“That’s good to hear.”
“I’ve said all this to Abby too.” Vivian smoothed her dress neatly over her knees. “Now, this relationship is bound to change the dynamics of our team a little, but I think we can minimize any negative effects. I don’t want Cleo feeling like odd person out.”
“We don’t either,” Mac said. “All three of us will watch out for that.”
“Good. You three are a dynamite crew. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a team that’s meshed so well, professionally and personally.” Vivian tapped the sheaf of papers in her lap. “And this is one of the best three-month evaluations I’ve ever written, Mac. I’m pretty strict with first performance reviews, but yours is basically a rave.”
“Thank you.” Mac meant it. She had been lucky in her supervisors. She’d respected them all, but Vivian’s opinion was especially important to her.
“And now that you and Fireside have gotten to know each other, it’s time to look down the road a bit.” Vivian crossed one elegant leg over the other. “I realize no one in this field can make any promises about longevity, Mac. Social service uses people hard, and burns them out fast. I can’t ask front-line staff to sign multiyear contracts. But I want you to consider staying on here, longer than the one or two years you’ve been at your other jobs.”
Mac shifted in her chair. “I was in Seattle for almost three years.”
“You’ve been program-hopping, honey.” Vivian’s voice was kind. “And maybe that works for you, moving around the country, learning more with each new placement. I can see that as an exciting way of life. But Fireside is my baby, and I want the best for her. And the best means building a stable staff, a long-term, established team.”
Mac couldn’t argue with that.
“Just asking you to think outside the box.” Vivian smiled. “Ponder things for a while, and we’ll talk again.”
Mac’s mood had darkened. She felt like a petulant child now, arguing internally with Vivian, sounding whiny even in her own mind. She kicked a pinecone off the rocky trail.
It galled Mac to admit that Vivian’s mild criticism was valid. She was fully aware she had been shelter-hopping. She worked through the first years of a position, honeymooning, flush with the challenge and excitement of learning a new program. Then she moved on, passing through shelters but not investing in them, not sticking around to do the tough work of helping them grow and flourish.
Mac tried to explain it to Vivian in her mind. More important, and more frightening, she tried to explain it to Abby.
They were wrong if they feared Mac just got bored easily. It wasn’t boredom or disillusion or burnout that had driven her from one city to the next for the past decade. It was an inherent restlessness that Mac had been born with and still didn’t understand, a sense of needing movement in order to stay afloat. And that easy mobility, that urge to wander, was her way of life now. Mac had been a nomad for so long, nothing else felt normal or safe.
Putting down roots. Falling in love. The most crucial tasks of adulthood, and she had managed to avoid both, until now, through determined effort. Her step hesitated on the stony trail. Cleo was right. If Mac wanted to change any of this, she might have to find her own intestinal fortitude.
“She’s worth it,” Mac whispered. “The lady’s worth it.”
She paused again, listening.
The steps fell silent behind her. Close behind her. Mac turned.
It was fully dark now, and Fireside’s drafty back property seemed barren and wild beneath the full moon. She waited.
“I can’t hear you,” Mac said finally. She spoke as calmly as she would to anyone who needed Mac’s help. “But I’m trying. I’m listening, and I want to understand. You keep trying too. Okay?”
Mac stood there until the chill breeze cut through her denim jacket. Then she moved on, focusing on the roof of the main house, just visible over the rise. Friendly smoke wended from one of its chimneys.
*
“I wanna stay!” Ashy yelled again, after the woman’s retreating back. “Hey! I wanna stay right HERE!”
The big dumb woman still couldn’t hear her. Ashy was doing her best. It wasn’t her fault if Mac still didn’t even know her name. She had told her it a gazillion chillion times now. Ashy had said what she wanted, too, as loud as she possibly could. It’s not like she was asking for a box of diamonds or a real pony or something. It wouldn’t be that hard.
She puffed her bangs off her forehead in exasperation, and trotted to catch up.
Chapter Fifteen
Abby realized Mac didn’t really need her assistance on a simple Danny-fetching trip. But Cleo was up to her ears in phone calls when the time came to pick Danny up from school, and she had waved them both out the door—still finding ways, Abby suspected, to give her and Mac time alone.
Abby had offered her overworked colleague cheerful thanks before she hopped into the Jeep beside Mac. She had already covered a full day of examinations and paperwork, and she was more than happy to escape the confines of the main house for a while.
For the second time, she politely peeled Mac’s hand from her thigh and placed it back on the steering wheel. “Here, Mac, let’s try this. I’ll clamp your knee in a death grip, and you’ll keep both hands on the wheel, so that we shouldn’t die. Will that be all right?”
“Guess it’ll have to be. Just trying to be romantical, and all.”
Abby rested her hand on Mac’s knee and sat back to enjoy the scenery. Mac seemed lighter today, more herself. She must be working out whatever worries were plaguing her dreams—though Abby would still prefer she work them out aloud, with her. She silently thanked Cleo again for their unexpected time together this cloudy afternoon.
“Ooh, we should turn off there on the way back.” Abby nearly nicked Mac’s ear, pointing to the gated road dwindling behind them. “Want to see the farm where George Washington grew up? Where he famously told the truth about murdering the cherry tree? Before he became a man and stole all of the Colonies away from us.”
“I don’t know, I’m still pretty torn up about that little tree. That’s a dark moment in our national conscience.” Mac checked her rearview mirror, her cheek dimpling. “Sure, why not. I bet Danny hasn’t seen the murder scene either. We’ll stop off on the way home.”
“There are several stops I’d like us to make sometime, Mac, places I haven’t had a chance to show you yet. The Kenmore Gardens. And oh, the Hugh Mercer Apothecary Shop. Did you know they have live leeches there, those famous medicinal bloodsuckers of old?”
“I didn’t know this.” Mac sounded appropriately impressed. She removed her hand from the wheel just long enough to pat Abby’s. “Sounds good to me, Doc. As long as we can sneak in tickets to a baseball game now and again.”
Baseball season was almost upon them; spring was near. Abby contemplated the seasons as she watched the trees flicker by her window. Mac would be here this spring, and probably the next. Knowing that had to be enough, for now. Abby was determined to focus on moments like this, when Mac was warm and real beside her.
“Abby. We probably should finish that talk.”
“Which talk is this?”
“Our first one. About what might happen to Fireside, if things don’t work out between us.”
Abby closed her eyes. Mac usually had a superlative sense of timing in all things, but this was not her finest hour. She turned her head on the backrest and looked at her.
“I just need to say that I would be the one to leave.” Mac looked as if she knew this was a painful topic, but a necessary one. “You helped Cleo and Vivian open Fireside, Abby. And you love this town. I could see it in your eyes just now.”
“I am fond of those leeches.” Abby wasn’t smiling. But she reminded herself she had just wished Mac would talk to her about her worries, and she needed to truly listen. “Can I ask why this is coming up right now, Mac? I thought we were doing fairly well.”
“We are. I needed to say that, because I want to
say this.” Mac waited until Abby nodded. “Abby, I’m crazy about you. I want us to work, and so far, things are going beautifully. And that means I want to protect you, if I can. You chose this shelter as your path of redemption, I know that. You’ve put down roots, and you have good friends here. If disaster strikes us—and I’m seeing that as unlikely, mind you—I just wanted you to know I’d be the one to go. I won’t let you lose Fireside.”
“Thank you.” The words sounded wooden in Abby’s ears. But then she thought about them, rode with them through a mile of silence. She could feel Mac’s troubled glances. The thought of losing her stunned Abby. It was easy to let that thought override any other consideration. But she did understand that this was Mac’s way of taking care of her. It was true, they had never finished that first talk, and Fireside mattered deeply to Abby. Mac was promising her that whatever happened, Abby’s needs would come first. She spoke the words again, and meant them this time. “Thank you, Mac.”
The Jeep rumbled down the tree-lined street that housed Danny’s public high school. It was a working-class neighborhood, and the vehicles lining the street were sensible economy models. On their first pass by the school to find a parking place, Abby didn’t see many students milling outside; they were a little early.
“Let’s get Cleo power steering for her birthday.” Mac cranked the wheel slowly at the end of the street. “I do love this butch little Jeep, but—”
Abby touched the dashboard as Mac put on the brakes. “What’s wrong?”
“That’s Sam Sherrill’s truck.”
“Oh, Lord. Where?”
“Up ahead on the right.” Mac backed smoothly into a no-parking zone and opened her door. “What say you stay here and keep an eye out for Danny?”
“Yes, excellent idea.” Abby was already climbing out of the Jeep. “I can still keep an eye out for Danny while that ugly man beats you with his tire iron.”
She trotted to keep up with Mac’s stride. She recognized Sherrill’s truck. The same dirty white Dodge pickup with the garish red plumbing logo on the door had been idling in the drive only a few weeks ago. Abby could see one burly arm braced on its open side window.
“Mr. Sherrill.” Mac stopped just behind the driver’s door and put a hand out to keep Abby well out of the man’s reach. Sherrill jumped and had to crane back over his shoulder to see them. “I’d say you were about two feet away from violating a court order. What are you doing here?”
It took a moment for Sherrill to stop gaping at them. He was unshaven, but at least Abby couldn’t smell liquor on him. The bruise Mac had punched into his jaw was just the faintest of circles among the whiskers. Abby wished she could see farther into the truck for anything he could use as a weapon; all she could make out was a pair of binoculars on the dashboard.
“Hey, I’m a hundred feet from the entrance.” Sherrill jabbed his finger toward the school down the street. “I damn near counted off the steps. I’m not violating a fucking thing.”
“Danny doesn’t want to talk to you.” Mac spoke succinctly. “You heard her say it.”
“I wasn’t gonna talk to her. I just wanted to see her.” Sherrill lifted the binoculars, then dropped them again on the dash. “All this time, I don’t even know how my little girl is, if she’s okay.”
Abby thought of Cleo, parked outside schools and soccer fields for years, unable to talk to Danny because of this man. “Danny is fine, Mr. Sherrill. All you can accomplish here is upsetting her again. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is for that big bitch you work with to stop stealing my family.” Sherrill gripped the steering wheel, and Abby could see his knuckles go white. “She thinks she can brainwash my only child into hating my guts. She can file all the fucking orders she wants—”
Abby heard a faint buzzing sound from the direction of the school, and Mac glanced over her shoulder before leaning both hands on Sherrill’s open window. “Look. We’re not having this conversation. Unless you think pulling out a tape measure will convince a cop not to take you to jail, move on out of here. The order is clear, you’re not to come anywhere near Danny. If you’re still here when she comes up that walk, she’ll see you get slapped into cuffs.”
Sherrill was silent, grinding his hands around the wheel, and Abby wanted to tug Mac farther away from the truck. Then he keyed the ignition sharply. “I haven’t had a drink in twelve days,” he spat. “You tell Danny that. You better tell her!”
Mac stepped back as he gunned the engine and lurched off in a spray of gravel and dust. Abby moved closer to her, and they watched the white truck careen down the street and around the corner, until the roaring of its motor faded.
“I reckon I could have been more diplomatic.” Mac brushed dust from Abby’s sleeve. “But time was a factor here.”
“Danny has to know about this, doesn’t she?” Abby hated seeing the light fade from Danny’s eyes whenever her father was mentioned.
“Yeah. But let’s tell Cleo first. She can talk to Danny after dinner.”
“Hey! There you are.” Danny was walking toward them, canting to one side from the weight of her backpack. “Is there some reason you guys parked in Bermuda?”
Mac was starting to come down off the tight rush of energy that filled her the moment she saw Sherrill’s truck. She shook out her hands as she went to Danny, then lifted her backpack from her shoulder. “Dang, young woman. What are you hauling in here?”
“Calculus. World history. Chemistry.” Danny shuffled beside them, flexing her arm and sounding burdened. “All my cool art projects are finished. Now it’s just the grind stuff I need to graduate.”
Mac opened the Jeep’s passenger door and let Danny crawl behind the front seats onto the narrow back bench. She stopped Abby before she could duck inside, and looked around carefully.
“You think he might come back?” Abby whispered.
Mac shook her head. “No, this just doesn’t seem like the kind of street that would welcome a Gay Pride march.” She saw no one paying any attention to them, and she touched Abby’s wrist. “Did you hear what I said earlier, Doc? The most important thing I said?”
Abby looked puzzled. “You said a lot of important things earlier, Mac.”
“The most crucial thing. I’m crazy about you, Abby.” Mac bent her head and looked directly into Abby’s eyes. “I’m absolutely crazy about you, Dr. Glenn.”
A slow smile dawned on Abby’s lips. “I’m glad to hear that, Counselor. Because I’m growing excessively fond of you too.”
Mac’s knees went numb. She could recognize all the subtle shades of Abby’s smiles now, and this one held a touch of sweet sultriness that made her want to sweep her into her arms for some prolonged liplock, as Cleo would call it. She restrained herself with effort and gallantly held the door open for Abby.
“Hey, go around the drive, Mac!” Danny bounced lightly on the bench, craning between them to see through the windshield.
“Through here?” Mac turned into the circular drive that went past the school’s entrance.
“Yeah. That’s him, the big redhead in the letter sweater. Sitting on the steps. See him?”
Mac noticed Danny ducked back into a corner as they drove past the basketball player she’d had a crush on for months. Mac would have recognized him without Danny’s prompts, as she had described him in loving and lavish detail on their walks.
“He has a nice face,” Abby said, looking back out the window.
“Don’t stare, Abby!” Danny yelped.
“Sorry.” Abby leaned her arm on the front seat. “Is the young man with the nice face someone special, Danny?”
“No, he’s just one-way special at most. He doesn’t know I’m alive.” Danny slumped back on the bench as Mac turned them onto the street. “He asked Effy Lundgren to the prom, if you can believe that.”
“I can’t,” Abby said. “We’ve always hated that Effy with a passion, the little banshee.”
That coaxed a smile out of Danny. “She’
s a slut. I’m sorry, but she is. That reminds me, though. I’m supposed to ask you guys something.”
Abby looked faintly alarmed that sluttishness might bring her and Mac to Danny’s mind. “You’re supposed to?”
“Yeah. Cleo told me to ask you because she’s tired of me asking her.” Danny lowered her voice into an affectionate imitation of Cleo. “Girl, you want to know about Mac and Abby, you go ask Mac and Abby.” Danny’s smile turned shy. “So I’m asking.”
Mac caught Abby’s eye and winked.
Abby turned to face Danny more fully. “Well, I guess you’ve noticed we’re spending a lot of time together. Living at the other end of the hallway, it would be difficult to miss.”
“Well, yeah. You guys are real discreet and everything, but yeah.”
“Your instincts are right, Dan,” Mac said. She reached over and pinched Abby’s cheek, gently. “I’m sparking Miss Abby, here.”
“You could say we’re courting.” Abby smiled at Mac, and damned if that light blush didn’t color her face. Sultry one moment, bashful the next. Mac pressed on the gas, wanting to get home. They had a good hour before dinner.
“This is so cool.” Danny was grinning broadly. “When did all this start?”
“We’re still fairly new to each other,” Abby said. “I believe our six-week anniversary is coming up.”
“Darling, you remembered.” Mac blinked at Abby sentimentally, and Abby slapped her knee.
“This is so cool,” Danny said again. Her sulk about the slutty Effy Lundgren forgotten, her face glowed with a genuine and unselfish happiness for them, a side of Danny they were seeing more often lately. “So, can you be pretty out, around Fireside? Vivian seems like she’d be okay with it.”
“Sure.” Mac checked for cross-traffic and turned onto the highway. “As out as any couple should be, in a professional setting. We won’t touch a lot around the residents, but they’ll probably know we’re together.” She glanced at Danny in the rearview mirror. “And we can relax around folks who become friends too, like you.”
Fireside Page 15