Single with Twins

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  Emma sighed. “Yes, I know, but…”

  “No,” Heather said. “No more. We’ve discussed it and there’s no more to say on the subject. Let’s finish our dinners, then have those yummy chocolate brownies that are waiting for us.”

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” Emma said.

  “Me neither,” Melissa said, “and I don’t want any stupid brownies.”

  “Melissa, you’re being rude,” Heather said. “We invited Uncle Mack to share a home-cooked meal. Let’s not spoil the occasion by being grumpy. We want Uncle Mack to remember this dinner with pleasant thoughts, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, I suppose,” Melissa said, then picked up her fork. “And chocolate brownies aren’t really stupid.”

  “That’s better,” Heather said, smiling. “Emma? Your fork, please?”

  Emma did as instructed with a loud, dramatic sigh and the consuming of the meal resumed. Quietly. Very, very quietly.

  Heather concentrated on choking down the remainder of her dinner, keeping her eyes averted from Mack’s.

  You could make being our daddy your dream, Uncle Mack.

  Emma’s heartfelt words echoed in Heather’s mind and she willed them to disappear, to leave her in peace. If Mack was the twins’ daddy, that would mean he would be her husband…forever and ever. Oh, such a foolish notion. She had to listen to her own instructions to the girls and accept what could not be changed. She knew that.

  Time after time in her life, to love, to believe in forever, had brought her heartache and tears. The pattern had been set in motion when she was still an infant, when her mother had abandoned her. Then her beloved grandmother had died, resulting in an endless series of goodbyes as she was shuffled from one foster home to the next.

  She’d lowered her emotional guard when she’d met Frank Marshall, and where had that gotten her? Sobbing in the long, dark nights again, struggling to gather the pieces of her shattered heart.

  Heather sighed inwardly and gave up the attempt to finish her dinner.

  The bleak pattern of her existence had been broken once, just once, with the birth of her beautiful daughters. The love they all shared was forever and ever, and for that she was grateful beyond measure.

  But she firmly believed that the blessing of the twins was all she was meant to have. It consumed the maternal section of her heart.

  But the part of her that was just a woman? There was no forever-and-ever love for the woman within her. To love was to lose, to be abandoned, to cry in the night and to try desperately to hold together her heart that had once again been smashed to smithereens. That was just how it was, and the truth was etched in stone for all time. Yes, just like Melissa and Emma, she had to accept what could not be changed.

  And she had.

  And would continue to do so.

  So, no, she thought, sliding a quick glance at Mack, even if whatever was steadily growing between her and Mack Marshall grew even more, then blossomed into love, she wouldn’t embrace that emotion. No. She would ignore it, allow it to dim, then die from lack of nurturing, because never again—never—was she going to cry in the dark, lonely night, then search for the scattered fragments of her broken heart.

  “Well,” Heather said, forcing a lightness to her voice that she definitely didn’t feel, “I think everyone’s tummy is full. Shall we have the brownies later? Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you girls like to go out front and play while I clean up the kitchen?”

  “’Kay,” Melissa said, sliding off of her chair. “Can I go to Buzzy’s and show him my new baseball?”

  “Yes, you may,” Heather said. “Invite Buzzy to play catch in our yard. Emma, you can sit on the carpet square under the tree and try the new clothes on your Barbie doll. It’s a lovely evening. Uncle Mack and I will get the lawn chairs and join you out front. In fact, you could do that now, Mack.”

  “No, I’ll help you put away the food,” he said.

  “That’s not necessary,” Heather said, still not looking at him. “You’re our guest tonight.”

  Emma got to her feet. “Do you want to come outside now, Uncle Mack?”

  “No, I’ll wait for your mother,” he said.

  “’Kay,” Emma said. “Come on, Melissa.”

  The girls hurried out of the kitchen and Heather got to her feet quickly, picking up plates as she moved.

  “You just sit right there where you are, Mack,” she said. “This chore will be completed faster if I do it alone, because I have a set routine, know where everything goes. I’m…I’m accustomed to being alone and…and that’s fine, just fine. Yes, alone is good because…”

  Mack pushed back his chair, got to his feet, and took the plates from Heather’s hands. She slowly, very slowly, met his gaze.

  “Heather,” Mack said quietly, “I’m sorry, so damn sorry. You must be furious with me, even wishing that I’d never searched for you, found you, because I’ve upset your daughters, brought them close to tears.

  “I feel like a villain because my presence here gave the twins a false hope that…just being their Uncle Mack isn’t enough and that’s very humbling, believe me. I sincerely apologize for disrupting the peaceful existence you had with your girls. If you want me to leave Tucson tonight, I will. It’s up to you and I’ll do whatever you decide is best.”

  No! Heather thought, icy panic rushing through her. She didn’t want Mack to leave. Not yet. She wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to him. Not yet. Oh, no, Mack, please, not yet.

  Heather took the plates back from Mack, carried them to the counter, then plunked them down. She turned to meet his troubled gaze.

  “If parents…that is, if people headed for the hills,” she said, “every time children cornered them with something that was difficult or uncomfortable to deal with, those adults wouldn’t be home very much.”

  “But…”

  “No, please, hear me out,” Heather said, raising one hand. “The girls presented their plan. We, you and I, discussed it, then gave them an answer. They didn’t like what they heard, but they will accept it, just as they have other challenges they’ve presented to me in the past.

  “You certainly don’t have to leave Tucson earlier than you planned because the twins are momentarily upset, Mack. As the old cliché goes, ‘This, too, shall pass.’ End of story.”

  “Are you sure?” Mack said, frowning.

  “Trust me,” Heather said. “Now then, if you’ll sit down out of my way, I’ll have this kitchen cleaned in a jiffy and we can go outside and enjoy a lovely spring evening.”

  Mack nodded, then sank onto one of the chairs at the table, absently rubbing his left shoulder as he stared into space. Several minutes went by in total silence as Heather cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher.

  “Of course, there’s another side to this coin, Mack,” Heather said finally as she began to place leftovers in plastic containers. “Maybe you’d prefer to leave Tucson now. You’re under no obligation to weather this temporary emotional storm the girls have stirred up.”

  Mack snapped his head around to look at Heather. “No,” he said much too loudly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you, but leaving earlier than I planned isn’t even close to what I want to do.”

  “Well, then,” Heather said, shrugging. “That settles it, doesn’t it?” She paused. “Just how long do you see yourself staying? You’ve been rather vague about it.”

  Mack glanced at the calendar on his watchband. “I’m supposed to see the doctor in New York about my shoulder two weeks from tomorrow. He’s not too thrilled with me that I left the city in the first place, so…well, I guess I’d fly out two weeks from today so I’d be there on time for the appointment.”

  “I see,” Heather said quietly. “Is your shoulder healing properly?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “I’ve never been shot before, which is a miracle when I really stop and think about it. I’m fortunate to be alive when I look back at some of the ridiculous risks I took t
o take a photograph I was so damn determined to have.” He shook his head. “It always seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  Heather stacked the paper place mats on the end of the counter, then began to wipe off the table.

  “You sound as though you’re a bit angry at yourself for how you’ve operated in the past,” she said. “Those risks earned you many awards and worldwide recognition. That’s got to be worth a great deal to you.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Heather.” Mack sighed. “This isn’t the proper time for me to be examining my life, I suppose. I’m not up to par physically and I’m so tired of the pain this wound is causing. I’m just worn out. Let’s change the subject. I must be coming across as a whiny kid.”

  Her chores completed, Heather sat at the table, opposite Mack.

  “No, you aren’t,” she said, meeting Mack’s gaze directly. “Not that you asked, but I personally think this is a good time to take a hard look at your existence, to decide if you want to continue to lay your life on the line. Once your wound is healed, you might just go on as before, sort of set on automatic.” She smiled. “How’s that for not minding my own business?”

  “I value your opinion,” Mack said, “and I’ll definitely think about what you just said. Hey, you’ve got one coming as far as minding my business. I’m the guy who told you to wear your hair falling free like it is now, instead of in a braid. Now that’s pushy.” He reached over and sifted some of Heather’s hair through his fingers. “But it really is beautiful. A silky, ebony waterfall.”

  “Thank you,” Heather said, hardly above a whisper.

  Mack slowly, very slowly, withdrew his hand from her hair and flattened his palm on the table.

  “Why have you worn your hair loose since I asked you to?” he said.

  “Oh, well, I…” Heather started, then frowned and stopped speaking. “No, let’s be honest here. I’m a woman, not just a mother. I like feeling beautiful and feminine, even though it’s for a short time. And when I wear my princess dress on Friday night, I’m going to be…” She laughed. “…so gorgeous just like Cinderella was after being visited by the fairy godmother.”

  “There you go,” Mack said, matching her smile. “Whew. Talk about pressure. I’ve got to measure up to being a Prince Charming on Friday night.”

  “No-o-o-o problem,” Heather said. “After all, we already know that you’re cute and a hunk of stuff because Susie said so. I think that puts you in the princely department.”

  Mack chuckled, then became serious in the next moment. He reached across the table and covered Heather’s left hand with his right.

  “You’re an incredible woman, Heather Marshall,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. “You’re so honest and real and…you have tremendous fortitude, inner strength, yet you’re gentle and…I like you very, very much, and care about you, what happens to you. I want you to be happy, to have your dream of owning a home come true, because you deserve that and much more. I’m very grateful that I found you, Heather.”

  Oh, gracious, Heather thought frantically, she was about to cry. Mack sincerely meant every word he was saying. She knew he did because of the expression on his face and the emotions shining in the depths of his dark, compelling eyes.

  He had just praised her as a person, a woman, and she was going to wrap it all around her like a warm, comforting blanket that she could reach for when he was gone, when her day-to-day responsibilities became cold and heavy.

  “I…I like you, too, Mack Marshall,” she said, hoping her voice was steady. “And I care about what happens to you in the future.” She managed to produce a small smile. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t get shot again because I don’t have time in my busy schedule to have a nervous breakdown worrying about you.”

  “Oh, okay,” he said, releasing her hand and folding his arms over his chest. “I’ll cross getting shot off my agenda.” He shook his head. “Believe me, it’s not something I’d ever want to repeat. That thing about your life passing before your eyes is true when you think you’re about to die. Well, it was for me, at least.

  “Oh, sweet Heather, you continually give me the gift of your honesty when we talk. I’m going to tell you something that is straight from my heart, completely honest, something I didn’t think I’d ever tell another living soul because it…it’s wimpy, about as far from machismo as a guy can get.”

  Heather nodded. “I’m listening.”

  “When I was shot,” he said, his voice gritty, “I knew that I sure as hell didn’t want to die there in the dirt in that godforsaken place. What was really ripping me up, causing the darkest depression I’ve ever experienced, was the fact that if I did die…” He stopped to take a shuddering breath.

  “If you did die…what?” Heather said gently, her heart aching as she saw the flicker of raw pain cross Mack’s features then settle into his eyes.

  “If I died,” he said, “no one…no one…would…no one would cry.”

  “Oh, Mack,” Heather said, unable to keep tears from filling her eyes.

  “That’s why I had to find you, don’t you see?” he said. “Find you, the girls, my family. I had to know that there was at least a chance… God, this is weird…but I had to know that someone would cry if I died.”

  He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment to regain control of his raging emotions, then looked at Heather again. “I can’t believe I just told you that, but…but I’m glad I did because…hell, I don’t know why I’m glad I shared that with you. Ho-boy, I think I’m actually slipping over the edge of my sanity here.”

  “I’m very honored that you told me,” Heather said softly. “And I understand, I truly do, what you were saying, how you felt at that moment when you believed you were going to die. I’ve been completely alone in this world in the past and it’s so empty, chilling, so very stark.

  “At different points in my life if I had disappeared off the face of the earth, if I had died, there would have been no one…no one to cry. That is loneliness with a depth so deep it’s hard to describe.

  “Now? I have my daughters and we’ll love one another forever and ever, unconditionally. God forbid that something should happen to me, but if it did, Melissa and Emma would miss me, they would cry.”

  Mack nodded.

  “You’re not alone anymore, Mack,” Heather went on. “You have a family now. If you…died, the girls would be devastated, would most definitely cry about the loss of their wonderful Uncle Mack. I hope that knowing that brings you some comfort.”

  “It does, believe me,” he said. “And you, Heather? Would you cry if I died?”

  A sudden image of a shadowy cemetery flashed in Heather’s mental vision and she saw herself staring at a headstone with tears streaming down her face.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I would cry.”

  Heather and Mack looked at each other. What should have been a gloomy moment, the talk of death, of mourning, was instead a sharing, growing moment of greater understanding, of baring souls and telling secrets they knew would be safely kept. It was a moment that caused a gentle warmth to consume them. It was a moment that would never be forgotten.

  But then the warmth shifted, changed, became the now-familiar heat of desire, churning within them, building, causing hearts to race and breaths to quicken.

  “Ah, Heather,” Mack said, breaking the crackling silence, “I want you so damn much. Maybe you don’t wish to hear that, but sitting here we’ve been so honest with each other that I have to tell you how very, very much I desire you, and want to make love with you.”

  “I…”

  “No, you don’t have to say anything,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not pushing you about it. I…”

  “Mom!” Melissa yelled in the distance.

  Heather jerked in her chair at the sudden loud noise, then shifted to turn toward the living room.

  “Yes, Melissa?” she called. “What is it?”

  “Are you and Uncle Mack coming outside soon? Buzzy and
his mom are here, and Grandma Hill, and Mr. and Mrs. Garcia, and…and just everybody from the block came over to meet our Uncle Mack and…guess what?…they want his autograph! Isn’t that really cool?”

  Mack groaned and rolled his eyes heavenward.

  “We’ll be right there, Melissa,” Heather said.

  “’Kay,” Melissa hollered. “I’ll tell ’em.”

  Heather laughed as she got to her feet. “Your public awaits, sir. You mustn’t disappoint your fans. You’re probably very accustomed to it, but isn’t it at least a little bit exciting that people want your autograph?”

  “Not really,” Mack said, rising. “It’s never made any sense to me why someone would want a person’s name scrawled on a piece of paper. It’s a very strange custom.”

  “But it’s part of the world you exist in,” Heather said as they started toward the front door.

  “I suppose,” Mack said.

  A world, Heather thought, as a dark cloud seemed to settle above her, that was far, far away from this shabby little street in Tucson, Arizona.

  Chapter Nine

  Early Friday evening Mack stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom in his hotel room and shaved for a second time that day.

  A princess, he decided, should not go to a fancy restaurant escorted by a would-be prince with a five-o’clock shadow.

  He began to hum off-key as he pulled the razor through the foam on his cheeks.

  It had been a great week, he thought, and he really liked the people who lived on Heather’s street and made up the pseudo family she adored.

  Mack replayed the previous days in his mind as he continued to shave.

  Monday night’s impromptu block party set a delightful pattern for the week.

  On Tuesday, Mack took Heather, the twins and Buzzy to a fast-food restaurant for hamburgers, then they returned to the house where Mack and Heather sat in lawn chairs while the children played in the yard. The neighbors wandered down the street to join them, chairs in tow, and lively conversation took place until it was bath and bedtime for the kids.