I letthe weekend pass without getting in touch with MacKenzie. I let Monday and Tuesday fly by without a call or a text, too. She hasn’t reached out to me either, so I’m going to assume she’s doing fine. I know the cops are keeping an eye on her place, plus Hank Flynn sends me periodic updates about her case, so no worries on that front.
On Wednesday, I text her to let her know that her door is on back order—it should be in on Friday. Her only response was,Okay. Thank you. She didn’t ask me how I was or where I’ve been. Just:Okay. Thank you.
What does that sentence even mean? Thank me for what? Ordering the door? Letting her know it’s on back order? “Shit, is she mad at me?” Well, she’s got no right to be mad atme. I’ve every right to be angry with her, though. I was sucked right into MacKenzie Parker drama. I shake my head and reassure myself that this break is exactly what I need to distance myself from all of that. I congratulate myself on my foresight.
On Wednesday evening, I meet my mom and my sister, the birthday girl, at Frontera Grill. I briefly reminisce about my date with MacKenzie two weeks ago, but shake that off. I’ve been doing my best to keep my mind off her, to keep myself upbeat,but something’s off. I think I’m coming down with something. I’m tired, a little nauseous, and I have the unmistakable feeling that nothing is ever going to be right again. But I shake it off so I can focus on my family.
When I hand Perri the gift, she smiles, probably because she recognizes the packaging. Unlike my Mom, Perri tears open the wrapping like her life depends on it. She pops open the little box and lifts the tissue away to reveal the white gold necklace. “Oh, yes,” she shouts. “I was hoping I’d get one too. I love this. Thank you so much, big brother. Tell MacKenzie thank you, too. She does such amazing work.”
I look at my mom; she’s wearing her necklace along with the matching earrings and bracelet she purchased. “I was hoping you’d bring her with you tonight.” Mom smiles coyly. “Did you do something nice for her on Valentine’s Day?”
Valentine’s Day?“When was that?” Shit. It was yesterday.
“Yesterday, darling,” Mom says with a little laugh. “You must have been very busy to forgetthat.”
“Yeah, well, yeah, MacKenzie was, uh, busy.” I’m not talking about MacKenzie with my mom and sister; not tonight.
“Well, I hope I get to meet her soon,” adds Perri, slipping the silvery chain around her neck. “She sounds cool.”
Jesus, Perri knows I’m taking a break—she’s the one who told me to do it. I’m irritable about this conversation, about MacKenzie. I decide to ignore them as I hide behind my menu. I’ll just keep my mouth shut and drown myself in food. I’m starved, I tell myself. I don’t want any reminders of the last time I ate here—with MacKenzie—so I order completely different stuff. I order Tacos Arabes and Enchiladas. I order an appetizer of Taquitos Banado and two desserts: Dos, Tres, Cuatro Cake and Duo de Flanes.
“Jeez, Sam. You eating for two or what?” my sister chides.
“I’m sharing. The desserts are for all of us.” Not really—that wasn’t my original plan. But I guess I’m getting called out. My sister noticed I’m planning to eat enough food for the entire party. So, to shut her up, I’ll share. Perri can be so annoying.
After dinner and hugs from two of my favorite women in my life, I wait for the valet to bring my car around. My hands are in my pockets, my head is slumped, and I feel kind of hopeless. And full. I need to undo my belt and my zipper to relieve some of the pressure. Once I get in the car, I do just that. “Ugh, I’m so full.”
As soon as I get home, I strip and slide into bed. I’ve slept a lot this week and have skipped all of my workouts—which isn’t like me at all. Not for the first time, I check my forehead, wondering if I have a temperature. “I’ve got to be coming down with something,” I grumble. Sleep is just what the doctor ordered—I need sleep to fend off whatever ungodly pestilence I’ve caught.
By Friday, I still haven’t heard from MacKenzie. My funk has reached an all-time low. I haven’t left my house since Wednesday night. I’m running out of food, and I’ve been out of beer since yesterday. I slide on some sweats and trek to the grocery store to get more beer and maybe some bourbon. “Yeah, bourbon is the cure-all if you’re coming down with something.” That’s what Grandpa Stone always used when he needed to feel better.
The door I ordered for MacKenzie has finally come in. I should be the one to install it, but I’m going to have Gill do it. He can meet MacKenzie tonight at her place and get the job done much more efficiently than I can. Gill knows how to hard-wire those doors. He can make sure the internet connection to the smart lock works right and teach her how to use the equipment. Yeah, Gill’s the right man for the job. I text MacKenzie.
Me: Your door is in. Gill will meet you at your place after work to install it.
MacKenzie:Okay. Thank you.
Jesus, again with this bullshit?Okay. Thank you?That’s all I get? This woman is so damned exasperating.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
OUT OF TOWN
It’s Friday night.I’m sitting here wondering how everything went with the door install at MacKenzie’s. My phone rings, and Gill’s name appears on my screen. Speak of the devil. “Hello?”
“Hey, Sam. All done, man.”
“Great, how’d it go?”
There’s a pause and then a sigh. I know Gill, and that’s the signal that he’s weighing his words. I press the speaker button and mute my television until he’s ready.
“Sam. You should have had me pick her up at work.”
Shit. I should have. “You’re right. Was she okay when you got there?”
“Yeah. She was expecting me. She seemed happy to see me.”
“Happy to see you?” What the ever-loving hell does he mean by that?
