by Lori Wick
"I'd have to look back on my calendar, but I think it was about the same time." Mackenzie suddenly smiled. "I do remember the night you called me and told me you had met Jodi. I'd been writing that scene around the Eiffel Tower and had a hard time getting into our conversation."
"That was a great scene." Paxton was grinning as well.
"Thank you."
"How long do you think it will take to writeSeahorse?"
"I don't know. I had to doAccess Deniedafter work and on weekends. That's why it took more than two years, but I'm out of the Army now."
"I didn't know that."
"Yes, I have an apartment in Alexandria."
"So you could write full-time?"
"Yes, if I wanted to."
"Don't you want to?" Paxton asked so comically that both Tom and Mackenzie laughed.
It was the very note they needed. Tom gave Mackenzie a hug and ordered some food, Mackenzie used the bathroom and took a moment to compose herself, and Paxton went to the table to set out the contract for their meeting. He'd been in this business a long time, and he knew what the market was hungry for. Mackenzie Bishop, alias Mac Walker, was going to top the bestseller list in the first six months. Paxton Hancock was ready to bet his career on it.
Chicago
Wondering why someone had been in such a hurry to get something to her, Delancey opened the express mail package. Thinking it was probably expensive junk mail, she stared in
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disbelief as she saw airline tickets with her name on them and the small note attached.
Don't bother to call if you're coming, Deej. I'll meet flight 786 into Washington National at 8:09 if I don't hear from you.Just throw some things in a bag and please get on that plane. I'm dying to see you.
Love, Mic
Delancey quickly checked the dates and let out a shout that probably woke her neighbor's baby. She didn't care. The dates were perfect. Her flight went out on Friday night and came back on Monday, days when she had no classes. Delancey suspected that her sister had contacted the school and asked. And the flight was in just 28 hours. Delancey wondered how she would stand it.
Mackenzie was no better. The next evening she stood at her sister's gate and paced with excitement. She had sat by the phone from the moment she had sent the tickets, mentally begging Delancey not to call and refuse. Now the plane was landing, and it was just a matter of time.
Mackenzie's breath caught in her throat when she saw her sister, and moments later they were hugging. People rushed past them, but they never noticed. The sisters only knew they were together at last.
"Come over here." Mackenzie tried to speak. "Come by the wall."
Delancey kicked her bag in front of her with one foot and went back to hugging Mackenzie once they were off the main traffic path. She couldn't believe she was there. It seemed like forever since they had been together. Delancey loved no one as she did her sister. There was a bond between them that transcended explanation.
"Thank you for coming." Mackenzie wiped at her face.
"Thank you for the tickets. I could have bought them, but it never occurred to me to come for the weekend. Do you want me to pay you?"
"Of course I do, with interest."
Delancey looked at her. "I miss you, Mic."
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"I miss you too. It's funny how life never lets you go backward."
"What would you do differently?"
"Nothing. I would just understand that my childhood and my time with you and Mom were brief and needed to be savored."
Delancey nodded. "Have you talked to Jack at all?"
Mackenzie shook her head. "I can't. I don't hate him, D.J.- I hope he understands that-but I can't take the connection or his beliefs right now," she added softly.
"I called him on his birthday last week. He was glad to hear from me, but it felt strange, and we ended up with very little to say to each other. Shay and Oliver were taking him out for dinner, and I was glad of that." She sighed a little. "He doesn't have my phone number or address, so he can't really contact me. I couldn't let his birthday go by, but it was a relief to get off the phone."
"I got one more letter from him before I moved, but I haven't even been reading them for a long time."
"Pretty soon he'll get 'Return to sender'."
"Yeah," Mackenzie answered, then shook herself. "This is not the way I want to spend the weekend, Miss Bishop. I don't want to be sad. Come on, I can't wait to show you my apartment. It's not fancy, but I like it."
"When are you coming to see mine?"
"Soon. Tell me what it's like."
"It's not fancy at all, and sometimes I get tired of having just one room and so little space, but I wasn't willing to pay for more than a studio right now. And anyway, my neighbors are very nice. One just had a baby, who is an absolute doll."
"Boy or girl?"
"Girl. Adelaide Rose. Isn't that gorgeous?"
"Yes. I love it. How do you like not living at school?"
"It's wonderful. I can go to class and then head home to study in peace and quiet. I'm looking at computers. Right now I use the school's, but that's about the only drawback. As soon as I get one, I'll feel like I have it made."
"I love mine," Mackenzie told her.
"How's the writing coming?" Delancey asked.
Mackenzie smiled at her. "I'll tell you all about it when we get into the car."
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Delancey grinned. "Oh, this sounds good."
Delancey didn't know how good. Mackenzie knew the route by heart and was able to talk and drive without difficulty. She gave Delancey the whole story, from Tom's taking the manuscript to her meeting with Paxton the month before. Delancey was silent for just an instant, and then she couldn't stop screaming.
"Ican't believe you never told me!'
"It's not something I can talk about on the phone, Deej. It just isn't, and I don't want to write about it in letters either."
"I think I understand, but you could have at least told me you finished it!"
They were at the apartment now, but Delancey hadn't taken any time to look around. She faced her sister in the living room, not even noticing the new furniture.
"I'm sorry, D.J., really I am, but the move here and everything have been nuts."
"Well," Delancey softened suddenly, "I guess I have to forgive you because I just remembered that a children's magazine accepted some of my work and I forgot to tell you about that."
"That's great, Deej. I always knew your stuff was good."
The two women looked at each other.
"I didn't think we would ever lose touch like this," Mackenzie admitted.
"Me either. I don't like it, Mic. We've got to do a better job."
"Yeah, we do."
They hugged again, and Delancey finally noticed the furniture. She loved the dark blue sofa and chair, the oak tables and elegant lamps. She was still touching and admiring everything when she realized something.
"Did you get advance money forAccess Denied?'
Mackenzie nodded.
"A lot?"
Mackenzie nodded again, and Delancey started to smile. "Do you know what we're going to do tomorrow, Mic?"
"No, what?"
"We're going clothes shopping for you."
"Why?"
"Because ever since you joined the Army, your wardrobe has been sick."
"It has not!" Mackenzie hotly denied.
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"Yes, it has. You've been wearing that sweatshirt for ten years, and you can't even read the logo anymore."
Mackenzie opened her mouth to deny it, but Delancey had already headed into the bedroom. She ruthlessly went through Mackenzie's clothes, snobbishly declaring most of her sister's wardrobe a loss and not worrying about how insulting she sounded.
Mackenzie didn't say much, because if the truth be told, shopping was not her favorite sport. She had always admired her sister's taste in clothing, however, and now that she thought about it, Tom always lo
oked nice, and she always felt a bit grubby when they went out. With that in mind, Mackenzie didn't whimper as they headed for Union Station the next morning.
It didn't take long for Delancey to find Mackenzie's style, and when she did, there was no stopping her. Vogue fashions were all wrong for her, but the classics-A-line skirts, plaid blazers, bulky sweaters, jeans, oxford shirts, and slacks-hung on Mackenzie's frame in the most flattering way.
"Wait until Tom sees this."
Mackenzie waited until she'd said it twice and then spoke up.
"It's not really like that, Deej."
"Not like what?"
"You know, like that."
Delancey nodded. "So things aren't real intimate between you?"
"No. We do kiss, but we're friends right now more than anything else. Things got pretty hot one day, but he knows I don't love him, and I don't think he knows what he feels for me. When it was over, I was glad we didn't go very far."
"It sounds as though you did the right thing. I still think about what Mom said to us. She was from a different generation, so I really don't think that waiting for marriage is all that practical anymore, but waiting for true love makes a lot of sense to me."
"Yeah, it does, but right now I can't imagine either one for myself, and since I'm immersed in another book right now, I'm glad Tom and I aren't getting married or anything."
Delancey nodded. "Tell me about the book."
Explaining the plot forSeahorsetook the next hour and was discussed over a late lunch. Delancey was amazed at the story
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and a little in awe of the way her sister could work the plot in her mind. She didn't even make notes.
"Tell me, Mic," Delancey leaned close and asked, "how does it feel? How does it feel to know you're going to have a novel in the bookstores?"
"Right now it doesn't feel like anything since it's so far away. The release date is April, and that's if nothing messes up the schedule. But I will tell you what feels good: not having to go out and get a job. I've tried to make my apartment as homey as possible because I get up and go to work right there. I go for a run every once in a while, but other than going out with Tom or for grocery shopping, the apartment has become my world."
"And you don't feel as though you're going nuts?"
"No. I travel all over in the pages of the book, and I never get cabin fever or whatever you call it."
"Have you already got a contract forSeahorse?'
"No. Pax knows about it, but I want to get a little further along before I sign anything."
"Do you ever doubt if you can do it again?"
"All the time."
Delancey nodded. "I get tired of drawing sometimes, and when that happens, I think I'm losing my touch. But then I see something that gives me an idea and bounce right back."
"What are you working on now?"
Delancey beamed. "Well, I just mailed off the pieces thatRainy Daysrequested-that's the children's magazine-but now I have an idea for a regular feature. I'd like to do a one-page picture with hidden things in it. I don't want to put a story with it, just the picture and what to look for. I know some children's magazines run those every month, but most magazines don't. I'd even be willing to shrink the picture for the Sunday comics."
"How about a book of those?"
Delancey looked skeptical. "A lot of those are being done right now, but where I'm not seeing them is in periodicals."
"How about a Micah Bear search book?"
Delancey had not thought of that. "There would have to be a story."
"I could write it. I could write about the things he'd lost, and you could draw them into the picture. Or you draw out the pages, and I'll find the words."
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Delancey's dark blue eyes flamed with excitement, and she sat up very straight. "I think it might work."
Mackenzie smiled and suddenly lunch was ended. For fun they stopped by a bookstore and saw their Micah Bear books on the shelf, but then went right back to the apartment to call Tom Magy.
On Sunday morning Delancey poured coffee into Mackenzie's mug and went back to the oven and the English muffins she'd covered with cheese, tiny bits of onion, and some other spices that were a mystery to her sister.
"Maybe I should move to Chicago, and then you can cook for me full-time, Deej."
"I'm not sure I want the job. You're always missing some ingredient I need."
"Well, I can't tell that Any thing's missing this morning."
And indeed it was not. Delancey had made a breakfast casserole, one her mother used to bake, and a coffee cake, and was just taking the muffins from the oven. Hot coffee and orange juice finished the meal, and Mackenzie felt as though she were in heaven. It was nice to know she would have leftovers for a few days as well.
"So what shall we do today?" Mackenzie asked.
"I think be as lazy as possible, but do you know what? I've never met Tom Magy. He's done the books for us, so we've talked on the phone numerous times, but we've never met."
"Delancey!" Mackenzie was shocked. "I forgot all about that. Let's give him a call. He can give us lunch."
Tom was more than willing to meet with the women, delighted even. They set lunch for one o'clock, and Tom promised it would not be pizza. Delancey was a little nervous on the way over. She believed her sister about the relationship but also realized she could be meeting her future brother-in-law. She need not have worried. Tom made her feel at home and reiterated that he loved the idea of a Micah Bear search-and-find book. Within minutes they were laughing and talking like old friends. Indeed, the women stayed all afternoon, watched sports, and ate.
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"I like your sister," Tom told Mackenzie as she was getting ready to leave. "Some artists are weird, but she's just sweet and sensitive."
"Yes, she is. I hate it that she leaves tomorrow, but we've decided that I'm going to Chicago for Christmas, so I think I can survive her departure."
"Especially since you're not really with us these days. You're incoherent every time I call."
Mackenzie only laughed as he kissed her goodbye, but she didn't deny it. Delancey's plane left at 2:00, but the budding author didn't even wait until the next morning to start writing again. As soon as she got back to her apartment, she turned the computer on and worked until midnight.
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Thirty-Three
Delancey loved to sit next to the window on a plane. Mackenzie liked the aisle, but Delancey loved watching the sky and clouds by day and the lights on the ground by night. At the moment, however, her eyes were closed as she thought back and savored the time with her sister. How wonderful it had been. They hadn't caught up with each other like that in way too long. Some of the days in California at the end of May had been special, but the tension between Mackenzie and Jack had put a damper on everything. Marrell's face leapt into Delancey's mind without warning, and she felt tears coming on, so she kept her eyes closed, even when someone took the seat next to her and the plane taxied and lifted into the air.
It wasn't a long flight, less than two hours, but they would still offer a snack and something to drink. Delancey hoped she could talk the flight attendant into two bags of peanuts and tell him to keep the ginger ale coming. As much as she hated airline food, she didn't know why she never remembered to bring anything to eat.
The captain's announcement that they would be turning off the seat-belt sign finally brought her eyes open. She didn't remove her seat-belt, but she did put the tray table down and reach for her briefcase. A few moments later she had a page she had doodled earlier for the search-and-find book in front of her. The sketch was light, and with a pencil she darkened a few of the details and added a few more hidden drawings. The scene had a lush forest for the background with a clearing in the forefront. The places to hide keys, a watch, a pencil, coins, stamps, and any number of other tiny figures, were numerous. Delancey
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was working along steadily, dreaming of
the story Mackenzie would write to go with the art, when she felt eyes on her. She turned and looked at the person in the seat next to her.
"I'm sorry," the uniformed man said softly and sincerely. "I didn't mean to stare, but you do beautiful work."
"Thank you," Delancey said graciously when she saw his kind smile.
"Is it a hobby, or do you get paid to have that much fun?"
Delancey laughed. "I never thought of it that way, but I am published."
"Would I be familiar with your books?"
"Only if you read Micah Bear books to your children."
He shrugged his shoulders. "No children. Not yet anyhow. Are you published under your own name?"
"Yes. Actually, I'm the illustrator and my sister does the writing."
"I'm so impressed. I've never met an illustrator before. I'm Chet Dobson, by the way."
"Delancey Bishop."
"And that's the name on the front of your books?"
"They say 'Written by Mackenzie Bishop and illustrated by Delancey Bishop'."
"Those are beautiful names. Your mother and father must have known you were going to do something big someday."
Delancey smiled, but that particular subject was so painful that she didn't reply. It still hurt unbearably that her mother never saw the finished books.
Chet saw that he'd blundered. He would have loved to see her smile again but didn't know how to accomplish that. He was very pleased when she spoke to him.
"Is it me, or are you dressed to be flying this plane?"
"Yes, I am."
"Should I be a little worried then that you're in row 18?"
Chet laughed, and Delancey admired the even rows of white teeth that flashed out at her.
"No, I'm just going home."
"Chicago?"
"Yes. My shift ended in Washington, so I'm commuting."
"No first class?"
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"No," he smiled. "I'm usually on the flight deck, but if there are seats open, we can come out here."
"And sit in the middle?"
"Yes. Everyone likes the aisle and window."
"But you must like your job."
"I love it. It takes patience and a lot of flight time to get established, but once you arrive, it's nice."