by Nella Tyler
“Let’s get back out there before my mom starts rounding people up for the stupid party games then,” I said. “You know she’s going to make absolutely everyone participate.”
“I already put my resolution in the fish bowl,” Noah told me. He leered, leaning in closer. “Do you want to know what it is?”
“That would be cheating,” I said, trying to keep my voice light in spite of how uncomfortable I’d started to feel.
“Just between you and me. Besides, it’s only one…my New Year’s resolution is to get back into your bed.”
“You didn’t seriously put that in there, did you?” I felt my cheeks burning at the thought of someone reading that out, of everyone trying to guess who had written it, and how Patrick would feel when he knew that my ex-boyfriend had “resolved” to sleep with me again.
“Nah—nah, I’m just kidding,” he said, wagging his finger in my face. “But I had you there for a minute, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I admitted.
“I should’ve put that in. It’s totally true. I do want to be back with you, Mack.”
“That ship sailed a long time ago,” I told Noah. “And the way you’re acting right now doesn’t really make me want to try and bring it back.”
“Your new guy got you flowers, big deal,” Noah said. He pointed at the corsage pinned to my dress, rolling his eyes. “Do you still have that necklace I got you when we were going together?”
I shook my head. “No,” I told him. “I took it to a pawn shop and got all of twenty bucks for it.” It wasn’t entirely true; I’d taken it to a thrift store and donated it, hoping that someone who wanted a nice piece of jewelry would enjoy it since they didn’t have any memories like mine attached to it.
“That’s cold, Mack.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? You burned the bridge, Noah. I just managed to get to the other side.” I shook my head again. “I’m going back to the party before my date thinks I’ve abandoned him.”
Chapter Eight - Patrick
I had started to actually worry about Mackenzie as I spent more and more time talking to first her sister Evie and then her brothers, Alex and John; while none of them gave me the third degree quite like Mack’s parents had, it was obvious that they were curious about the guy dating their sister. They asked me about Landon as soon as they confirmed that I’d met Mackenzie through my son being one of her patients; they all agreed that Mack had always been good with kids—and John even went as far as to say that they’d all always thought it was a shame that Mack didn’t have any kids of her own.
Mackenzie’s mom announced that it was time for the annual “awards”—and handed out ballots; I took two, and looked around for Mack once more. She appeared almost out of nowhere—I definitely didn’t see her approaching before I saw her—and smiled up at me. “I was starting to worry that someone had stolen you away,” I told her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss. “I grabbed you a ballot for the awards.”
“Oh god, this is going to be humiliating,” Mack said, grinning and shaking her head as she took my extra ballot and one of the pens.
“I know we have some new people with us tonight,” Katherine was saying, talking into the DJ’s microphone. “So here’s the deal: I’ll announce each of the categories, and you can write in the name of anyone at the party for that award. David will take up your ballots, and we’ll tally up the votes—and then announce them after midnight.”
“I’ll tell you who to put in for some of them,” Mack told me, grinning wryly. “Please—whatever you do: do not write me in for most likely to get knocked up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I told her, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“All right! Here we go. First category: Most Likely to Go to Jail!” I glanced at Mack; she was scribbling something on her ballot.
“Put in John for that one,” she muttered to me, grinning.
“Oh? He’s like that is he?”
“The fact that he’s never been to jail is evidence of the existence of luck,” Mack explained. I wrote in her brother’s name for that one.
Everyone got into the activity as Mackenzie’s mom announced each of the categories: Most Likely to Get Knocked Up, Most Likely to Get a Raise, Most Improved Life, until I wondered if Mack’s parents had come up with a category for each person at the party. Mack and I joked while we filled out our ballots; she explained why it was funny for me to put down who she told me to put down, and I did nominate her for one of the awards without telling her: Prettiest Member of the Family.
We turned our ballots in and the DJ started up again. I’d been looking for Mack ever since she’d disappeared in part because however much her parents had made things awkward for me, they had definitely managed to find one of the better DJs in the city—he wove together David Bowie, Notorious B.I.G., Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, B52s, and more without missing a beat, and I’d been wanting to dance with her all night. When the DJ started playing The Strokes, I turned to Mack.
“Dance with me?”
“Absolutely,” she said, looking more joyful than I had seen her appear almost all night since we’d walked into the house. We moved onto the crowded “dance floor” that her parents had put up in the big living room and started moving together to the beat. It had been ages since I’d danced with anyone; I felt a little stiff at first, but then as I realized that nobody in the room was going to be winning the trophy in a dance competition anytime soon, I started to loosen up, especially as Mack swayed her hips closer and closer to me, barely brushing up against the crotch of my pants and shimmying her chest so that she almost touched me.
The DJ went from The Strokes to Tupac, and Mack and I kept going, twisting and moving together; it was like there was no one else in the whole world except for the two of us. I forgot that her ex-boyfriend had even existed—all I cared about was the fact that Mack was there with me, and that I would hopefully go home with her after the party was over, making good on the kiss I’d get at midnight.
We got a breather after that when her dad interrupted the flow to remind everyone to put in their resolutions; Mack steered me towards the table where the big bowl stood, and we both wrote our resolutions down. For myself, I resolved to give my son more of the love and attention he needed—I figured that was as close as I could come to saying I wanted to make Mackenzie a more permanent part of my life without opening her up to embarrassment from family and friends. I didn’t know what Mackenzie resolved to do in the New Year; we kept our resolutions secret from each other.
We went back out onto the dance floor after that and started moving together again. The bass pulsed through us and we were dancing closer and closer together, barely keeping things family-appropriate. “God, I wish we could sneak off to your room,” I murmured in Mack’s ear. She giggled, pressing her cheek to mine, brushing her breasts against my chest as she moved and swayed.
“Everyone would notice if we did,” she said, with real regret in her voice.
“Only thing keeping me from it,” I told her. I managed to hold back when I gave her a quick kiss on the lips—but barely. We were both drenched in sweat, and I think that Mackenzie was just as grateful as I was when the DJ switched to a downbeat Yeah Yeah Yeahs song.
As it got closer and closer to midnight, I started looking forward more and more to midnight. I would kiss Mack, we would call Landon, and after sitting through the “awards” I would go home with her just as soon as I could, to spend as much time as humanly possible making love into the New Year. “You know,” I murmured in her ear as we slow-danced together to “Heroes,” “if we could get some caffeine in us on the way home, we could keep going until dawn—ring in the New Year together with as many orgasms as we possibly can.” She giggled, shifting closer to me and tightening her arms around my shoulders.
“That sounds good—what time do you need to get Landon in the morning?”
“Probably the afternoon,” I told her. “It’ll be as late as possible.”
“New Year’s Day brunch?”
“That sounds good: make love until dawn, sleep for a few hours, pick my boy up from his grandparents’ house and get a big stack of pancakes.”
We kept dancing together, taking a few breaks to snag some of the food hanging around on tables all over the common areas of the house. We talked to Mackenzie’s siblings, and the family friends who had known her since she had been a child, and I realized that everyone was trying as much as they could to make me feel like a part of the group; apart from her parents, no one made me feel too much pressure, and I appreciated that. Whenever someone got too pointed with their comments, Mack and I just went back out onto the dance floor to avoid them, and she told me choice gossip about whoever it was until we almost had to stop dancing from laughing so hard. I couldn’t wait to be alone with her, but while we were obligated to be at the party, I was at least glad that the food and drinks were good, that the music was great, and that the atmosphere was relaxed.
“Have you seen Noah lately?” Mackenzie stepped back to look up into my face, frowning in concern.
“I don’t think I have,” I admitted. “Why?”
“No particular reason,” Mackenzie said, though she still looked worried. “I’m just a little concerned…he was starting to get pretty drunk the last time I saw him, and he’s a hot mess when that happens.”
The DJ announced that he was taking a break and let the system continue onto the next song, and I forgot about Mackenzie’s ex once more, happy just to dance with her and be close to her. I was moving in to kiss her again when a loud thump broke through the song playing on the system. “How’s everybody doing tonight?” Mack stiffened in my arms and pulled back, looking over her shoulder. I turned to look in the same direction and saw Noah standing in the DJ booth, microphone in hand. “Dwayne and me go way back,” he said, his words slurring a little bit. “So he said I could take over while he gets a smoke break before the ball drop.”
“Oh god,” Mackenzie said, burying her face against my chest. “He’s going to be a total ass.”
“So since I’m in charge for the next ten minutes, I thought I’d pull up a real blast from the past—how does that sound?” Some of the others on the dance floor cheered, and Noah looked supremely pleased with himself. “All right then! Y’all might know that Mack and I used to be together. This is the first song we were listening to when I took her cherry.” Mackenzie gasped and pulled away from me, her face going white.
I heard Li’l Jon, “Get Low” start to play and Mackenzie went even paler, and then her face went red from the roots of her hair to the collar of her dress, and I saw the tears starting in her eyes.
“Patrick…” I shook my head.
“He’s drunk,” I told her.
“No—you have to listen to me. I never—this—he’s…” I knew that in a moment she’d dissolve into tears; my heart ached for the embarrassment I knew she was going through.
“He’s being an asshole because you aren’t going to be going home with him,” I told her. “I know you, Mack. I know how you feel about me.” I smiled into her eyes.
“I’m so humiliated,” she said, shaking her head again.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I hugged her quickly.
“Yeah, I think I do,” she said. I grabbed her hand and led her off of the dance floor and into the kitchen, closing the door behind us.
“He’s being an asshole, and everyone knows it,” I told her. “I’m sure no one believes that you actually lost your virginity to that song.” Mackenzie smiled slightly, starting to regain her composure.
“I guess.”
I hugged her tightly. “I just wish my mom had never invited him.”
“Well, with any luck, they’re kicking him out and putting him in a cab right now after that bullshit,” I suggested.
“I hope so,” she said. I kissed her and hugged her and for a while we just hung out in the kitchen, away from the chaos in the living room and any further embarrassment at the hands of her ex.
Chapter Nine - Mackenzie
I had known that Noah was getting drunk when I’d left him in the kitchen to go back to Patrick; but I’d been having such a good time that I had totally forgotten he was even at the party. I saw him a few times while Patrick and I were dancing, but I didn’t even care—even when I realized he was only getting drunker.
It shouldn’t have shocked me at all that Noah would pull something like what he had.
“It was actually part of why he and I broke up,” I explained to Patrick while we sat in the kitchen, sipping some of the non-alcoholic punch Mom and Dad had put out to help everyone pace themselves through the night. “At first I thought he was great—confident, and he could party all night and keep going the next day. I guess when I was in college it seemed great.”
“I’ve known some people like that,” Patrick told me. “It gets old after a while.”
“It does,” I agreed. “He was charming enough for a while to where I kind of forgot how bad he gets when he drinks—or gets high, or whatever else—when he would sober up for a bit.” I pressed my lips together, shaking my head. “He’s never been abusive, I guess, but he just got worse and worse, and more and more out of control, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“It’s a real statement of how strong you are that you walked away at all,” Patrick told me, giving my hand a squeeze. “I can’t judge you for having fallen in love with someone who turned out badly.” He grinned. “That’d be the pot calling the kettle black. Before I met Joanne I dated this girl for—maybe a year and a half?” Patrick rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She was probably the person that inspired the phrase hot mess.”
“Oh god, this sounds good,” I said, starting to relax a little bit.
“She was a hard partier, like you were saying about Noah,” Patrick told me. He shook his head, grinning sheepishly. “I have to admit that at the time some of the things she was into—in the bedroom, you know? They were pretty thrilling and extreme.”
“Careful,” I said, smiling in spite of myself. “I might start thinking I need to buy you a whip to use on me if I want to keep you.”
“That seems like something to talk about maybe a year from now,” Patrick said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m still so out of practice with regular sex that I can’t even imagine trying anything more extreme.”
I giggled. “Go on,” I told him.
“She got into drugs; at first it was sort of experimental for her—wanting to see what her limit was, stuff like that.” He shrugged. “Then she started doing more and more, and harder stuff—coke, speed…I think once or twice she tried heroin even.” He shook his head and shuddered. “I stayed with her as long as I did because she insisted that I was the only thing holding her together.”
I nodded; Noah had said much the same to me when we’d been dating, when things had just been starting to go bad. “Seems like it’s part of the playbook.”
“Definitely,” Patrick agreed. “Anyway, it kept getting worse and worse, and I just couldn’t make myself stay with her anymore. It was like someone drowning; if you let them pull you over, it’s just going to be two people drowning instead of one.”
“I can totally get you there,” I said, nodding again. I felt a little bit better about what had happened with Noah, knowing that I wasn’t the only one—and not even the only one in the relationship—who had a few skeletons in my closet. “And then you met Joanne after?”
“I did,” Patrick said, smiling slightly. “You already know how that was, though. And all of that’s in my past—just like Noah’s in your past.” He squeezed my hand. “Want to head back out into the party? It’s got to be getting close to midnight.” I took a deep breath and nodded; I was as ready to confront everyone who’d seen Noah’s crazy display as I would ever be, and knowing that Patrick was confident in me made it that much easier.
We went back into the living room, and wherever Noah was, he wasn’t in the DJ booth anymore. I sp
otted Evie dancing with her husband and gave her a wave. She shimmied over to where Patrick and I were hanging out at the edge of the dance floor. “Noah just left in an Uber,” she told me. “Dad insisted.”
“I like Dad a lot more than I like Mom right now,” I admitted to her. Evie laughed and patted Patrick on the back, and we all went back to dancing.
We had just enough time to dance through one more song before the DJ announced that it was one minute to midnight.
“Still want to give me that New Year’s kiss?” Patrick whispered in my ear.
I grinned up him in answer to his question.
“More than I have all night,” I told him. My parents pulled up the scene in Times Square on the big flat screen TV mounted on the wall, and everyone watched the countdown beginning. The DJ cut the music out and as he started to take up the countdown, I felt myself tingling all over.
“Ten...nine…eight…seven…”
I looked up at Patrick, getting more and more excited. This would be the first year in ages that I actually had someone to kiss at midnight; and even better—I knew that Patrick cared about me, that he wanted to be with me. I wasn’t just a pity date for him.
“Four...three…two…one! Happy New Year everybody!”
I didn’t even quite hear the DJ calling out “Happy New Year,” because as soon as he reached one, Patrick swung me into his arms and brought his lips down on mine. I could hear the cheering, but it was no louder than the roar of blood in my ears as Patrick and I kissed for what felt like a second and an hour at the same time. I melted against him, so happy, so completely overjoyed for the first time all night, and I didn’t want to pull away ever.
Finally, though, both Patrick and I ran out of oxygen. He broke away from me and we both grinned at each other, catching our breath.
“Time to call Landon?”
I frowned in confusion and then remembered. “Let’s do it,” I said, taking his hand in mine and leading him back towards the kitchen. Patrick slipped his phone out of his pocket and opened up his contacts list. I watched him dial out, smiling.