Page 33 of Take What Hurts

Mackenzie 7:10PM

That works!

Elliott 7:12PM

One more thing. My mother will end my life if I get a hotel in town and she finds out (which she will because she knows all). Are you okay if we stay with them tomorrow night? It will obviously involve dinner.

Mackenzie 7:11PM

Of course! Sounds like fun.

And now, here they were, standing outside Elliott’s childhood home, and Elliott’s palms were sweating, because she categorically had not thought this through. Of course, when she’d told her mom that she was bringing a friend with her, her mother had immediately jumped to conclusions and assumed that by friend, Elliott meant “person that she was going to marry within six months.” Elliott had learned over many years that it was imperative to set the record straight as quickly as possible where her mom was involved, and asked her to get the blow-up mattress out for Elliott. That notwithstanding, Elliott struggled to quiet the creeping of nerves when she considered what her mom, a force operating under her own steam, might do despite Elliott’s attempt to anticipate her next move.

At least Elliott wouldn’t have to spend the whole weekend trying to cover for the fact she was a scattered mess. Mackenzie had accepted that information about Elliott with as much grace and validation as Hannah had when she’d first mentioned to Elliott that perhaps her struggle went deeper than self-proclaimed incompetence. And it had been a relief.

“This place is gorgeous.” Mackenzie was staring at the illuminated white siding on the house and the Pride flag hanging off the porch, fluttering gently in the chilly breeze. “You grew up here?” Mackenzie called over her shoulder, her blond hair positively glowing in the porch light.

“Yep! And couldn’t wait to get away when I had my diploma in my hand. As we’ve established, I’m full of regret.” Elliott laughed, hoisting the bag carrying their ski boots over her shoulder. “Let’s go inside. I’m fucking freezing, and I can actually see my mother peeking out at us from behind the curtains. Let’s not keep her in suspense any longer.”

Mackenzie laughed and climbed the two steps onto the porch, and it took every ounce of Elliott’s self-control to avoid placing her hand on the small of Mackenzie’s back. Palm burning from the imagined ghost of how such a touch would set her alight, Elliott shoved the hand deep into the pocket of her joggers as she followed Mackenzie up onto the porch.

They hadn’t even had the chance to turn the knob on the front door when it swung open in front of them and Elliott’s mom appeared in the bright light of the small foyer. “You must be Mackenzie,” she half shouted.

“Mom, can we⁠—”

“Shush, you.” She brushed Elliott aside and took Mackenzie by the shoulders, leading her into the living area, where she all but pushed Mackenzie onto the sofa. To Mackenzie’s credit, she accepted all of this with that blinding smile she had that made Elliott break out in a sweat. “We’re so glad that Elliott has brought a friend with her. Usually, she skis with Grey or by herself. Harry doesn’t ski any more—terrible boot top fracture when he was younger—but anyway, she would have been skiing by herself this weekend, so⁠—”

“Mom, too much information,” Elliott groaned, swiping a hand over her beet red face.

“Ellie-Girl,” her dad boomed as he hurried into the living room from the den. “I thought that was you.” He came to an abrupt stop, eyes zeroing in on Mackenzie. “Oh! And who is this?”

As was tradition, her parents had not communicated about the fact that Elliott was bringing a friend to her childhood home.

“I’m Mackenzie,” she said, and Elliott watched both of her parents melt when Mackenzie turned on the smile that appeared to display every one of her teeth. “It’s lovely to meet you. Thank you for having me in your home.”

Nancy looked like she might cry, and as she spoke, Elliott stifled the urge to bury her face in her hands. “Oh, honey, you’re welcome. We’re so happy you’re here.”

Despite Elliott’s mom proving to be absolutely incapable of keeping it together, Elliott couldn’t help but marvel at Mackenzie, who comfortably perched on the couch in her parents’ living room with one lithe, toned leg—even under her sweatpants—crossed over the other like she’d been there a hundred times. The sight made Elliott’s mouth run fucking dry. Her eyes wandered to Mackenzie’s lovely face, taking in the way the hair that had escaped her braids framed her cheeks and fell slightly longer on the left side of her face. How she had a small scar not an inch below her left eye. Elliott found herself wondering how Mackenzie came to have the scar. When she lifted her eyes to Mackenzie’s, she found she was staring right back at her, and the smile that crept into Elliott’s cheeks blistered wider and wider until she was certain she looked a fool.

Always one to ply his guests with alcohol, Grey said, “Now what can I get you to drink?”

“So, who is Mackenzie, really?”

Elliott and Grey were in the garage workshop, doing a quick-and-dirty wax and tune on Elliott and Mackenzie’s skis, after a dinner where Mackenzie had integrated into her family’s mealtime like she sat at their dinner table on a regular basis. Like she belonged there. They’d left Mackenzie and Nancy in the kitchen, where Mackenzie had point-blank refused to allow Nancy to clean up by herself.

Elliott sighed—her dad could always be relied upon to get right to the point.

“She’s exactly what I told Mom she is—a friend.”

Grey examined the file in his hand before running it along the ski’s edge. “Uh-huh.”

“What? Why is it so hard to believe that she’s my friend?” Elliott asked, feeling the hurt prickle behind her eyes as she held a wax bar to her iron and rubbed the hot wax along the base of Mackenzie’s ski.

Grey stopped filing the edge of Elliott’s own ski and looked at her sharply. “Ell, that’s not it at all. I just thought she might be… well… more to you than a friend.”

“What makes you say that?” Elliott asked, not meeting his eyes and concentrating on heating the wax evenly over the base of the ski.

Grey laughed lightly. “Don’t bullshit me, kiddo. I was there when your naked butt came out of your mother.” Elliott tried not to gag while Grey continued. “That evasive crap doesn’t work on me. And it is also glaringly obvious to me when you are happy. And I haven’t seen you this happy since you became a ski instructor in college,” he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.