Sometimes I forget that although I lost my parents, she lost her son.
“Whatever you did, he forgave you. He loved you and looked up to you. We’re human. We make mistakes,” I murmur, tears slipping down my face. “He loved you, Grandma. You were his mother, and he loved you.”
“No matter what you did, you shouldn’t regret it. It seemed to have strengthened your bond, and from what Mackie told me about your family, he’s right. Your son loved you very much. He wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over some mistakes. It’s human to error, but toadmit it and change who you are for the better shows true courage and love,” Noah says.
The noise she makes breaks my heart, and I wonder how long she has lived with this guilt. Tears slide down her cheeks, and I hate the pain she is in. She’s always been so strong, she never let me see her grief. She focused on me, and I wonder if she ever truly let herself feel it before now.
“Enough of this mushy shit, you pussies,” she mutters, wiping her eyes discreetly. Ignoring her words, I walk around the table and hug her, laying my head on her shoulder. “Mackie,” she admonishes, but then Noah joins us on the other side, hugging her, and she shakes in our arms, patting our hands. “He’s still on probation.”
We all laugh.
“I am so grateful you are my family,” I tell her. “I can’t bring him back for you, but I promise you’ll never be alone. I’ll love you enough for both of us.”
“And besides, you have a whole garage of sons to look after,” Noah murmurs. “I’m sure they’d love your cooking, and with your potty mouth, you’d fit right in.”
She laughs again, and her smile is like sunshine breaking through a cloudy day.
In my kitchen, something heals in both of us, and I think in Noah as well.
An unbreakable bond forms between the dismissed son, the orphaned son, and the grieving mother.
THIRTY-NINE
Mackie has been with Noah for a few days. It was obvious they needed it, so I didn’t mind, but as we walk hand in hand toward my house, I’m happy. I missed him a lot. I try not to think about what they did together. Their relationship is separate from ours. Yeah, it’s a learning curve, but when he looks at me and smirks like I’m his entire world, nothing else matters.
It’s Sunday, so we plan to have a lazy day and just spend it together. We went to the grocery store this morning on a date and bought some baking stuff, and I’m excited to have Mackie fill my house with his happiness and energy.
“What are you going to make me?” he teases as he swings our joined hands.
“Hmm, it depends. Are you going to behave?” He laughs as he nudges me away, making me grin. When I look up, my smile fades and my heart skips a beat when I see them.
I freeze, guilt swallowing me, along with panic, as I stare at the couple standing in front of my door. “Mr. Davidson, Mrs. Davidson,” I whisper.
Mackie whirls around, knowing that name. He drops my hand and steps back, almost hiding behind me so they can’t see him.
“I’ll head home,” he whispers. “Tell them I’m your friend.” I feel him gearing up to leave, but I reach back and drag him to my side.
“Conan!” they greet warmly. “Sorry for dropping by unannounced. We were in the city and thought we could have a meal.” Trisha looks at Mackie and smiles warmly. “Hi, I’m Trisha, and this is Robert.”
“Hi,” Mackie replies awkwardly, and I see Trisha glancing down to where I’m holding Mackie’s wrist. Something enters her eyes as she looks up at me. I wait for the backlash, but she simply smiles. “Maybe your friend could join us?”
“Oh no, that’s okay. I’m sure you have catching up to do,” Mackie rushes out. “I’ll talk to you later, Conan.”
“Stay, please,” I request softly as I look at him, imploring with my eyes. Despite how awkward this will be, he lets me take his hand. “Please.”
Frowning, he looks between us before nodding, and I step past them, unlocking the door and letting them in.
Mackie follows and helps me put the bags on the counter, but he’s quiet and unsure. Blowing out a breath, I look at Trisha and Robert, my husband’s parents. I never want Mackie to feel uncomfortable or think I’m hiding us.
“Trisha, Robert, this is Mackie, my boyfriend,” I say. Mackie’s eyes widen as he looks at them, and we both wait, frozen and scared. I wouldn’t blame them for being angry. They love their son, always will, and I promised to love him for life.
Trisha smiles softly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mackie,” she says kindly.
Robert grunts, since he isn’t one for speaking, and I smile. “I was going to bake but I can make a pasta dish. Is that okay?”
“Oh, you don’t have to cook,” Trisha says, wringing her hands. “We dropped by unannounced.”
“You are always welcome here, you know that,” I assure her. “It’s no trouble. Mackie can help. It won’t be long, so go take a seat.”
