Speaking of Love

by Ophelia London

  “I’ll do it,” Greg went on. “Rick, right? That rich guy?” He set down the cheese knife. “Where does he live?”

  Mac couldn’t help laughing. “Seriously, I’m not sad about anything. Rick and I were not together.”

  Justine rubbed Mac’s arm. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “You can cry to me when Greg leaves. Greg—leave. She needs to cry. Can’t you see how angsty her face looks?”

  “Hey,” Mac said, doing her best not to scowl. “I always look like this.”

  Justine smashed her lips together in an overly dramatic sympathetic frown. “Cry.”

  “Juss.” Mac took her sister by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. They were both about the same height. Their whole family was a bunch of shrimpos. Luckily, they were also very loud, otherwise they would probably disappear in any room.

  “There was never anything going on between Rick and me.” Mac felt like she was repeating herself. “You know that. I told you a million times. It was basically a business arrangement.”

  “Right,” Justine slowly said, looking unconvinced. “You said that, but I thought… I assumed you were just saying that because of the money and everything.”

  “Yeah, well.” Mac kicked off her heels.

  “What’s this?” Greg asked, pointing the cheese knife at a stack of forms sitting on the counter next to the phone.

  “Adoption papers,” Mac said.

  “What?” Justine shrieked and Mac jumped. “Adoption? Things aren’t that bad for you, are they?” She put a hand on Mac’s arm. “Don’t worry. I know you’ll find someone someday. Don’t give up.”

  Greg was suddenly at her other side. “I know some guys at work,” he said. “They’re not all that educated, but at least you won’t have to adopt—”

  “No!” Mac cut him off, laughing. “You guys, I’m not adopting a baby.”

  “You’re not?” Justine looked confused.

  Mac shook her head. “It’s a greyhound rescue program.”

  “Why do buses need to be rescued?” Greg asked, scratching his head.

  Mac turned to him with a sisterly smile. “The dogs,” she explained. “The ones that race. They retire from racing when they’re still young and have to be adopted.”

  “You want a…dog,” Justine said, her words slow and measured.

  Mac leaned against the counter. “I do,” she said. “But I think my apartment is too small and I don’t have a big enough yard. This program has really strict regulations. I don’t think I qualify.”

  “That sucks,” Justine said.

  Mac nodded. “Tell me about it.” Feeling annoyed at the slight pressure building behind her eyes, Mac walked to the refrigerator and pulled open the door, already knowing there wouldn’t be anything interesting inside. She shut the fridge and opened the pantry. Cheetos. Bingo!

  “Getting back to the subject,” Justine said. Then she eyed the Cheetos. “Oh, can I have some?”

  “Don’t get any on the white towels.” Mac handed her the open bag.

  “You’re beyond anal, sis.”

  Mac heard the TV come on in the other room. “Greg, before you claim your spot for the evening, order a pizza,” she called out.

  “Where’s the phone?” her brother hollered back.

  “Right next to you!”

  “Oh.”

  Mac rolled her eyes. “So, what subject are we getting back to?” she asked Justine.

  “Rick Duffy,” Justine said. “It really is for the best. It would give Dad a heart attack.”

  “Rick’s not a bad guy,” Mac said, licking a spot of orange powder off her fingertip.

  Justine shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Dad would go ballistic if he found out you were dating his kid.”

  Mac didn’t need the reminder. The fact that Duffy’s company was responsible for closing the factory that her father had worked at for fifteen years was never far from her mind when she was with Rick.

  “I know that.” Mac groaned.

  “The man just shut the whole place down with hardly any warning!”

  “I know, Juss.”

  “Dad was never the same after that.”

  “It wasn’t Rick’s fault,” Mac said. “He was in high school at the time.” She paused, a little amazed that she was defending him. Weren’t Justine’s words the same thoughts Mac had only a few nights ago at the Chamber dinner with Rick?

  “Doesn’t matter.” Justine shook her head. “Dad will say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Have you forgotten how long it took for him to find another job? Our parents got divorced because of that,” she added, her voice catching. “Do you really think you could ever invite him over for a family dinner?”

  “No,” Mac said, getting a heavy feeling in her chest. “That’s one of the reasons why I’m not going to see him again.”

  The two sisters turned their heads when there was a knock at the door.

  “Someone get that!” Greg called from the living room.

  “Caveman,” Justine muttered.

  Mac stood up. “Don’t worry, I got it.” Out of habit, she looked through the peep hole first.

  Then she gasped and jerked back.

  “Who is it?” Justine asked, sliding up behind her. “Is it a prowler?”

  “What’s a prowler?” Mac asked, as she crouched in front of the door, her hands on her thighs.

  “You know…like…” Justine started making slashing motions with her hand.

  “No,” Mac said, her knees still bent. “It’s—”

  “Mac?” The voice came from the other side of the door. “I can hear you. Everything okay?”

  “Who is it?” Justine mouthed, her eyes wide.

  Mac straightened and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Please don’t say anything…stupid,” she requested, then reached for the knob.

  …

  Rick thought he was seeing double at first. Then he realized the woman standing next to Mac must be her sister.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hey.” Mac was hanging onto the edge of the door. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you were back in town till tomorrow.”

  “Finished early,” Rick said. “You left this in my car the other night.” He held up the bottle of red nail polish that had been rolling around on the floor of the passenger side of his car for three days. “I know it’s not mine because it’s not my color.”

  The sister burst out laughing, but cut it short when Mac shot her a glance. “What?” she said with a shrug. “It was funny.”

  “Rick, this is my sister, Justine.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, handing Mac the nail polish.

  Justine returned a broad smile. “So, this is Rick.”

  He felt his eyebrows pull together.

  Justine put her hands on her hips and turned to her sister. “And I thought you said you were never—”

  “Come in!” Mac said brightly, cutting off whatever Justine was about to say. “It’s freezing.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

  “Thanks,” Rick said and crossed the threshold. He felt Justine’s eyes on him as he followed Mac into the kitchen. She was barefoot and wearing a gray skirt and black sweater. She’d probably just gotten home from work.

  All the lights in the house were on and the TV was playing in the other room. Sounded like a basketball game.

  “That’s my brother in there,” Mac said. “Greg, we have company.”

  “Hey-oh,” Greg called, waving over his head.

  Rick could see the back of him. He was in the reclining chair and probably not willing to give it up. Rick smiled: typical sibling behavior. When he turned around, Justine was right in front of him, her arms crossed.

  “You don’t look like I expected,” she said, squinting her eyes. They were the same shade of blue as Mac’s.

  “I don’t?”

  “No.” She bit her nail while looking him up and down. “You’re taller, better hair, and you’ve got a nice—�
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  “Juss,” Mac hissed. “Leave him alone. Sorry,” she said to Rick. “The day God was passing out tact, the Simmses were making moonshine.”

  Rick laughed. “Every family should have a legacy.”

  “Do you want to sit?” Mac asked.

  Rick went to take the spot next to her, but Justine offered him the chair at her side instead. “Thanks,” he said. He didn’t mind the stares. Justine was obviously curious about him, and Rick was equally curious about her. He’d never met anyone in Mac’s family, and suddenly he’d hit the jackpot.

  “We just ordered pizza,” Justine said. “Can you stay?”

  “Thanks, but I can’t,” Rick said. The truth was, he would love to hang out here all night, but he was catching a vibe that Mac was uncomfortable. Maybe he’d walked in on a sisterly conversation. He didn’t want to intrude any further.

  “Why?” Mac asked. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “I should hit the gym, but I don’t have time,” Rick said.

  Mac stood up and pulled a Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper out of the fridge. “Want one?” she asked. When Rick declined, she automatically handed one to Justine. Like their sizes and faces, apparently the two sisters shared a similar caffeine addiction.

  “Do you have hockey on Friday?” Mac asked, filling a cup with ice.

  “You play hockey?” Justine asked.

  Rick nodded.

  “Hockey’s sexy,” she added, cracking open her can.

  Rick nodded again and noticed a very distinct glare shoot from Mac to her sister. If said glare was meant to discourage Justine from talking, it hadn’t worked, because she started up again.

  “Where do you play?”

  Rick glanced at Mac before answering, feeling a little like he should ask permission before speaking. When Mac offered him a tiny shoulder shrug, he figured he was okay.

  “The rink by the university opens early in the mornings for three-on-three, half-court scrimmages.”

  “You’re on a team? Who’s on it? Anyone I know?”

  Man, the girl could talk, even with half her drink already gone. She was definitely Mac’s sister.

  “Tess’s fiancé, Jack,” Mac answered for him.

  “Jack’s a cool guy.” Justine made a face. “Can’t see him playing hockey, though. Who else?”

  “Charlie,” Rick said. “When he’s home.”

  “Charlie Johansson? Tess’s brother in the army?” Justine sat up straight. “He’s hot.”

  “Juss,” Mac whispered, her glass trying to hide her mouth.

  “What? It’s true.”

  Mac laughed at her sister and shook her head. They were like a comedy tag-team.

  “Honestly,” Mac said, looking at Rick, “I’m surprised you can get Charlie up so early. When he’s on leave, he splits his time between restoring his Chevy Impala and dating a string of chicks. I’d think a six o’clock wake-up call would cramp his style.”

  “When does he go back to Afghanistan?” Justine asked, downing the rest of her drink.

  “Pretty soon,” Rick said, looking past Mac’s shoulder to where Greg was whooping at whatever just happened on the game he was watching. “We’ll need a replacement.” Rick wondered if their brother would want to take Charlie’s place on the ice. He’d ask Mac about that later.

  “I’ll help you think of someone,” Justine was quick to offer.

  “Um, thanks,” Rick said. He couldn’t help smiling. He was really looking forward to the early morning game. Playing the role of big boss at the newspaper all day was starting to wear him down. He needed the release of a good workout.

  “So, lunch on Friday,” he said, folding his hands on top of the table.

  “Another non-date between you two?” Justine said, cocking an eyebrow.

  “No,” Mac said.

  Rick turned to her. “No?”

  “No, I mean, yes for lunch, no about the date.”

  Justine leaned toward her sister. “Explain?”

  Mac fluttered her eyelashes. “Sister, dear, why don’t you run along and…paint your toenails,” she said, sliding the polish across the table and baring her teeth.

  “Why don’t you kiss my—”

  Rick laughed. Having only one brother and growing up in a house void of the usual raucousness, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Are those my Cheetos?” he asked, gesturing at the bag on the counter behind Mac.

  “Back to this lunch you’re talking about,” Justine said. “What’s the deal?”

  Rick watched Mac reach for the bag of Cheetos and shove a few powdery orange sticks into her mouth. “I’m setting him up with Brandy,” she explained to her sister, crunching.

  “Brandy?” Justine balked.

  Rick was taken aback by her surprise. “Something wrong with her?”

  Mac shrugged and continued chewing.

  “Uh, no,” Justine said, letting out a long breath. “She’s pretty close to perfect, actually. You’ll love her.”

  That was a relief. For a moment there, Rick was afraid he’d stepped into a trap with the whole matchmaking thing. He did catch a few more unreadable looks shooting between the sisters, and he was pretty sure one of them kicked the other under the table. He should probably get out of there.

  “Well”—he pushed back his chair and stood up—“I should take off. I haven’t been home yet.”

  “You stopped here first?” Mac asked. “It’s not even on the way.”

  Rick shrugged. “It was no problem.” What he could have added was that he’d been thinking about her on his drive home from the farmlands. His car had just kind of naturally headed her way.

  When they got to the door, Justine was folding her arms. “You know what, I like him,” she said clinically, as if Rick wasn’t standing right there. “I wish he could stay.”

  “He can’t,” Mac said as she pulled open the front door. “Shucks. But thanks for dropping by.”

  “No problem.” Rick stepped onto the porch. “I’ll see you Friday.”

  “Yep, Friday,” Mac said, then she jumped as if someone poked her side. Probably her sister. “I gotta go. See ya.”

  As soon as the door shut, he could hear animated voices behind it. Sounded like Justine wouldn’t be getting any pizza tonight. Rick felt himself smiling as he walked to his car. And he knew it had nothing to do with meeting Brandy.

  Chapter Six

  “Here’s to a fabulous weekend!” Tess said.

  “Not yet!” Mac pulled back her glass, refusing to clink until the toast was just right. “We’re a day early because you’re going away for the weekend.”

  “Close enough. And a teachers’ half-day of meetings on a Friday doesn’t count as an actual workday. I used to teach at the high school, too. Remember?”

  “True,” Mac conceded with a smile, then reached across the table and clinked her glass against Tess’s. “Cheers.”

  It had been a pretty long few days and Mac was more than ready to begin her weekend unwind early.

  Typically, her weekend commenced with meeting up with her best friend Tess on Friday for a girls’ night out and for a blow-by-blow personal life update. Before Tess got engaged to Jack, her weekly recaps were much more interesting.

  Not that Tess and Jack had a boring relationship; they were just so darn happy. Sometimes Mac got a little grossed out when she had to hear about it. Jack was the head football coach at Mac’s school and, although Mac herself never had the hots for him, she knew how lucky Tess was to have bagged such a great guy.

  “So,” Tess said, running a hand through her dark hair, her engagement ring sparkling under the restaurant’s track lighting, “you only have a month until all your free time will be filled with maid of honor duties.” She grinned. “What are your weekend plans?”

  “I don’t have any,” Mac said.

  “No date?” Tess lowered her glass. “What are you? Sick? Leaving town? Ohhh, are you being whisked away to somewhere exotic by a handsome pirate?”

&
nbsp; Mac picked up a tortilla chip from the bowl between them and scooped some guacamole. “Wouldn’t that be considered a date?”

  Tess laughed, reaching for her own chip. “I believe there has to be a hint of emotional investment to constitute a date. And with you…” She trailed off, pointing her chip at Mac.

  “Ha-ha,” Mac laughed without humor. She chewed longer than necessary. “Do you really think I’m emotionally unavailable?”

  She looked up when her friend burst into laughter. “What?”

  “This coming from the woman who refuses a second date on principle. The only man you see on a regular basis is Reporter Rick, and we both know that will never go anywhere.”

  “No joke,” Mac said, taking another chip. “Brandy’s coming into town tonight. I’m setting them up.”

  “Your cousin? I thought she was seeing that banker with the bedroom eyes and bad attitude.”

  “They broke up once she realized he was pond scum. Now she’s on the prowl.”

  “Is Rick interested in dating?”

  Mac shrugged. “Aren’t all men?”

  “No,” Tess said, tucking some dark hair behind her ears. “I thought the whole arrangement between you two was so that neither of you had to date.” She tossed a chip in her mouth. “What happened?”

  Mac rested her elbow on the table. “It was getting complicated.”

  “Because you think he’s hot.”

  Mac didn’t like the way Tess was looking at her. Her best friend’s blue eyes always had a way of seeing the truth.

  “He is hot,” Mac granted, not bothering to deny it.

  “So then tell me again, why don’t you date him? For real, and not all these fake-out non-dates?”

  “You know why,” Mac said, dropping her voice, running her index finger around the rim of her glass.

  Tess thought for a moment then nodded, leaning her crossed arms on the table. “Have you ever talked to Rick about what happened with your dad?”

  Mac shook her head.

  “He might not know about the Elm Street factory, Mac. It happened ages ago, and he didn’t grow up here in Franklin. His father’s probably closed down a lot of factories.”

  “Comforting,” Mac said, resting her chin in her hand.

  “What do you really know about Rick? All you guys do together is go to dinner parties with a hundred other people. How can you possibly get to know someone that way? Do you ever talk?”