“Why don’t you want me to go get Larry?” I wondered aloud.
Mac groaned, and my muscles tensed, preparing to dive out of the splash zone should the need arise. But she only admitted, “Because she watched every time I grabbed a new bottle and told me to slow down at least three times with ahandful of knowing looks and one very telling eye roll thrown in for good measure.”
I nodded even though Mac couldn’t see it. “Gotcha. Trying to avoid the familial ‘I told you so.’”
“Exactly,” she agreed and then forced another slow breath through faded red lips. “I don’t want her to know I fucked up and she was right about it. That’s probably why I drank so damn much in the first place.”
“To prove her wrong?”
Mac swallowed with a concerted effort. “Yeah.”
Quiet settled around us, and I was surprised at how comfortable it was. Mac was warm against my side. I hardly noticed the cold anymore. There was only the scent of woodsmoke and about a million stars overhead. No witnesses to whatever unexpected peace was happening between us.
“I’m tired of making decisions—the wrong fucking decisions—because I’m always overreacting or overcorrecting based on someone else.” Mac’s voice didn’t disrupt the night so much as part it neatly around us, creating a bubble of honesty—an alternate dimension where we shared truths with one another instead of spite. “But at least then I can blame things on them and not myself.”
For once in my loudmouthed existence, I had no idea what to say. Part of me worried that if I spoke or even breathed too loudly, she’d remember I was here and stop talking altogether. I’d never heard Mac sound so open or vulnerable. I didn’t know she was capable of it.
Mac continued unprompted, “Drinking too much because Larry warned me off. Half-assing everything at the farm because Will doesn’t expect any better from me. Living with my grandparents because that’s what’s easy.”
My heart had picked up again with each confession. I knew it was the alcohol talking. She was so far gone that she likely wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow. I should make myself get up and leave. Give her privacy for whatever she was going through.
But then Mac said, “Dating all these guys because Brady Judd gives me shit over them,” and I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
Truthfully, I didn’t think I could move. I felt rooted to the ground, a painful spike of realization holding my limbs hostage. “What?” I choked out. In contrast, my own voice sounded rough and unpracticed. It destroyed the illusion of peace and cut through the quiet night like a rusty blade.
Head tipped back and eyes still closed, Mac snorted, and a twisted sort of amusement lit her features. “Remember last month at the farmers’ market? David came to pick me up.”
I rifled through my memories of working the Judd’s booth on Main Street back in September and came up with the image of a generic man in his early thirties with brown hair, khaki pants, and zero personality. The guy—David, apparently—had been meeting Mac to take her on a daytime date, of all things. I’d been nosy and taken the opportunity to rile Mac up over this guy who’d been so obviously wrong for her. I’d introduced myself and made some crack about him being her new boyfriend and how he shouldn’t feed her after midnight. Mac had gotten steamed, and we’d traded insults before she’d stormed off with a very dazed-looking David in tow.
Confused, I asked, “The dentist?”
“Yeah,” she confirmed. “The dentist. That was our first and only date, did you know that?”
I couldn’t remember seeing them together after that day, but that wasn’t unusual for Mac. She dated randomly in fits and starts. The guys never lasted long. I had a theory that she got bored with them—that they never measured up. None of these generic Davids or Toms or Noahs could hold her attention for long.
Before I could answer, the sardonic smile fell off her face, and she admitted woodenly, “I went home with him. And when I snuck out of his house later that night, I hated myself because I knew I didn’t even like the guy that much. When he called me to ask me out again, I lied and told him we were in different places. I said I wasn’t ready for anything serious instead of telling him the truth ... that I fucked him to prove a point, one that didn’t even matter.”
I felt the color drain from my face and a hollow open up in my stomach. Suddenly, I was the one in danger of being sick. I thought—I thought?—
“You know,” Mac said sleepily, “I’m tired of making mistakes for everybody else. It’s time I fucked up for myself for once.”
The combination of shock and self-loathing and jealousy I didn’t have any business feeling left me weak.
That day ... we’d been bickering like always. Maybe I’d been feeling a spike ofsomethingat seeing her with another guy. I never imagined that my teasing would prompt such a reaction from Mac. If I had known?—
“I’m sorry, MacKenzie,” I whispered, aching to reach for her, to make her open her eyes to really see me and hear me. “I didn’t mean it. I never?—”
I cut myself off, unsure how to put it into words, ones that justified the pain I’d caused.I thought we were on the same page. You gave as good as you got. I wanted you to notice me. I wanted to make sure you couldn’t forget about me like you forget about the rest of them.
Things between us had clearly gone too far.Ihad taken them too far. I’d hurt her, caused her to react the way she hated—in direct opposition to someone else. And in all that knowledge, I realized ... I had the power to hurt her in the first place.
Before I could put any part of that into words or figure out a way to apologize again, Mac’s mouth dropped open, and a broken snore filled the quiet. Her head drooped over and rested heavily against my shoulder. I stiffened, but she didn’t wake. Mac had fallen asleep on me—trusting and unaware—and I hated myself a little more.
My mind wandered back through years of arguments and mocking. I didn’t know how long I sat there with Mac’s soft snore in my ear and her confession churning a maelstrom in my middle. But I blinked back into awareness sometime later when a pair of black combat boots came into my field of vision.
I glanced up to see Mac’s cousin standing in front of us, eyes wide with obvious shock.
“Holy shit,” Larry breathed in reverent amusement. “This is the best day of my life.”
