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I make a face. “No, geez, that’s where your mind goes?”
She shrugs like it’s a perfectly logical question.
“Mack, come on. Good grief.”
She shrugs again, then softens. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Emmy and I have only ever been friends,” I tell her. “But I guess she had some feelings. . .and she told me about them right after Lindsay disappeared.”
“What do you mean right after?”
I look up at her.
“Your wedding day?”
“Yeah.”
She sits back. “Go on.”
I tell Mack the whole story. I tell her about the dock, me yelling at the water, Emmy’s terribly timed confession, and my even worse reaction. I tell her that I’m pretty sure I blew my chance with her before I even knew I wanted it. I tell her that I doubt she’ll ever trust me after that, and really, I can’t blame her. I’m not even sure I trust myself.
Mack shakes her head. “I cannot believe she never told me.”
“Mack.”
“Sorry!” she says. “This is not about me. I know.” She goes quiet for a minute, then pulls out her phone. “I have an idea!”
“I don’t want you trying to play matchmaker.”
“Don’t you mean ‘Mack-maker’?” She waggles her eyebrows, and I roll my eyes.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask.
“I have a few days off,” she says with a smile. “I need a project.”
I groan because I really don’t want to be her next “project.”
She taps around on her phone, then messes with the volume, and in seconds, I’m listening to that blasted podcast episode again. As if the first time wasn’t enough.
“I already heard this,” I tell her. “The guys at the station—”
“Shhhh!”
This again?
This is the episode where The Hopeful Romantic recounts her idea of the perfect guy. I listen half-heartedly because I’ve heard it before, and I have thoughts, but my sister is eating it up.
“What point are you trying to make?”
“This woman might as well be Emmy,” she says. “This is the kind of stuff she says all the time.”
Interesting.
I pause. “Mack, you don’t think this woman might actually be Emmy, do you?”
Mack frowns at me. “Emmy with a relationship podcast?” She scoffs. “No. She’s never even had a real relationship. I mean, there was a guy in college. Very short-lived. And a guy a few months after—”
At her verbal halt, I frown. “What?”
