voicemail I heard Misty’s voice.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Maureen.” My voice was small and came out sounding more like the squeak of a mouse than anything human. The independent, strong woman who’d been so sure of herself hours earlier had completely vanished.

  “I wondered if you’d call,” Misty said, as if she’d been waiting to hear from me all along.

  “I…I was hoping to talk to you about your dad,” I said, faltering because she seemed to know I’d connect with her first before reaching out to Logan.

  “What do you want to know about him?” she asked.

  “How is he?” My voice continued to quaver.

  “You mean health-wise?” she asked. “He’s doing great. Never better.”

  That told me everything I needed to know. “Oh…that’s good. Thanks for telling me.” Deeply discouraged, I was ready to disconnect until she spoke again.

  “However, if you were to ask me about his mental state, that’s a different story.”

  My heart leaped with anticipation.

  “You did a number on him.”

  “I…”

  “I shouldn’t even be talking to you. If Dad knew, he’d be furious.”

  “I…”

  “I don’t know what happened between you two. Whatever it is, I hope you intend to fix it, because Dad is miserable without you.”

  “Really?” It was probably wrong to be so happy to hear this.

  “My dad is one of the greatest men I know.”

  “I think so, too,” I said, grateful to get a chance to speak.

 

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