Dockery caught her eye, and she forced a smile in return. She crossed the room to join them, but not before being stopped by LaRae Forrester, the group leader she’d met before.
“She sure has taken a shine to Dockery,” the woman said, smiling like a conspirator. She walked quickly away, leaving Macy more apprehensive about seeing Dockery than she already was.
Macy put on a smile and tried to sound cheery as she called Emma’s name. “Ready to go, honey?” she said, a little too loudly.
Emma stopped swinging on Dockery, dropped to the floor, and put her hands on her hips. Oh no, Macy thought. She knew that look all too well. Emma was working her way up to a full-blown tantrum. She knew the drill and prepared herself to avoid the tantrum at all costs, especially in front of Dockery. She wondered what made a guy like him show up to teach kids every morning at a community center in a small beach town. Why wasn’t he working right now? If he’s so great, what is he doing here?
“I don’t want to go,” Emma said. Her tone was forceful, not whiny. Whiny, Macy knew, would come later, if force didn’t work.
“Well, we’ve got to go get some lunch. How about we stop at that stand you like and get a corn dog?” Emma loved nitrates on a stick, though it pained Macy to see her ingest them. Today, though, she would let go of her anti-corn-dog ways if it would get them out of here faster. There was a price to be paid for everything.
“I could buy her one,” Dockery offered.
Macy narrowed her eyes at him. That was a low blow, offering in front of the kid.
“Yes! Let’s do that, Mommy!” Emma said, jumping up and down. She raced across the room to grab her things as if the decision was already made.
Macy and Dockery traded polite, awkward smiles. She wanted to know why he was making the effort to spend the afternoon with them and what had made him take such a liking to Emma. Not one to trust easily, Macy wanted to make sure Dockery was safe before she allowed him to be around her daughter. But as she looked into his warm brown eyes, she couldn’t deny the kindness she saw there. Of course, only time would tell if he was what he seemed. And how much time would she really be spending with him, after all? It was one afternoon, one corn dog. She decided to stick close to Emma, stay in a public place, and see what happened. One thing she noticed about her search for the artist — it had her overthinking almost every little encounter. She mumbled something to Dockery about finding Emma and went off to retrieve her, laughing at herself as she walked away.
Emma was struggling with a homemade kite that had a long, unwieldy tail attached to it. It was bright pink, which didn’t surprise Macy at all. Pink was Emma’s signature color, as they said in Steel Magnolias.
“That’s beautiful, Emma,” she said, pointing at the kite.
“Dockery promised me he’d take me to fly it,” Emma said. “It’s a princess kite.”
Macy exhaled. This day just kept getting better and better.
“Oh, yeah,” she managed. “You two could do that sometime.” The words “sometime” and “someday” and “we’ll see” were Macy’s favorite go-to phrases, a way of saying no without actually having to say it.
Emma’s eyes narrowed at her mother. “Today, Mommy. And not just me and Dockery, but me, you, and Dockery.” Emma marched back over to Dockery, the kite’s tail trailing behind her, bobbing in her wake.
Macy half hoped the tail would break off and the kite would be ruined. Emma’s tears would be quicker to deal with than an afternoon with this stranger. It wasn’t that he didn’t interest her, it was that things were complicated enough with Nate and Wyatt. Adding a third guy to the mix at this point seemed like a bad idea.
She thought of the plan she’d made on her drive to Ocean Isle to get Emma. She had hoped to get out of the community center quickly so she could head over to the church and surprise Nate with an invite to have lunch with her and Emma. She’d been looking forward to seeing him, actually.
Dockery took the kite from Emma, and the two of them looked at her. “Did Emma tell you about our plans for this afternoon?” he asked.
Macy had been railroaded and she knew it. She managed a nod.
“You okay with that?” he asked. He had a look on his face that was half challenge, half cat-that-ate-the-canary. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t good with her in order to wipe that look right off his smug face, but with Emma standing there with that excited look, she just couldn’t. Her plans for an afternoon with Nate receded like the tide. She had no choice but to follow Emma and Dockery out to the parking lot and, beyond that, to the beach.
It turned out Dockery had packed a picnic, but he still bought the corn dog he’d promised Emma.
“You sure you don’t want one?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” she said. She swallowed her comment about how obvious it was that he had planned this afternoon in advance. The picnic basket alone was evidence that this was premeditated. She wanted to ask him what was so important about them spending time together. Instead she focused all her attention on Emma and generally tried to make the afternoon about her. She ate fruit, baked chips, and a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich he had packed, remembering all the lunches on the beach she’d eaten with her father. She sat on the blanket Dockery had brought for them and watched as he helped Emma adjust the kite string so it soared higher and higher into the air. One thing Macy did like about the afternoon was hearing Emma’s delighted shrieks. A smile crept onto her face as she watched.
She watched Dockery turn the kite string over to Emma and say something to her before patting her on the back and walking back to the blanket.
Emma turned to grin at Macy. “I’m doing it by myself, Mommy!” she screamed. Her ponytail was whipping in the wind and her face shone.
Macy gave her two thumbs-up and made room for Dockery as he sank onto the blanket.
“She’s a great kid,” he said. “Thanks for letting me do this with her.”
Macy shrugged. “Sure.”
“But why do I get the feeling you’d rather be somewhere else?”
“I just had some other plans, that’s all.”
“Oh, sorry. I hadn’t thought about that. Emma said you guys don’t do much in the afternoons. I thought you’d like to pass the time doing something different.”
What a sad picture Emma had painted for him: the two of them wandering around with nothing to do all afternoon. Was this his good deed for the day? Entertain the poor single mom and her kid?
“You’re quite the do-gooder, aren’t you?” Macy was determined to keep him at arm’s length, no matter how nice or charming he was.
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Something like that.”
“Is that why you work at the day camp? To do good?”
“I’m a volunteer. Helping out a friend, I guess you could say.”
“So that isn’t your real job?”
He laughed. “Hardly.”
“What is your real job, if you don’t mind me asking?” Macy pushed her hair behind her ears as she had a habit of doing whenever she wore it down. She wished she’d worn a ball cap. She would have if she’d know she was going to spend the day on the windy beach.
He stood up and pointed in Emma’s direction. “Oops! Gotta help your daughter. She’s about to lose that kite.” He ran off in Emma’s direction without offering any more explanation.
Left with nothing to do, Macy gathered the trash from their lunch and walked the distance to the trash bin located near the public access, dutifully dropping the soda cans in the recycling bin.
When she came back to the blanket, Dockery was reclining on it.
“She sure can wear you out,” he said.
She tried not to look at his form sprawled across the blanket, sturdy and solid with the kind of broad shoulders that could bear a load, even the one she came with. Looking at him only made her think of things she shouldn’t. She thought instead of Nate and Wyatt. They were certainly enough to keep her mind occupied. She’d never been a greedy pers
on and didn’t intend to start wanting more than her share now. No matter how good her options looked.
“Yeah, she’s a bundle of energy, that’s for sure. I know she’s loving all this attention from you. Thank you for being nice to her.” The key was to keeping the focus on Emma.
“She said her dad is back at her house in Greensboro?” he asked. This was a recurring theme—men wanted to know about Chase.
“Yeah. He’s house-sitting for us while we’re here. But we’re not together. We split up when she was just a baby. He’s only recently come back into our lives.” Why was she telling him this? What difference did it make whether this man knew her relationship status? Don’t be greedy, she reminded herself.
“Well, that explains it,” he said.
“Explains what?”
A sly grin crossed his face. “Nothing.”
“No, what? Tell me.” He knew how to get her curiosity up, that was for sure. Dockery had mysterious covered.
“You can tell she hasn’t had many men in her life, that’s all. She kind of treats me like a novelty. Her dad’s not been around, and she said her grandfather died?”
How much had Emma divulged to this stranger? Macy felt her heart clench at his honest assessment of her daughter’s formative years.
“Yes,” she said. “My dad died when I was sixteen. He was the one who used to bring us here.”
Dockery was silent for a moment. “I lost my dad too. A few years ago. I wasn’t sixteen but … it was still hard. Now I help my mom run our family cleaning business.”
“And volunteer,” she added.
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Among other things. I guess you could say I’m a jack-of-all-trades.”
“A real Renaissance man.”
“That’s me.” When he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners. She found herself wondering about this man, his many sides and talents. Greedy or not, Macy found herself wanting to know more, which only frustrated her more. The last thing she needed was to find another man intriguing. But if Dockery was trying to interest her, his plan was working.
Nate was waiting for her when she got back to the beach house. Or at least, she thought he was. His car was in the driveway, and after unbuckling Emma, Macy raced up the stairs with her to see him, only to find Max in the den talking to him. She felt like she had walked in on something, because Max looked down while Nate stood up.
She looked from Max to Nate and back again, wondering just what Max had said to Nate. What family secrets had Max been spilling? Her heart raced as she tried to breathe deeply. Mumbling some excuse, she backed out of the den and headed for her room. Once safely there, with the door closed, she sat down on the bed. She couldn’t figure out why Nate had seemed so awkward, why Max had avoided her eyes.
She pulled the guest book into her lap and ran her fingers across the cover, her mind flitting to the strange afternoon she’d had.
When she was leaving the beach, Dockery had stopped her from getting into her car, his touch on her arm both halting her and unsettling her. She couldn’t deny how handsome he was, and something in her thrilled at the mystery of him. He had looked into her eyes as he spoke, fixing her with his gaze.
“Emma said you’re an artist at work,” he’d said. “So what kind of artist are you?”
She loved that Emma saw her that way, but her daughter also believed she herself was a princess and that unicorns were real. She was embarrassed to explain to Dockery just why Emma was wrong. So she’d merely nodded. “I guess you could say that. Signs and murals. Things like that.”
“Well, we’re doing a seascape for our art project on Monday, and I wondered if you’d come by and demonstrate some techniques.” He’d shrugged. “I could use the help.”
“Um, okay,” she had agreed, wondering if it was the smart thing to do, yet knowing how much Emma would love having her there. She was still keeping the focus on Emma. She would just have to ignore the part of her that was happy she’d be seeing him again.
Had he been asking because he needed the help, or was this a ploy to see her again? At times she thought he was just trying to be nice. He was obviously a do-gooder—perhaps he just picked a struggling mom to reach out to from week to week. But Macy didn’t want to be anyone’s project—not Nate’s, not Wyatt’s, and not Dockery’s. Of the three of them, she was worried least about that issue with Wyatt, who seemed genuinely interested in having fun with her.
Now, as she thought about agreeing to help Dockery, she wondered how wise it had been. She got up and headed for the kitchen to get a drink of water. Remembering she had left Emma’s kite in the car, she went outside instead.
She was bending over the trunk to grab the kite when she sensed that someone was standing behind her. She jumped and banged her head on the hatch. She rubbed the top of her head and spun around to find Nate standing behind her, a concerned look on his face.
“You all right?” he asked, reaching out to touch the top of her head.
He had the kindest eyes. Eyes that seemed to see past whatever she tried to put out there. It had been those eyes that had made her tell him so much the other night. Those eyes that had made her want to have lunch with him today. That and the sense that there was unfinished business between them, leftover from their walk on the beach the other night. They had resisted the desire they both felt, but it lingered, even as they stood on the driveway in the middle of the day.
“I came by today to see you,” he said. “I’m glad I waited around a bit.”
She pulled the tail of the kite from the trunk and slammed the hatch shut.
“Me too,” she said. “Actually, I had hoped to stop by the church for lunch today. I was going to surprise you, but Emma had other plans.” She gave him a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug and held the kite to her chest.
He smiled at her. “Well, I’m glad you almost came by today. Think we can get together after the weekend’s over?” He smiled. “Weekends are kind of busy for me.”
She brightened. “Actually, yes. I have to help out at Emma’s camp on Monday. I could come by after?”
“Teaching underwater basket-weaving?” he teased.
“Teaching seascapes. I like to paint. And draw.”
“Really? Isn’t that interesting. We have that in common.”
Her heart raced. “We do?”
“Did you see those murals in the Sunday school rooms?” he asked.
She nodded. She had loved the one of Jesus with his lap full of children. A palm tree had its branches spread over them all.
He held out his hands. “Yours truly.” He took a little bow.
“Pastor by day, artist by night?” she teased.
He smirked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Something like that.” A moment passed between them that filled her heart with hope. If God was in this—and she hoped He was—then it made sense that Nate was the one.
“So … Monday, lunch?” he asked. “And maybe Sunday I’ll look out and see you in the congregation cheering me on?”
“I’ll start the wave,” she joked. She bit back the huge smile that was playing at her lips.
He put his hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her. “See ya.”
Then he walked to his car and drove away. She watched his car disappear down Main Street. As she turned to go back in the house, she noticed Wyatt on the porch of Buzz’s house, watching her with a look on his face that could only be described as sadness. She pretended she didn’t see him and escaped into Time in a Bottle, shutting the door between her and the rest of the world.
nineteen
Mom!” Emma burst into the room, a smile lighting her face. Macy slid the guest book under the sheets. She didn’t feel like explaining to Emma what the book was at that moment.
Macy had been staring at the self-portrait the artist had drawn ten years ago. Did he look like Nate? She’d also been thinking about the photo of the young boy on the beach, hoping some feature would jump out at her, proof that Nate was her mystery artist. She fo
und herself hoping he was. Perhaps having a pastor in her life would make her foundation more solid.
Emma hopped onto the bed, landing right on the guest book. In her enthusiasm, she didn’t even notice. “We’re all going to play putt-putt!”
Macy squinted her eyes at Emma. “And all means who?” she asked, barely paying attention as she continued to think about Nate. She tried to envision the murals in the church —comparing her memory of them to the style in the guest book. But the murals had been more like cartoons than the serious renderings in the guest book. Apples to oranges. Hardly a solid clue.
“Mommy, are you listening to me? I don’t think you have your listening ears on. Here, I’ll tell you again.” Emma held out her hands and began to tick off the people with her fingers. “Me, you, Grandma, Uncle Max, Buzz, and Wyatt. That’s six people, Mommy!” Emma wiggled six fingers at Macy. “Won’t that be fun?” Emma was of the “the more the merrier” school of thought.
Macy wondered whose bright idea this had been. For the second time that day, she was being railroaded into spending time with someone via her daughter’s enthusiasm. This had to stop. But when she looked into Emma’s eyes and saw how happy she was, she had to smile back at her. “It sure will be!” she lied.
“So let’s go! Grandma says to get your rear in gear!” Emma skipped off to Max’s room, sounding the alarm for him next.
Macy sighed and pulled herself off the bed, sliding the guest book from its hiding place and putting it back in its place on her nightstand. She decided what her next sketch for him would be: her by the ocean, praying, the wind blowing her hair back. She was praying to find him. She thought if he took one look at the picture, he would know that. That was how it had always been between them — a connection that existed beyond words and explanations. The pictures said it all. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’ talk about it now. She walked out of her room and toward her daughter’s excitement and a night with her family.
The Guest Book Page 15