“Rory,” Will said, tipping a head in her direction. “That’s all you. What’s the news on the street?”
Rory hummed, her gaze bouncing around as if looking for inspiration in the drab walls of the hospital. “Oh! Did y’all hear about how Earl found a dead squirrel under his bed, and he doesn’t know how it got there?”
Mac gasped, her eyes going wide, but she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth when everyone whipped their heads in her direction. She sat tucked into Hudson’s side, his arm over the back of her chair as he alternated playing mindlessly with her hair and rubbing the aching, tight muscles in her neck.
“What do you know?” Rory asked, eyes narrowed.
A single look at Gran—one of Edna’s best friends and her ride or die—had Mac rolling her lips between her teeth and biting back the information that was bubbling to spill out. Besides, all she had was circumstantial evidence and hearsay.
So Edna had explicitly told Mac she was going to do that. And, yeah, okay, she had an actual text with the woman confessing her plans to do so. So what?
“What do I know about a dead squirrel?” Mac waved her hand in front of her as if brushing aside the boring news. “Who cares? Earl’s dumber than a doorknob. The fool probably forgot he shot one in his backyard, and Macy hauled it in for him. Seems like every week, he has another story about something that dog’s dragged in.”
Gran lifted her eyebrows and dipped her chin in an impressed gesture. Look at Mac—earning back points in the eyes of her family through lies. She was just a winner all around, wasn’t she?
“Did y’all tell ’em about Ella?” Finn asked.
Will snapped her head toward her fiancé, her brows furrowed. “What about her? And why do you know about it and I don’t?”
“Relax, Willowtree.” He hooked an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to him to press a kiss against her head. “Nash just told us about it when we grabbed food for y’all.”
“What’d my little firecracker do now?” Momma asked, exhaustion seeping into her tone.
Rory’s eye roll said more than a thousand words, and she gestured to her boyfriend. “Go on… I know how much you love rehashin’ it.”
Nash’s grin split his face. “Ella punched little Tommy Boulger right in the nose. Popped him nice and good—made him bleed and everything.”
Mac had to bite back a laugh at the glee in Nash’s tone—a response that wouldn’t go unnoticed by the group, considering the rest of them. There was a chorus of reactions, ranging from gasps—Momma and Will—to hoots—Gran and Finn—to a low whistle and an impressed, “Damn, girl” from Nat.
Hudson chuckled low under his breath. Then in a voice meant only for her, he whispered in her ear, “She learn that from you?”
Mac elbowed him in the gut, her first true smile of the day coming out at his jolt and muttered, “Oof.”
“I don’t know why you get such a kick outta tellin’ this story,” Rory said.
“Um, maybe because she’s a little badass? She did exactly like I taught her and didn’t even blink.”
“Wait, this was your doin’?” Mac asked, pointing at Nash.
Rory had come a long way from the epitome of perfection she used to be, but Mac couldn’t imagine her sister had been happy to sit down with Tommy’s parents in the principal’s office. Especially considering Tommy Junior picked up his ways courtesy of good old dad. And to know Rory was doing so thanks to her boyfriend probably meant a tense night—or several nights—in their house.
“Yep,” he said, completely without remorse. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. She told me the little shit—pardon my French—” he tipped his head toward Momma and Gran “—wouldn’t leave her alone at recess. Even after she’d told him to stop. Even after she’d mentioned it to the teacher.” He sat back, his legs outstretched in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, looking like he’d just won the world’s biggest pissing contest. “So, you’re damn right I taught her how to throw a punch. I’d do it again without hesitation.”
“Still can’t believe you did that,” Rory mumbled.
“Gonna teach Ava too,” he said with a definitive nod. “We’re not gonna have any of this boys will be boys bullsh— ’scuse me, bullcrap in our house. Those girls are gonna know what to do if someone doesn’t heed the warnin’ when they say no.”
“You did the same thing for me, do you remember?” Nat turned to face him and tugged on his shirt sleeve. “When Jonah Loflin kept tryin’ to peek up my skirt in seventh grade?”
“Why don’t I remember that?” Momma asked, her brow furrowed.
“’Cause I never told you.” Nat shrugged in a way that said there was a whole lot of shit she kept from their momma, and it was best for everyone that she not venture down that path.
Her momma—no doubt well used to this sort of thing with her youngest child—simply exhaled a heavy sigh and shook her head.
“I’m not sorry about that either,” Nash said. “They both deserved to get some sense knocked into their brains.”
“You know one of them is a seven-year-old, right?” Rory said dryly, though there was no mistaking the fondness in her voice.
Nash shrugged. “I don’t care if he’s seven or sixty-seven—it’s never a bad time to remind a man how he should be treatin’ a lady.”
Conversation flowed around her, naturally transitioning into tales of when their daddy was young and had to be guided back onto the right path. By the end of the stories, they’d managed to find some laughter, but a few tears had fallen—though Mac had kept most of hers locked down tight.
Rory’s arms were flying as she entertained everyone with an animated story of Ella attempting to make pancakes—unsupervised—one morning, when Mac caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over in time to see Nash poking Nat in the leg, then lifting his chin to something down the corridor. Mac twisted around to find a tall, male figure striding toward them, and she turned back just as Nat stood without another word.
Her sister practically ran down the hall and straight into the man’s waiting arms. Asher, Mac realized, when she could make out his distinguishing features. His dark hair, longer on top, was unkempt—his jaw, too, the scruff on it about thirty-six hours past a five-o’clock shadow—as if he hadn’t had time to even glance in a mirror before he left.
Asher held Nat while she clung to him, her hands bunched into his coat as he leaned down so their cheeks were pressed together. He must’ve whispered something in her ear, because she nodded, and then he turned them down a side hallway and out of sight.
A gasp had Mac’s attention drawn to the nurses station where Patty—one of the nurses who’d been keeping them updated—sat, her mouth agape.
“Do you know who that was?” Patty said to the woman sitting next to her behind the nurses station. “That was Asher Mc—”
Mac stopped listening and rolled her eyes as she twisted back around. She hadn’t ever really gotten used to the whole Asher being semifamous—at least in their pocket of the South—thing. It was weird trying to reconcile the boy she’d known his whole life with how his fans saw him now.
“That your doin’?” Mac asked Nash with raised eyebrows.
He inclined his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That was real sweet of you,” Rory said and kissed him softly before muffled squealing in the direction of the nurses station snagged everyone’s attention again.
Rory huffed and pursed her lips as the nurses continued going on and on—Asher this and Asher that.
“They’re bein’ a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” she asked, her voice low. “It’s Asher for heaven’s sake, and they’re actin’ like he’s God’s gift to women.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, settling back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “Please…I used to change that boy’s diapers.”
A hush fell over everyone sitting around, and then Nash simply lifted an eyebrow in Rory’s direction.
Mac couldn’t hold in her laughter anymore—especially not when she could feel Hudson’s body vibrating next to her. Once she let loose her first peal of giggles, it was a domino effect in the waiting room, until everyone—even Rory—was cracking up, tears streaming down their faces thanks to something other than concern and fear.
“Y’all better not be laughin’ at my expense,” Nat said from over Mac’s shoulder.
Mac glanced back at her and swallowed down her first inclination to do something, because her sister’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, color high on her cheeks. But she had her arm linked in Asher’s, her hand clutching his forearm as if she were pulling all the strength she needed from his body right into hers.
And Mac knew calling Nat out wouldn’t help anyone—her sister needed to act like this was no big deal. Since Mac had been failing left and right, letting down the people she loved, she sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this. Giving her sister the veil of strength she obviously needed was something she could do.
Mac waved her off. “Nah, we’re laughin’ at Rory.”
“Oh. Well.” Nat’s lips twitched as she glanced at their eldest sister. “Carry on, then…”
That only made everyone laugh harder, and soon they were all trying to catch their breaths between guffaws.
The weight that’d settled in Mac’s stomach since the phone call this morning receded, and she hoped it was doing the same for everyone else. They’d needed that levity. Desperately. Even though—especially because—their daddy was still in surgery.
“Y’all are gonna have to quiet down.” A nurse—one Mac hadn’t seen before—stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at them. “This is the ICU waiting room, and y’all are carryin’ on like you’re at a honky-tonk. You’re disturbin’ others.”
Mac glanced around and noticed it was just their family, a lady wearing headphones while knitting up a storm, and an older gentleman in the back corner, his snores heard all the way across the room.
“Who, exactly, are we disturbin’?” Nat asked, pointedly looking around to the people sharing the space with them who very obviously didn’t give a shit.
The nurse sniffed and lifted her chin higher. “Others. Now, quiet down, or I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
Rory stood so fast, Nash had to reach back and steady her chair so it didn’t fall to the floor. “I beg your pardon, Miss—” Rory glanced down at the nurse’s ID card “—Beth, but we’re not goin’ anywhere until we know our daddy’s okay. Then and only then will we consider gettin’ out of your hair. And until that time comes, my family and I are gonna enjoy one another’s company as best we can while my father is in life-saving surgery!” Her voice rose with every word until she was nearly shouting.
She seemed to realize that and straightened, clearing her throat. Lifting her hand, she fluttered it toward the nurse in a shooing motion. “So, buh-bye. Run along now.”
Rory crossed her arms and glared at Beth until she finally relented with a huff and headed back to the nurses station.
A hush fell over their group until Nat spoke up, laughter in her voice. “Holy shit, I can’t believe that just happened. Who even are you?”
Will laughed. “I forgot you haven’t seen her in action since…”
“Since I lost my mind?” Rory asked dryly.
“No, sugar,” Gran said. “Since you finally grew a set of lady balls.”
Mac chuckled along with everyone else as Hudson leaned close, whispering in her ear, “Your gran is the best.”
The tickle of his breath sent shivers through her, and she turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes dropping to his lips. He traced tiny circles at the base of her neck with his thumb, reminding her of when he made that same motion on a very different body part. My God, how could she be so terrified and still want him this much?
“I don’t think I could love you more, Gran,” Asher said, his deep, rumbling voice snapping Mac out of her trance.
She whipped her head to him along with everyone else, as if they’d all just remembered he was there. His hand was in the pocket of his battered jeans, his old Rugrats T-shirt stretching across his chest. It was too short for him, the hem barely hitting the waistband of his jeans, and the screen print on the front was cracked and faded. She was pretty sure he used to wear that in his early high school years, and he’d grown a hell of a lot since then. He’d very obviously grabbed the closest pieces of clothing and jumped in his car without giving another thought to anything but being there with Nat.
“Yet you never come see me,” Gran said, admonishment in her tone. “And you haven’t even given me a hug.”
Without another word, Asher strode to her and swept her up into his arms, and then it was a hug-fest where everyone got their turn welcoming him home. As Mac watched her loved ones talk and laugh, the center of her chest tightened with longing.
She wanted that. Wanted desperately to be the person her friends and family called when they needed someone. Wanted, even, just to be a person someone thought of.
All her life, she’d been nothing more than an afterthought. She loved her sisters beyond measure, but they outshone her in all things. Because of that, she’d never truly been seen.
Except by Hudson.
But then he’d gone away without a backward glance, his duty to himself outshining anything they’d had.
And even Will—the person who was the other half of her heart—practically ignored her both times she’d fallen for Finn, as her world had begun to orbit around him. Mac knew Will hadn’t done it maliciously. It was simply because she didn’t need Mac anymore. Her sister had found, and then reconnected with, her person.
Nash was that for Rory. Asher, though platonically, was that for Nat. Who did Mac have? And who had her?
The thought made her stomach twist and her throat tighten. It made her want to shrink in her seat until she couldn’t be seen. Hide herself away like she’d been doing her whole life.
Because if she pulled away first, if she avoided and hid from the world, it wouldn’t hurt so badly when no one needed or noticed her.
But was it really hiding if no one saw you anyway?
Somewhere around late afternoon, Mac had lost track of time. She was exhausted, and she’d only been there for half a day. She couldn’t even imagine how tired the rest of her family must have been. They’d managed brief snippets of sleep between the commotion around them, the announcements over the speakers, and the well-meaning but near-constant phone calls from friends checking in, but it wasn’t enough and certainly wasn’t sustainable.
She sat, slumped against Hudson’s side, his arm draped over her shoulders as she rested her head on his chest. His phone was propped on his knee, turned toward her, and a comedy special streamed on the device.
She’d never have guessed what she’d needed was to watch an inappropriate and crass comedienne while in the ICU waiting room, and yet there she was. Though, to be fair, she’d had absolutely no idea what she’d needed since the moment they’d walked through the doors.
But Hudson had. All day, he’d been fulfilling her needs without her uttering a word—first with some much-needed coffee, then with the cookie he’d brought back with lunch. And then there were the baby llama videos and the bloopers from The Office and a video that was just five straight minutes of puppies playing.
Honestly, she sort of wished he’d cut it out, because he was only proving to her just how perfect he was and how well he got her.
Now, if only he’d choose her and stay…
“Mrs. Haven?” a voice called. A Black man wearing light blue scrubs stood in front of the doors that led to the ICU patient rooms.
“Yes?” Momma sprang to her feet, wringing her hands in front of her as she strode towa
rd the surgeon.
Mac jumped up, along with her sisters and gran, until they surrounded her mom. The six of them huddled together, their hands clasped as they waited for the news they’d been simultaneously hopeful for and dreading all day.
She eyed the surgeon critically. Since she hadn’t been there when her daddy had been brought in, she had no idea who’d been performing this life-saving surgery on him or their level of competency. And Mac had no idea how to gauge such a thing.
The doctor was short and stocky, standing only a few inches taller than her. He could’ve been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty-five, but she’d guess he was closer to the latter. His rich, brown skin showed only a few laugh lines, but he was bald and his short-trimmed beard was almost completely white. Kind eyes met hers behind his round, tortoiseshell glasses, and she felt herself relaxing. Surely he wouldn’t look at her like that if something had happened, right?
“Good news,” he said, and the entire room seemed to expand with a collective exhale. “The surgery went very well, though we did run into a few complications that held things up a bit. After we took Richard off bypass, the graft began leaking, so we had to go back on bypass to do further repairs.”
“But he’s okay now?” Momma asked, her brow furrowed with worry.
“Yes, ma’am. We got him all fixed up. We’ll need to watch him in the coming days to make sure he’s coughing and clearing out his lungs. Pneumonia is always a concern in bypass patients. But if he does what he’s supposed to—”
“Oh, he’ll do it, all right,” Gran said, her voice firm.
The surgeon shot her a grin. “Good, that’s what I’d hoped to hear. As long as he follows the instructions given and starts leading a healthier lifestyle, I don’t see any reason why he won’t make a full recovery.”
Thank God. Mac hadn’t allowed herself to really go down the path of the what-ifs, but they’d been in the back of her mind since she’d talked to Will that morning. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed to hear that her dad was okay until she’d gotten that confirmation.
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