Chapter 21

Over the last few days, Macy had been walking around, seeming as unable to settle into herself as she had been before we'd taken that fateful hike that had completely changed the dynamic between us. I couldn't tell whether it was entirely due to her on-and-off sickness or just the fact that she really missed her mom, since she told me that she really wanted to talk to her and I'd advised against it.

I'd asked her a few times if there was anything I could do to help her feel better, and every time, she'd told me that there was nothing—that she was just feeling off and she just needed to wait for it to pass. I couldn't help thinking that perhaps her cabin fever might've been building up again, and I needed to relieve the stress.

That morning, she was flitting around the kitchen, seemingly unable to sit down for a second. Her inability to relax was making me feel unsettled, and I felt like if I could just get her to calm down for a second, then things might feel better.

"You sure you should have another cup of coffee, Macy?" I asked, looking over at her.

"I couldn't really sleep last night," she said, filling the mug to the brim with fresh hot coffee. Knowing how strong Macy made the coffee, she would probably be bouncing off the walls for the rest of the morning.

I got up from my desk and went over to where she was standing at the counter, setting my hand on her shoulder. "I'm gonna head into town right now. Do you need anything?"

She shook her head, keeping her hands clenched. I could feel the tension throughout her back as I ran my hands over her shoulders.

"I don't need anything. Thanks, though." She looked up at me, and when she raised her eyebrow, I knew she meant trouble. "I might read on the porch. If that gives you a conniption, you might want to consider finding some restraints."

I blinked. We'd become accustomed to ragging on each other a lot, but she hadn't been as salty as this for a while. I needed to find a way to cut through it.

"Macy, the only way I'll ever restrain you is if you ask me to. Alright?"

I knew it was the right thing to say by the way the color started rising in her cheeks, and when she bit her lip and looked down, I felt satisfied that we were in a better place with each other than we had been. And it had been a gamble since I knew what she'd been through with Alex.

But… when that light appeared in her eyes, I couldn't help grinning back at her.

"I'm not going to tell you to do anything, but I'll leave my second cell phone with you, and I'm letting you know that I'll check in on the cameras that I have trained on the outside of the house. Is that okay with you?"

She nodded. "Fine. I'll agree to that."

I reached down and kissed her, quickly but deeply, and was satisfied when I felt her mouth open under mine. She moaned a little bit, reaching around to clutch my arm. I pulled away, feeling good when she chased my mouth with hers.

"I'll see you soon," I said, pressing her to me once more before heading out.

Alex was nowhere to be found in town that day, in spite of the fact that I drove everywhere I could think of to look for him. Maybe he'd finally given up and moved on. But I didn't think that was the case. I had a bad feeling about the fact that I couldn't find him, but I didn't have a lot of time to think about it. I was anxious to get back home, particularly now that Macy had outright told me that she would be spending time outside today.

Honestly, she had a point about me being controlling, and I knew I couldn't be hounding her all the time. The only real power I had was the power she'd given me by allowing me to help her, and I wasn't interested in abusing the privilege, unlike the scumbag who'd broken her trust.

And yet, none of that changed the fact that my awareness of her was heightened to a degree I'd never experienced in my life. Not only did I want to be able to protect her, but I wanted her to think of me as worthy of protecting her.

As I hit all of the usual stops throughout town where I'd gotten used to seeing Alex, I decided I should text Hank to keep an eye out for him. I made my last stop at the grocery store, picking up a few things to take back home with me before heading back.

When I got home, I was relieved to see that Macy had gone inside and was walking around the kitchen, evidently not having been able to relax. I shook my head, grinning, as I walked inside with the bags from the store. She turned around to see me, giving me a tight smile, and I went over to wrap my arms around her.

"You doing, okay?" I asked, looking down at her.

She nodded. "Just restless, I guess."

I nodded. "Well, I have an idea for something we could do that might cut through that."

"What's that?"

I grinned. "How about you let me take you out on a date?"

* * *

Looking at Macy's relaxed face in the sunlight made the risk completely worth it, and the flashes of light playing over her hair, turning it rosy and ruby and maple-colored, had me hypnotized. She reached down to the picnic basket and pulled out a slice of bread, spreading a layer of the creamy cheese over it and laying a slice of salami over that. She'd looked shocked when I'd asked her on a date, but when I told her what we were doing, her answering smile had been enough to light up the entire town of Singer's Ridge.

"How did you find this spot?" she asked, gesturing out over the view in front of us. We were at a little overlook about half a mile from the cabin, shaded in by trees that were so overhung with moss it looked like they had their own hairdos.

"It was Bucky. He got away from me one day, and when I tracked him down, he was just sitting on the ledge, looking out over the view."

"He's a dog of taste," she said, grinning.

I smiled, thinking about how it had actually been Bucky who had brought us together by walking up to her that day at the market. If not for him, I didn't know that I ever would've noticed her, and then remembered her when I saw her outside my cabin. "That he is."

I took the opportunity to relish her and how beautiful she was. Opening her eyes, she smiled, holding out the bread to me. Instead of taking it from her, I leaned in and ate it from her hand, going as far as to lick soft cheese from her fingers. I loved the way it triggered one of her easy blushes.

"I have to admit, I had no idea you had the romantic gene," she said, pulling her fingers away from my mouth.

I had a minute to decide what to do with the prompt, and I knew that the choice would define the rest of how we related to each other.

"Yeah. It's recessive," I said, unable to look at her as I looked down at my feet. "I guess that's what happens when your dad walks out on you and your mom before he shows you any affection."

I didn't look at her, but I could feel her pull her knees into her chest. "Do you know why he left?"

I chanced a look at her. "He and my mom were young and wayward when they met. She grew up here, but she ran off to Memphis the first chance she got. Wanted to go to Graceland and all that."

She nodded at me, smiling invitingly for me to continue. The fact that she wasn't interjecting anything made me feel like I had the liberty to share, as opposed to being forced to share.

"My dad was a barback for one of the blues clubs out there, and they met when my mom became a waitress. They were young and into music and the scene out there, and they didn't have a lot of money, but they wanted to follow their dreams. And then I came along."

I'd thought this over so many times that it had long stopped hurting, but something about opening up to her brought the tears to my eyes. I blinked them away as I told her the whole story.

"Both of them were pretty into drugs at that point—heroin, I think. That whole rocker lifestyle. But when my mom found out she was pregnant, she decided she was going to get clean, and she did. And she asked my dad to, but he mostly half-assed it, just like he half-assed being a dad."

"Do you remember him?" They were her first words in a while, and they were quiet and gentle.

"A little. I remember that he would play guitar to get me to sleep and that he was fun. But I also remember him being asleep on the couch and not being able to wake him up. That was when he was high, I think."

"How old were you when he left?"

"Around seven," I said. "And the thing was, he hadn't been present enough in my life for me to really notice the difference. My uncle Rick, who lived out here, had been more a dad to me than he ever was. But my mom…" My throat tightened, as it always did when I thought of the young woman who, even in the midst of addiction, had had eyes that shone with love and beauty for her son.

"How did you end up out here with Rick?" she asked.

"My dad's leaving did something to my mom. She just never was able to get past it, and she relapsed pretty quickly after that. Rick came out to Memphis to try to take care of us, and he moved us from the really shitty apartment where we'd been staying to a better one. He sent us money to pay rent and got us on food stamps, but none of it was enough." I swallowed hard. "I was the one who found her when she OD'd. I'd come home from school, and there was a pot of pasta that was overcooking on the stove, so I went to turn it off, but when I called for her, she didn't answer. Then I found her in the bathroom."

I practically felt her soft exhale.

"I went to the neighbor—he was this really nice older guy who would sometimes sit with me and teach me chess while my mom was at work. He was the one who called the police, and then Rick. He came out that night to bring me back to the Ridge."

"Rick sounds like a really, really good man," she said, her eyes soft and wide.

"He was." I swallowed hard, and I looked up at her, unable to help my defensiveness. "But my mom was a good person too. She really loved me."

"I never thought she didn't," she said, inching forward to sit next to me and slip her hand under my hands. "It sounds like she had a very loving heart, and a lot of pain."

That had been one of the best descriptions of my mother I'd ever heard, and it made the fissure along my heart fragment. "I've never stopped missing her. Even after she left me all alone like that."

She shook her head. "Nobody sets out to become addicted to drugs, and she didn't choose to abandon you. And moreover, no one chooses to love their parents. You come into the world that way. I'd have way more concerns if you didn't love her."

I looked at her, my eyes wide in amazement. I didn't know why I was so surprised, but it felt like an incredible twist that I was able to talk to her about this part of myself that I'd only told to two other people. It made me think that I might actually be able to tell her more.

I pulled her into my lap, twisting my hands into her hair and kissing her deeply, more thankful than ever that she'd come to my door.