Mack Daddy

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Mack Daddy Page 13

by Penelope Ward


  My mind was now backtracking through what he’d told me. “Wait. I was naked in the shower? I took off my clothes?”

  “You sort of had to, because you were covered in vomit. We both were. You needed my help. You couldn’t stand up straight. I was afraid you’d slip in the shower and crack your head open.”

  “You saw me naked?”

  Mack hesitated. “Yes.”

  Covering my face, I said, “Oh, my God. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Believe me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “This is not how I wanted your last day to be, both of us hungover.”

  “Yesterday was the best day I could’ve ever asked for. It was like a hot mess I’ll never forget.” His words seemed sincere.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Believe me, I don’t want to go. We overslept. Now, I only have like two hours before I have to leave for the airport.”

  I glanced over at the clock. “Shit. I wanted to make you breakfast, but I don’t think I can stomach the smell of food.”

  “I’m not that hungry anyway. I’ll grab something at Logan.” Mack’s eyes landed on my lower body. “You need to look at your tattoo. You still don’t even know what you got.”

  “I guess I should, huh?” I laughed, lifting myself off the bed as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.

  Mack followed me as I walked over to the oval, floor-length mirror in the corner of my room. He came up behind me and slowly lifted my T-shirt up to just above my belly button. His taking the initiative to partially undress me seemed like a brazen move. But it was certainly indicative of a shift in our relationship after last night.

  The closeness of his body sent shivers down my spine. For a moment, I felt self-conscious that he’d see me in my underwear, but then it hit me that he’d seen a lot more of me last night.

  Slowly ripping the bandage off, he said, “I hope you like it.” The touch of his fingertips grazing over my lower back caused me to close my eyes momentarily.

  I reluctantly turned my head around to look in the mirror. My mouth curved into a smile upon the sight of a beautiful blue flower about the size of a golf ball. It was better than anything I would have chosen for myself.

  “It’s beautiful. What kind of flower is that?”

  “It’s a lotus flower.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it. I just didn’t know what it was called. What made you pick this for me?”

  “Well, that book I was reading said the lotus is a flower that’s born from murky, slimy waters.”

  I raised my brows. “The slimy part reminded you of me?”

  “No. Basically, the flower is considered pure because of its ability to emerge from the dark waters in the morning perfectly unscathed. What reminded me of you is the fact that from this murky water a beautiful blossom was made. You used to tell me you felt like a part of you just came from a black hole because of your father. And I know you walk around every day feeling like a part of you is missing. But whether or not you realize it, you’re a light to those who know you—to me. Just like the lotus, you’ve risen above the darkness to become something beautiful—a beautiful human.”

  My eyes were starting to water. No one had ever said anything that poignant to me.

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” I wiped my eyes and asked, “What made you choose blue?”

  “Actually, funny you should ask. There are different colored lotus flowers. And I read about each one. When I came to the blue…well, it was very symbolic of my experiences with you.”

  “How so?”

  “The book said that the blue one also represents mind over matter, in particular, the spirit’s control over one’s physical senses or compulsions—which heightens one’s spirituality by overcoming bodily temptations.”

  Oh.

  We both knew exactly what he was getting at. He didn’t need to explain further. Yet, he did anyway.

  “The blue is my own personal badge of honor that I’ve basically stamped on you, Frankie.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve done everything I thought I was supposed to be doing when it comes to you. I’ve been fighting everything that feels natural for a very long time. So, there really is something to that mind over matter mantra. But what they don’t factor in is what happens when you lose your mind. I’m pretty sure I’ve just about lost mine. I’ve been trying to do the right thing, but it’s fucking hard. And I realized last night that I don’t want to go against what feels natural anymore.” He placed both of his hands around my cheeks. “What would you think about my coming back sooner than the end of the summer, but staying for good?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I have to work some stuff out with Torrie and with my father when I get home. That’s going to take time, but I don’t want to be away from you all summer. I don’t want to be away from you…ever, really.”

  Was this really happening?

  “I don’t want to be away from you, either.”

  “Things could’ve easily gotten out of hand last night. I’m pretty sure we would’ve fucked the shit out of each other if I’d let it happen. But I didn’t want it to go down that way—drunken sex. When I finally kiss you, Frankie, when I finally make love to you…I want you to be able to know that I’m fully yours with nothing holding us back. And I want you to feel and remember everything. You deserve nothing less.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck to embrace him. His heart was beating even faster than mine.

  “Your heart is beating so fast right now, Mack.”

  “Just believe what it’s telling you. Alright?”

  The days after Mack left were tough. His promising words and the sound of his heartbeat were fading away with each passing day as worry began to consume me.

  Left alone in the apartment, I spent my days waiting. Waiting for his calls. Waiting for him to show up at the door.

  He’d called me a couple of times from D.C., but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was really off in comparison to how we’d left things. The sullen tone of his voice whenever he would call, the brevity of our conversations, told me that something had changed. Something had happened in D.C.; I just didn’t know what. And honestly, I was afraid to ask.

  A surprise visit one Tuesday afternoon confirmed my suspicions were correct.

  I would never forget that day. Having just started taking up running to combat my nervous energy with Mack gone, I’d come in from a jog down Beacon Street when there was a knock at the door.

  When I opened, Mack was standing there carrying only a small bag and no suitcase.

  “Mack. What are you doing here?”

  When I hugged him, his body went rigid. His eyes were sunken in and tired. What happened to the charismatic, confident guy who’d left me with so much hope? He looked sadder than I’d ever seen him, like death warmed over.

  An overwhelming feeling of dread washed over me.

  Mack sat down and just shook his head without saying anything.

  My chest tightened.

  When he finally looked up at me, the hint of wetness forming in his eyes confirmed my worst fears.

  “I remember not wanting you to even touch me that day. You hugged me, and I couldn’t bear to let myself feel it. It was too fucking painful.”

  Frankie hadn’t moved from her spot by my bay window. Leaning against the ledge beneath it, she seemed lost in thought before she said, “I swear to God, Mack. That was the last thing I ever expected you to tell me when you walked in the door that day.”

  My chest constricted just thinking about it. “You and me both. I didn’t handle it well. I was still in such shock when I came to you. It was impossible to express how devastated I was. It seemed like a bad dream. I was just…numb.”

  “I remember. I’d never seen you like that.”

  “Torrie and I hadn’t had sex in about two months b
y the time I went back to D.C. that summer. I’d made up excuses the last couple of trips before that. It was pathetic, but there came a certain point when it felt wrong. I knew in my heart that I was going to end things with her because my feelings for you were too strong to contain anymore. I just hadn’t garnered the courage until the end of the semester came. By that time, I was more sure than ever of what I wanted.”

  “To be honest, I don’t even clearly remember what you said to me that day. As soon as the word pregnant came out of your mouth, everything else just seemed like a blur.”

  “When she told me she was three months along…it just seemed impossible, even though it technically wasn’t. She’d been on birth control, but I never should’ve trusted it.”

  “You don’t think she planned it, do you?”

  Shaking my head as I stared down at my rug, I said, “I honestly don’t know. I know she sensed me changing. She likely sensed I was going to end it. I don’t like to think that she would’ve done something like that on purpose, but honestly, Frankie, I’ll never know, because she’d never admit to it if she did.”

  “I hope she didn’t.” Frankie stared out blankly at some kids riding their bikes on my street before she asked, “I can’t even imagine what things were like for you during those months, Mack.”

  The fact that she was thinking about my feelings in that moment despite how much I’d hurt her really spoke to the type of person she was.

  After I’d told Frankie about the pregnancy on that fateful day, I returned to D.C. and sent for the rest of my stuff. I’d also transferred to American University’s graduate program soon after.

  “I was basically just existing. I wasn’t ready for a child. I wasn’t in love with Torrie. It felt like all of the happiness had been drained from my life. All I wanted was to be back in Boston with you. But I just didn’t see how that could’ve possibly worked. I knew my father would’ve made your life a living hell. In his eyes, my having an illegitimate child was bad enough, let alone abandoning the mother for another woman. His precious reputation would have been on the line, and Michael Morrison is not a good person, especially when his personal interests are being threatened. I didn’t want him anywhere near you. But even knowing all of that, I still constantly second-guessed my decision to leave you behind.”

  Frankie appeared deep in thought then said, “I wouldn’t have been able to be with you then. I wasn’t strong enough. I couldn’t have handled it. You made the right decision.”

  Hearing her say that meant more to me than she could have known.

  “I also worried you would never respect me if I did anything other than own up to my responsibilities, especially given what happened with your father. So, I felt like I only had one option and that was to let you go.”

  She finally moved from her spot at the window to the couch. She placed her head in her hands, but she wasn’t crying. She was processing. This conversation was eight years in the making and taking an emotional toll on us. But it needed to happen.

  “What exactly happened that last night we were together, when we got drunk? I mean, you told me some vague stuff, but what exactly did I say to you?”

  “You really want to know?” I laughed. “Let’s put it this way, if you said the same stuff to me right now, we wouldn’t be wasting time talking.”

  Her face pinked up. “Maybe I don’t want to know. We never kissed?”

  This was something I never told her.

  “When I was helping you get dressed after the shower, you put your hand around the back of my head and tried to kiss me. I turned away—not because I didn’t want to kiss you, because Lord knows I’d never wanted anything more than to taste you that night. I stopped it because I didn’t want our first kiss to be a drunk one that you wouldn’t remember. At that time, I was certain I’d have lots of opportunities to do it right. But I have to admit, if there was one thought that rang out in my head more than any other these past several years, it was that I wished I had taken that damn kiss when I had the chance.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “I lost all those years, only to end up in the same place, wanting you and wishing I hadn’t ever let you go. In retrospect, I often doubt my decision, actually. But I can’t control the past. All I can control is my life moving forward. I’m trying to take it back as much as possible while still being the kind of father Jonah needs. Having you here in my house is surreal. You’re still my Frankie in some ways, and in other ways you’ve changed. ”

  “In what ways do you see that I’ve changed?”

  “It’s not a bad thing. I’m not sure I even know how to explain it. I wanna say it’s like some of your quirkiness got swallowed up by a sophisticated maturity.”

  She laughed. “Believe me, the weirdness is still there. But you’re right. I’m a bit different than I was back then, more guarded, maybe. What happened with us actually had a huge impact on my life.”

  “I need you to tell me what happened after I went back to D.C.”

  Frankie looked sad as she reluctantly remembered. “I was depressed and lonely for a long time. But I was still a better person for having experienced our relationship. You always made me feel special, and you helped me come out of my shell. I don’t regret you, Mack. It’s important that you know that. If there was a choice between erasing it or experiencing it all over again, I would choose the latter.”

  That was a relief to hear.

  “I would never erase a second of it,” I said.

  “I don’t think I ever really got over losing you. But I learned to put it away somewhere inside me because I had no choice. I knew lamenting about what I’d lost with you—what never had a chance to be—wasn’t going to change anything. Don’t get me wrong, thoughts of you always crept in no matter how hard I tried, especially on holidays and each year when I knew your son would be a year older. I’d wonder how you were handling it all and sometimes, I’d feel guilty, too.”

  “You’d feel guilty? Why?”

  “Because first and foremost, I was your friend. Because I couldn’t handle my own feelings, I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I knew that the pregnancy blindsided you. I knew that you weren’t prepared. I knew that you needed support that you probably weren’t getting from your family. Yet, I still couldn’t be there for you, because I wasn’t strong enough to handle what that would’ve meant for me.”

  “I never considered that you would ever feel guilty.”

  “I did.”

  “The moment Jonah was born was the first time I’d really let everything out. I remember bursting into tears, and it was this odd mix of emotions. It was amazing that I could feel instant love for this being that I’d never met. Before he was born, I’d been afraid that I would never feel it. I was terrified of what it would do to him as he got older if he sensed I didn’t want him. So, knowing that the love came naturally was a relief. But I was also thinking of what I’d lost that day. Every moment, I was thinking of you, and I couldn’t help it. A part of me wanted to call you and tell you.”

  “I would’ve listened if you did.”

  I’d had it with the tense conversation.

  “Look, I think we’ve done enough talking for one night. It’s getting dark. You must be hungry.”

  “I could eat.”

  When she smiled, I returned it. The mood had officially lightened. Thank fuck.

  She followed me into the kitchen. “What are you gonna make me, Morrison?”

  I didn’t have to think too long about that one. “Spaghetti,” I said proudly.

  “Really?”

  “Yup. Spaghetti. I’d love to make some for you.”

  “Since when do you cook?”

  “Since I became responsible for nourishing another human being on weekends.”

  “I suppose that would warrant learning how to do it.”

  “Well, I learned to boil water, at least. And I can use a microwave. I can microwave a mean pile of bacon. Basically, if you can cook it by nuking
it, I can make it.”

  “That’s pretty sad but better than nothing.”

  “Well, I don’t have Frankie O’Hara to cook for me anymore. It’s a sad state of affairs in my kitchen.”

  “Torrie never cooked?”

  “She’s a better cook than I am, but that’s not saying much. It’s really not her thing, either. Her forte is working, not cooking. Jonah has had more than his share of takeout. So, I’m trying to change that.”

  “With spaghetti.”

  I nodded “With spaghetti.”

  “What kind of spaghetti do you make?”

  “There’s more than one kind?”

  “I mean, how do you serve it?”

  “With jarred sauce. Spaghetti a la Ragu.”

  Her laughter echoed throughout the kitchen. “How about this? We’ll cook it together. You can boil the water, and I’ll make the sauce from scratch.”

  “That sounds amazing, but I don’t know that I would have the ingredients you need for your fancy sauce.”

  “You must have a grocery store nearby, right?”

  We ended up taking a quick trip to the supermarket down the road. As we frolicked through the aisles with our cart, people must have assumed we were a married couple. In the midst of what most would consider a mundane task, I felt blessed to be spending time at the market with her. It was easy to imagine what a life with her would be like. People take so many things for granted, like sleeping next to the warm body of the person they love at night. For a few moments at the grocery store, I pretended that she was mine.

  Back home, we were unloading the items when Frankie said, “Shit. The most important thing is missing.”

  Her words were ironic. That sort of felt like my life in general right now.

  The most important thing was missing.

  “What is it? “

  “We forgot fresh garlic. I wasn’t even thinking about it, since it’s something I always have on hand.”

  “I bet Mrs. M. has some. She’s always cooking.” Taking out my phone, I said, “Let me call her.”

 

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