by Tiffany King
twenty-eight
Mac
A horn blasted behind me, jerking back my attention. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw that my tears were flowing again. The pissed-off middle-aged man I was holding up looked like he was about to blow a fuse, so I rolled through the stop sign. I now knew where I needed to go. It was so long past due, and yet, something in me told me I could handle it. Swiping the rest of my tears away, I steered my car toward my own familiar neighborhood.
Because of the daytime traffic, I didn’t reach my destination until almost an hour later. Pulling into the driveway, I spotted two bikes left carelessly on the front lawn along with a basketball and baseball bat. Smiling for the first time that day, I climbed from my car and made my way to the red front door.
Tracey and I had always loved her front door. Ever since we were kids, we had claimed it was magical. I didn’t know whether I should ring the bell or knock. There had been a time that neither of those options would have been a consideration. I would have just opened it and strolled in like I belonged there.
I lightly rapped on the door with my knuckles. I could hear laughter and yelling beyond the door, and after a minute passed, I knew my attempt hadn’t been heard. I rang the doorbell and waited. I could hear a familiar voice yelling for someone to get the door. My stomach cringed from nerves. The door was pulled open abruptly, startling me to take a half step backward.
“Mackenzie!” two excited voices greeted me before I was wrapped in a bear hug by two preteen boys, who looked much older than I remembered.
“Braxton and Nicholas,” I returned, hugging the twins as my cane fell to the ground. “Look at you two. You’re almost as tall as me,” I mused, getting a good look at Tracey’s brothers, who had turned into handsome young men in the last year and a half.
“Who are you kidding? I think we have you beat,” Braxton said, puffing out his chest and standing tall.
“Is this yours?” Nicholas asked, picking up my cane.
“Yeah.”
“It’s u-g-l-y, ugly,” Nicholas declared, turning my cane around in his hands. “I mean, it wouldn’t make a bad sword,” he added, brandishing it at his brother like a pirate. “But it’s too ugly for a girl.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, smiling. I’d forgotten how honest they could be. Glancing down at my cane, I looked at it from their new perspective and saw they were right. It was the one my doctor had issued after I was finally able to dump my crutches for good. At the time, the only thing I’d been able to focus on was that my doctors were telling me I would most likely need my cane for the rest of my life. “You’re right. It is pretty ugly,” I said, watching as they fought over who got to hold it.
“Boys, what are you doing?” Patricia asked, walking into the living room where the twins were play-fighting with my cane and an umbrella Braxton had snagged by the door. Patricia’s eyes widened with surprise when she saw me. “Mac? Oh my God,” she gasped, pulling me in for a crushing hug. The fact that she knew to call me Mac surprised me. My arms wrapped around her as my old life came back into focus. I couldn’t believe I had ignored the people who had meant so much to me. Just because Kat and Zach had turned their backs on everyone didn’t mean I had to.
“I missed you,” I whispered as she tightened her hold on me. Patricia may not have been my biological mom, but in many ways she’d been a surrogate mother. I definitely would have called her a friend. She had been the voice of reason anytime Mom and I would butt heads.
“I missed you, too, sweetie. I’ve been waiting for you to come see me.” She led us into the living room and sat down. Glancing around, I saw that the room hadn’t changed. Every picture I remembered still hung on the walls, chronicling not only their lives, but mine also. My eyes found each and every one that Tracey and I were in together. I remembered each of those moments fondly.
Turning back to Patricia, I addressed her statement. “I know. I just miss her so much, and I thought it would be too hard. Not for just me, but all of us. I was wrong.” I said the words with finality as they took root.
“We’re family. There’s always going to be reminders, but they don’t always have to be painful.” She clasped my hands in hers. “I was afraid you were staying away because you were angry at Tracey.”
I looked at her with shock. “Why would you think that?”
“For taking someone who belonged to you. For betraying a friendship,” she said, looking pointedly for my reaction.
“You knew about her and Zach.”
“I did. I wasn’t sure you knew until Janet mentioned it last year. Zach said something to her about you knowing. Tracey didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I nodded. “I know. I just wish she would have told me. We were best friends.”
“I know, sweetie. She was going to tell you. She wanted to get graduation over with first. It was eating her up inside. I can tell you she fought her feelings for a long time because she was afraid of hurting you.”
Hearing that made me feel terrible for Tracey. I could only imagine how hard everything had been for her. She’d always been the most sensitive one of our group. In the end, it had been my selfishness that had cost Tracey her life. “It’s my fault she’s gone,” I confessed to Patricia, feeling the weight of the burden I’d been carrying. I waited for her reaction, expecting her to jerk her hands away in disgust.
“Mac, why would you say that? It was a tragic accident, but it was not your fault. How could you think that? Is that why you haven’t visited before now?”
My eyes filled with tears. She had no idea. It was my fault. She just didn’t know. In a rush, I told her every reason why she was wrong. Why it was my fault her daughter was dead. I told her how I had hesitated getting into the Suburban that night. How that hesitation had put us in the truck’s path.
“Mac, some things in life are out of our control,” she said, trying to make me feel better. I shrugged. She may be right, but it didn’t change my other decision that had cost Tracey.
“But if I would have given my seat to Tracey . . . Forget that. I should have given my seat to her. If I would have done that rather than thinking of myself, she would still be here. That night I’d realized the seat no longer belonged to me. I should have insisted she take it. Who cared what the others thought?”
I was blinded by my tears, which were falling so fast I couldn’t stop them. It was good that I had gotten my confession out of the way, because I could barely talk after that. My fingers dug into my legs as I tried to regain control. It wasn’t my intention to fall apart. She reached over and covered my hands to settle me. “Honey, if you would have traded seats with her, you wouldn’t be here,” she said softly.
“I know,” I sobbed. “Isn’t that what you want? You’d have your daughter back.”
“Sweetie, I miss my daughter every single day, and probably will until the day I die, but I could never pick her life over yours like that. Do you think Tracey would have wanted that?”
I shook my head, already knowing the answer. Tracey would have never wanted that. It was an impossible situation with someone losing, no matter which way it went. She would have hated knowing I blamed myself. I’d made so many mistakes over the last year. I was still making them. The hurt look on Bentley’s face came to mind. I’d given him a chance. Allowed us to become close and then put him in a box to ensure I would never be hurt. In the end, I’d done us both a disservice.
Patricia and I talked for a long time after that. She wanted to know everything going on in my life. She had already gotten many of the details from talking to my mom. I told her about my visit with Zach the previous month and all my unanswered e-mails to Kat. Eventually, the conversation turned to Bentley, and that was when everything poured out of me in a rush. I told her things I couldn’t tell Mom. Like she’d always done, Patricia provided the insight of a friend. When I finally stood up to leave, I felt infinitely better knowing what I needed to do. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, I promised I would visit again.
“Um, thanks, guys,” I said, taking it from them.
“Looks much better, right?” Braxton asked, beaming at me.
“Much,” I said, sending an indulgent smile Patricia’s way.
With one last hug for the three of them, I left with Patricia trying to explain why it had been wrong to decorate my cane without asking. As I walked to my car, my steps felt lighter. My whole life felt lighter. I shouldn’t have waited so long to face this demon. Perhaps if I had come to see Patricia sooner, I could have saved us all a lot of heartache. Now I just needed to right my wrong with Bentley. I could only hope I wasn’t too late. I wouldn’t blame him if he told me to go to hell. A person could only stomach so much of the type of drama queen I’d been when he and I had met.
I ran several scenarios through my head about how to get Bentley to listen to me as I drove back to his apartment complex. I felt I had an ace in the hole if he’d only give me the opportunity to explain.
I was disappointed to see that Bentley’s car was not in its usual spot when I turned into the parking lot of his building. In all my different scenarios, I hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t be here. I had myself so worked up, I felt like I needed to see him now or I would burst. There were several places he could have gone, aside from simply running to the store or going out for something to eat. He could be at his parents’ house, but how desperate would I look if I suddenly showed up at their door? I could call Chad to see if he’d heard from Bentley, but that was unlikely since he wasn’t back in town yet. The obvious thing for me to do would be to bite the bullet and call him. That was the least appealing option. I wanted to talk to him in person to explain things. Hell, beg him if I had to.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I didn’t notice someone standing at the driver’s side of my car until I heard a tap on the window. “Holy shit!” I yelped. If I hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, I might have jumped through the roof of the car like I was sitting on an ejector seat. “Bentley,” I gasped, climbing from the car when he opened my door. I grabbed my cane as I stood. Bentley’s eyes flickered to it instantly, but he didn’t comment. There would be a story there if we could get through my apology first.
“What are you doing here, Mac?”
My heart dropped like a stone in a pool, but I had expected some resistance. “I wanted to talk to you,” I stammered, trying to poise myself and remember all the things I had thought to say during my drive over. Usually Bentley was the talker. He would have rescued me in this situation and changed the subject by launching into some story. I didn’t have that life preserver now. He stood like a statue, waiting in silence for some kind of explanation.
“So, talk,” he said when I had done nothing but stare at him like a child.
“Can we go up to your apartment?” I was afraid he’d shoot me down, but I didn’t want to do this in a parking lot.
He nodded, heading for the steps without worrying whether I was keeping up. Not that I didn’t try, but my leg would only allow me to go so fast. My limp became more pronounced the closer we got to the steps. I didn’t care if it took me three years to climb them. What I needed to say would be worth it.
Climbing the stairs became a nonissue when Bentley swept me up in his arms. I couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad sign. His face gave no indication either way. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even look at me. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to carry me, but he seemed dead set on ignoring me as he scaled the steps quickly. I enjoyed the way his arms felt around me. If this was the last time he would hold me, I didn’t want it to end.
We reached the second floor all too soon, and he didn’t hesitate to deposit me down as soon as we reached the landing. Following behind him, I bit my lip, wondering if he would listen to what I had to say. I imagined he wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of carrying me up here if he didn’t at least plan on letting me explain.
He had his front door unlocked and pushed open by the time I caught up. He waited, letting me enter first. The apartment looked like it had when I left earlier. His coffee mug still sat on the table half full and the TV played in the background. I wondered where he’d gone that he didn’t bother to turn anything off.
As I stood in the middle of his living room, my leg begged me to sit, but I ignored the ache. I needed to be close to the door in case he rejected me. My walk of shame would be easier if I didn’t have to stagger up off the couch.
Bentley leaned against the door. His expression was hard to read, and I tried to focus on something other than how handsome he looked standing there. His arms were folded across his chest as he waited for me to start.
Everything I wanted to say, starting with an apology, had lodged in my throat. I gulped hard, trying to clear the way for my words. “I love you,” I squeaked out like a complete moron. It wasn’t what I had planned on starting the conversation with, but my mind went blank and I panicked.
“What?” He looked like he had been daydreaming and missed what I said.
“I love you,” I repeated with more conviction than before. It wasn’t a lie. I had just planned on leading up to it by apologizing first. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I was too much of an asshole to admit it. I thought if I kept you at arm’s length, it would prevent you from hurting me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I hurried on. I wanted him to hear everything I had to say first. Then he could agree that I was an asshole.
“I know that was unfair. Hell, I know I’ve treated you unfairly from the beginning. From day one you accepted me for who I was, despite all my faults. You never got aggravated, and you never gave up on me, no matter how many times I tried to push you away. You changed me, Bentley. I don’t know if you know that, but you helped me believe I could live again and be happy. For a long time I didn’t think that was possible. And even if it were possible, I thought it would be unfair to the memory of my friends, so I kept throwing up walls. Most of all, I was terrified my heart wouldn’t be able to handle another loss. You’ve made me feel things I’d never felt before.”
He moved away from the door to approach me. I continued, trying to get everything out. “I love every single thing about you. I love your dimples. I love your lips. I probably love those a little too much.” His lips smirked. “I love that you’re funny and caring. I even love that you’re a slob and that you’re scared of your roommate’s iguana. More than anything, I love that you feel everything. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you needed me this morning. I was selfish and once again only thinking about myself. I cannot and will not return to the bubble I existed in before I met you. It won’t always be easy, but I promise if you forgive me, I’ll try harder to pull my weight in this relationship. I’ll be there for you this time.” I don’t think I’d ever given a longer speech in my life. I meant every word. That much I was sure of.
His expression remained unreadable. I was dying inside, wondering what he was thinking. After a moment, he took another step toward to me. My breath hitched as he took a step again. If this was his way of torturing me, I couldn’t deny that I deserved it. He closed the remaining distance, bringing our bodies together. His reached for my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. “You love me?” he asked.
Relief filled me as laughter trickled up through my throat. “That’s what you got from that whole spiel? Are you telling me I could have stopped after the first sentence?” I asked as his eyes moved to my lips. His
thumbs stroked my cheeks.
“Well, you just kept talking. Besides, it was pretty enlightening. Except for the part about Sherman. I am not scared of him. I just don’t like that bastard,” he said, dropping a kiss on my lips.
I relaxed in his embrace. My body felt ready to collapse from exhaustion. He swept me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. I broke the kiss, looking up into his eyes. My fingers traced over the planes of his face. “Does that mean you forgive me?”
“Babe, there was never anything to forgive. That’s why I went to your parents’ house. I owed you an apology for not being more sensitive. I’m a mule sometimes, as my dad likes to remind me.”
“You went to my house?”
He nodded. “I had to.”
“You shouldn’t have to apologize for wanting to talk about your job.”
“Can I ask you a question?” He suddenly looked serious.
“Yes,” I answered apprehensively.
“What the hell happened to your cane?”
A giggle rippled through me, making me shake in his arms. “It’s a long story. One I’ll tell you another time. I’d rather be doing something else,” I said, pulling his head close, claiming the lips that were mine again.
epilogue
Bentley
“You sure you want this one?” She had to be yanking my chain. Over the last few months I learned Mac loved to play practical jokes. She and Chad had a running contest going on who could pull the best prank.
“Absolutely. It has just enough bling.”
“It’s definitely eye-catching.”
“Does that bother you?” she asked, reaching for it.
“No way. If that’s the statement you want to make, who am I to say anything?”
“Whatever, jerk.” She slapped me. “I just think it’s time to retire my superhero stick. It’s way too boyish. This cane screams girl.”