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“Do you think you can squeeze past and get a cab?” Mackenzie asked.
I glanced up at the sky, where lightning lit it up, the dark clouds metallic above us.
“Worth a shot,” I said, and I stepped into the rain. In no time at all, I was drenched.
Mackenzie appeared beside me.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “You’ll get soaked.”
Thunder cracked loudly, and Mackenzie ducked. It wasn’t a big movement, just the slightest reaction. Was she scared of the storm? She’d put on a hell of a face for the kids.
“I’m not letting you go out there alone, I’m supposed to be the hostess.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, and we hunched our bodies against the wind and rain that pelted against our skins. I hadn’t seen a storm like this in LA in… ever, actually.
When we reached the tree, it was much bigger than I’d expected. It had torn out of the ground, the roots sticking up like crooked fingers, and the trunk had to be at least three feet in diameter, if not more.
It was lodged right up against the gate. Never mind squeezing past, the gate itself was partially buckled. That wasn’t going anywhere.
“This isn’t going to happen!” I shouted above the storm.
Lightning snapped dangerously close, and Mackenzie yelped.
“Come on, get back inside!” I shouted, and I grabbed her hand, yanking her with me. We ran back to the house as the storm raged overhead.
When we skidded into the house, we were both drenched and breathing hard. I shut the front door, blocking off the wind that had pushed its way into the house. Mackenzie shook her hands.
“What a fuck up,” she said. “You have insurance?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” I said.
Mackenzie nodded. “Good.” She worried her lower lip, and I wondered ifshehad insurance.
“You’re soaked,” she said before I could ask, looking me up and down. “Let’s get dried off.” She gestured for me to follow her, and we walked through the house.
It was an old house with dark wooden floors. At first glance, it looked antique. Now that I looked around again, it looked neglected and old. The paint peeled in certain places, and water damage had made a ring against the wall of a guest bathroom. The wooden floors were scuffed up, and everything had an air of abandon to it.
There was nostalgia here, too, though. I got the feeling the house looked like this, not because they didn’t care but because money was an issue.
“I don’t want to drip on the floors,” I said.
“I’ve got you,” Mackenzie said and disappeared into the kitchen, where she retrieved towels from the mudroom. She handed me one, and I wiped my face while Mackenzie squeezed the excess water out of her hair and clothes so we could walk on the wooden floors without leaving water marks.
When we were as dry as we were going to get, I followed her down the hallway. The walls were lined with photos of a happy family—kids in various stages of their lives, with various accomplishments and trophies. Holidays, laughter. This house knew a lot of happiness. In this house, it seemed happiness, family, memories… they all trumped a gleaming, immaculate home with the best of everything that money could buy.
I recognized Mackenzie in some of the photos when she was much younger.
“Did you grow up here?” I asked.
Mackenzie nodded. “Rachel took it over when my mom died so that she didn’t have to uproot me when everything had already changed so much.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. Losing someone was tough.
We walked into the master bedroom, and Mackenzie led me to the closet. The door creaked when she opened it.
“I think some of Aaron’s old clothes might still be back here. He was in and out so much, Rachel always made sure he had a set or two.”
“Aaron?” I asked.
