Days Like This

by Laurie Breton

  The smile hadn’t reached his mouth yet, but she could see it in his eyes. “I’ve noticed.”

  “It’s not funny, MacKenzie! Did you know you have the sexiest feet of any man I’ve ever known? How sick is that, that I’m obsessing over your feet? Did you know that all day long, while I’m paying bills and scrubbing the damn toilet and writing music and arguing with your daughter and sitting in those endless, horrible library committee meetings, what I’m really doing is counting the hours until bedtime? Because none of the rest of it is real. The only thing that’s real is being in your arms, and it doesn’t matter whether we’re dancing in the dark, or having screaming sex, or if we’re just lying in bed listening to each other’s heartbeat. It’s all the same, because all that matters is that I’m with you, in that magic world we’ve created that’s just ours, and there’s nowhere else I’ll ever want to be again. And I’ve probably said way too much, but you needed to hear it.”

  She paused, took a hard, sharp breath. “There’s one more thing I have to say, and then I’ll be done. After everything we’ve been to each other, I am appalled that you would even entertain the notion that I’d ever want to go back to him. Yes, I loved him, and yes, it broke my heart when he died. But that doesn’t mean I’d want to be married to him again. I’m not eighteen any more. I’m thirty-five, and the choices you make at thirty-five are not the same ones you made at eighteen. If you haven’t heard anything else I’ve said today, MacKenzie, this is the part you’d damn well better listen to. If, by some miracle, he was resurrected, and he walked through that door right now, and he asked me to leave you and take him back, I’d laugh at him. I would laugh at him! And it wouldn’t matter if he asked me a hundred times, or a thousand. My answer wouldn’t change. I would never walk away from you, not in a million years. Not for him, not for anybody on this planet. Do you hear what I’m saying? I would tell him no. I would pick you. Every goddamn time. I would always pick you! If you were to walk out that door, right here, right now, there’d never be anybody else for me ever again. My heart would be irrevocably broken, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men wouldn’t be able to put it together again. Because it’s just you, MacKenzie. Just you! So if you ever leave me—today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now—you’d best have a burial plot all prepared, because that will be the day I take my final breath!”

  She turned blindly to flee. “Wait,” he said, “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “I can’t be near you right now.”

  “Come back here!”

  “No!”

  She’d almost reached the bedroom door when his fingers closed around the belt to her robe and brought her to a dead halt. “Damn it, stop!” he said fiercely, and then his arms came around her from behind, and he pulled her tight against him. Breathing heavily, he whispered against her hair, “Stop.”

  She took a ragged breath. “Why should I?”

  “Because I love you. Because I’m an idiot. Because—” He paused, his breath fluttering the hair at her temple. “—if you ever leave me—today, tomorrow, a hundred years from now—you’d best have a burial plot all prepared, because that will be the day I take my final breath.”

  She closed her eyes against the flood of tears, but it did no good. They fell anyway, huge, fat drops that rolled down her cheeks and plopped to the floor. She found his hands, threaded fingers with his, heard his sigh of relief.

  “I’m still furious with you,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “I’ll probably be furious with you again at some point in the next fifty-nine years.”

  He kissed the top of her head, rested his cheek against her hair. Said brokenly, “I know.”

  “Quite possibly more than once. Considering our track record.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You can be furious with me as often as you need to. Just as long as you don’t leave me.”

  “Love,” she said. “It’s such an odd duck. It’s a continuum. I’ve loved you forever, and when we got married, I knew we’d moved to a different place on that continuum. I just didn’t realize how far I’d moved. Until you left for those six weeks, and being without you was torture. It took me a while to figure out why. Looking back over the years, I don’t know why it was such a shock to me when I realized how long I’d been in love with you. And how far I’d fallen.”

  “I didn’t mean to doubt you. I just went a little crazy. I’ve always felt like sloppy seconds. I could never measure up to Danny—”

  “For God’s sake, MacKenzie.” She turned in his arms and met his eyes. “How can you not know that you are so much more than he ever was?”

  “Look at him. Then look at me, and tell me how that’s possible.”

  “Oh, he had a beautiful face, no doubt about that. The kind of face that turned heads and made women cry. But on the inside, where it counted, he was empty. He was a good man, and I loved him desperately, but there was something missing. I don’t know if it was always missing, or if Vietnam stole it from him. He was broken, in ways you don’t even know about. Maybe I’ll tell you someday.” She reached up, touched his face with the tips of her fingers. “But you, MacKenzie, you have so much beauty on the inside, where it counts. Some people, the gods and goddesses of this world, are able to get by on their looks. The rest of us ordinary mortals have to learn to develop a beautiful interior, and that’s what you have. Not that there’s anything wrong with your exterior. I’m quite fond of it. And so proud to pass your DNA on to our kids.”

  He let out a soft, self-deprecating laugh.

  “I’m serious. And yes, Danny was talented. He had a voice that could rip your heart to shreds. But without your talents, which are exponentially greater than his, do you really think he would have become the superstar he became? You put him there, my love. You may have been the man behind the curtain, but you were never second to him in any way. You are the wizard of all wizards, the great and powerful Oz. You know it, I know it, he knew it. So if I ever again hear you refer to yourself as sloppy seconds, I’ll slap you silly.”

  “I’m sorry I went off the deep end. But I didn’t know what to think, so of course, being the brooding jackass Irishman that I am, I thought the worst. You’ve been acting so crazy ever since I got back. Running hot and cold. Like some alien stepped in and took over your body.”

  “Yes, well, pregnancy will do that to a woman.”

  It took a full two seconds before she saw her words register in his eyes. “What?” he said.

  “You heard me, Flash. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to tell you, but your little tantrum blew my plans right out of the water.”

  “A baby?” he said, looking thunderstruck. “We made a baby? You and me?”

  “I can assure you there were no third parties involved.”

  “But—when? How?”

  “I trust you can figure out the answer to that second question. The answer to the first is sometime in late August or early September. Right before you left.”

  “So you’re—”

  “Ten weeks along. The baby’s due the first week of June.”

  “You’ve seen a doctor? Everything’s okay?”

  “That’s where I was coming from yesterday, when you saw me at the cemetery. And yes, everything is just fine. We did it, my love. She cupped his face in both hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “We did it!”

  Paige

  She’d actually had the crazy idea that when he cooled off, her father would return, he and Casey would have a tearful reunion, and everything would be back to normal. Hah! She was clearly a moron. Oh, he had come back, for sure. While she pretended to be asleep behind her closed bedroom door, he had rattled around the kitchen for ten minutes before he went upstairs to face his wife. But there was no tearful reunion. The shouting started within minutes. Even though she turned up the stereo to drown it out, she could still hear it. She couldn’t decipher their words, but who needed words when the voices spoke so clearly for thems
elves? So loud they could probably be heard down on Main Street?

  It was all in the toilet. Her whole life, swirling down the drain. First her mom, then Mikey, and now her new family was imploding. She’d been so angry and bitter when she came here. But her father and his wife had worn her down with their kindness. To her amazement, she’d actually thought that she and her dad were making headway. That they’d started to build a relationship. A connection. And Casey was big sister, mother, and best friend all rolled into one. Attentive and caring and fun in a way that Paige’s own mother had never been. Not that Sandy hadn’t cared. It was just the opposite. She’d cared too much, had felt the weight of responsibility too heavily. She’d spent her entire life overworked, overtired, and underappreciated. Those dark circles under her eyes had sunk deeper and deeper, until one day, they just swallowed her whole.

  Paige knew better than most that fairy tales weren’t real. Her mom’s death had taught her that. So why had she believed, for even one second, that she might find a real home here with these people? It looked like she’d been right all along about her old man, and the weight of disappointment lay heavy in her chest. How could she have trusted him? After Mikey ripped out her heart and shredded it, how could she have trusted any guy, ever again?

  Upstairs, the yelling continued, and she wrapped her pillow around her head to shut out the sound. She would probably end up homeless. Or worse, once Casey ousted them from her house and her life, she would be dependent on her old man to take care of her. Not that she needed to be taken care of. But barring emancipation, she had to answer to somebody until she turned eighteen. If what she’d witnessed tonight was any indication, his parenting skills probably weren’t any better than his relationship skills. And those needed some serious work. It was a shame that stupidity was going to sink his marriage, but it was pretty obvious that the ship was going down.

  Angry, she tossed the pillow onto the bed. “To hell with him,” she said to Leroy, who rolled his eyes and wagged his tail. “To hell with both of them. I bet if I left, they wouldn’t even notice I was gone.”

  Leroy wagged again, and she patted him absently while she gave the idea some thought. She could leave. Take Leroy, pack a suitcase, and never come back. Hit the open road, thumb out, and make a new start in some faraway, exotic place. If Mikey could do it, why couldn’t she?

  Paige sighed. Who was she kidding? The open road might sound exotic and alluring, but reality would prove otherwise. What she needed was to get away from the fighting. Maybe things would look better in the daylight. She could just drive around, killing time, until they stopped fighting and it was safe to come home. For as long as this was home. And who knew? Maybe Casey wouldn’t throw out the baby with the bath water. Maybe, in spite of Rob MacKenzie’s idiocy, she would let his daughter stay, at least until she was eighteen.

  Driving around aimlessly didn’t sound all that appealing. Not that she couldn’t handle the car. She’d practiced enough times with her father to know what she was doing behind the wheel. But driving around this little podunk town in the middle of the night would grow old very quickly. There had to be someplace she could go. She thought briefly of her Aunt Rose, but nixed that idea. After the debacle with Mikey, she couldn’t go there. It would be too painful, too humiliating. Aunt Trish would be a better choice. She was warm and nurturing and sweet. If Paige showed up at her door in the middle of the night, Trish would take her in, no questions asked. She’d feed her and give her a warm bed and let her vent if she wanted. That was the kind of person Trish was.

  Three months ago, leaving Boston had been so hard. Now, she barely missed the city. This place, this stupid, provincial, barren, dead-end spot at the far corner of the earth, had become home. She had family here, and that made all the difference. How could she have known?

  “Come on, Leroy,” she said. “Let’s blow this joint.”

  The dog jumped off the bed, eager to go wherever she was going. She clipped the leash to his harness, turned the stereo down to a minimal level, grabbed her coat and tiptoed into the kitchen. Standing in front of the key rack that hung on an end cabinet, she debated briefly. But there was no real debate. Her father would probably kill her when he found out, but she was taking the Porsche. It was the only car she’d ever driven, and besides, she liked the idea of pissing him off. He’d been planning to put the car in storage for the winter, but he hadn’t gotten to it yet. That was probably a good thing, because once Casey threw him out on his ass, he’d be driving it back to California anyway. Or, if not California, then wherever he ended up. Because there was no way he’d stay in Jackson Falls if he couldn’t be with Casey. She might only be fifteen, but she was smart enough to know that.

  It had stopped snowing, and the sky was clear. Leroy bounded enthusiastically through the soft, fluffy snow. There wasn’t that much accumulation. Only three or four inches, and she knew they’d plowed the roads, because she’d heard the plow going back and forth several times earlier in the evening. Paige blipped the locks, brushed the snow away from the door with an old broom she’d found in the shed, opened the driver’s door and deposited Leroy onto the passenger seat.

  She spent a couple of minutes sweeping snow off the car until her windows were clear, then she leaned the broom against the side of the house and got in the car. She fastened her seatbelt, ran the passenger-side belt through Leroy’s harness and clicked it. “Sorry, buddy,” she said, “but we have to keep you safe.” The engine roared when she started the car, and for a minute, she panicked. But their bedroom was on the opposite side of the big old house, and the way they were yelling, a 747 could crash in the yard and they wouldn’t even notice.

  The driveway was a slippery, slushy mess. When she reached the road, she gunned the motor a little to take her through the pile of crap left behind by the snowplow. The tires spun, and for a second, she thought she was going to get stuck. That would be just ducky, having to go back inside, climb the stairs, knock on that bedroom door, and tell her dad that his precious car was stuck in a snow bank at the end of the driveway.

  But at the last minute, the wheels found traction, and she made it out onto the road. She turned right out of the driveway, because that was the most direct route to Bill and Trish’s house. The windshield was fogged, and she cranked the blower and rubbed at the glass. It didn’t do much good, because she and Leroy were breathing inside the car, and it was so much warmer inside than it was outside that condensation hung heavy on the glass. Paige lowered her window. Cold air rushed in, freezing her, but this time, when she wiped the windshield, it stayed clear.

  Maybe this hadn’t been such a hot idea after all.

  There were no other cars around. Nobody else crazy enough to be out this late, on these back roads, directly after a storm. Although the road had been plowed, there was very little sand, and without snow tires, she had to fight to keep the car from spinning in circles. Sweat pooled under her arms, and she seriously considered turning around and going back home. But in this isolated rural paradise, there was no place to turn. Not even so much as a logging road between home and their nearest neighbors, Will and Millie Bradley. Their Meadowbrook Farm was two miles down the road. By the time she got there and could turn around, she’d be a half-mile from her destination, and turning would be pointless. So she forged on.

  She’d forgotten about the big hill. It loomed ahead of her, a quarter-mile of downhill gradient that led directly to the river. Paige stopped at the top, feeling like Jean-Claude Killy about to race down a packed-powder slope. She’d always wanted to learn to ski, she just hadn’t planned on doing it in a Porsche. Maybe she should park the damn thing by the side of the road and walk back to the house. But she was almost there, and the thought of that long trek in the cold was enough of a deterrent to keep her moving forward. She wasn’t a chicken. She was the fearless Paige MacKenzie. Hard as nails, and twice as stubborn. She had brakes, for Christ’s sake. No damn snow-covered hill was going to stop her.

  Inching forward
gingerly, she started down. The Porsche fishtailed and, heart hammering, she hit the brakes. When the car started to come around sideways, she realized her mistake and released them. She struggled with the steering wheel and the car righted itself. “Jesus,” she said on a hard exhalation of breath. “Hang on, Leroy.”

  With a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, she inched forward, hopscotching down the hill that had not a grain of sand on it. Brake and skid, brake and skid, brake and skid. If she made it through this alive, she was going to write a strongly-worded letter to the Jackson Falls Department of Public Works, which she suspected consisted of one plow truck driven by a member of the volunteer fire department. Granted, this was a back road with little traffic, but considering how many times she’d heard the plow pass the house, the hill should have been sanded.

  She would have made it if she hadn’t lost traction two-thirds of the way down, on the steepest portion of the hill. The car skidded left, then right. Paige tried to steer, but it was useless. Tried to brake, but that only brought the Porsche around sideways. She let up on the brakes and clutched the steering wheel in terror as the car gained momentum, speeding faster and faster in its sideways journey. Through the passenger window, she could see the outline of the telephone pole hurtling towards her, but there was nothing she could do except wait for death to come and take her.

  If she survived this, her dad was going to kill her.

  “Oh, shit,” she said, a split-second before impact.

  Casey

  Warm and drowsy beneath the covers, his arms tight around her as they spooned in the darkness, he said, “That was one epic declaration of love, Fiore.”

  “I’m so glad you liked it. Did I manage to get my point through that thick head of yours, or should I get a bigger sledgehammer? Because if the concept needs reinforcement, I could always take out a full-page ad in Rolling Stone. Maybe a big Valentine’s heart, with the words CASEY LOVES ROB stenciled across the center.”