Protecting What’s Mine: A Small Town Love Story

by Score, Lucy

  Later that night, after beer, pizza, bath, and dog snuggles, they curled together on Linc’s big bed. Her back pressed up against his front. His arm anchoring her to him.

  He waited until her breaths slowed. And when he was sure she was sound asleep, he nuzzled into her neck.

  “I’m so fucking in love with you, Mackenzie O’Neil.”

  44

  Mack wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting when she opened her back door. But it wasn’t seven kids dressed as everything from a robot to a franchise princess to some kind of death zombie murdery ghoul. Sunshine was wearing a sparkly tutu and fake pearl necklace. Her cloth tiara was already under her chin.

  Linc was in tights. She meant to check out the rest of his costume, but the tights were almost inappropriately highlighting his anatomy.

  He cleared his throat, and she reluctantly dragged her gaze away from his crotch. Superman. Of course he was dressed as Superman.

  “Happy Halloween,” the kids chorused.

  “Happy Halloween, guys,” she said. “Candy’s out front.”

  “We’re not here for candy,” Samantha announced, all business.

  “Yeah! We’re picking you up for twick or tweat!” Griffin said, busting a move in his Darth Vader garb.

  Mack felt her mouth fall open to form a perfect O.

  “Where are your parents?” she asked finally.

  “Our moms are at Uncle Chief Linc’s,” cloaked vampire Mikey explained. “Our dads are painting our living room. It’s tradition.”

  “Us guys lost a bet five years ago. So every Halloween, my sisters order pizza and drink too much wine at my place while handing out candy. My brothers-in-law tackle one home improvement project—while drinking too much beer—and I escort these monsters around town,” Linc explained. At least, she thought it was Linc, but she was staring at his crotch again and couldn’t be sure.

  “We’re bringing the wagon to pull you if you get tired,” robot Brandon promised earnestly.

  “You said she’d say yes if we didn’t give her any time to think about it,” Bryson complained to Linc.

  Linc shoved the kid off the step and into a bush. The rest of the kids laughed. “Don’t listen to him. And don’t think about it. Just say yes and put this on.” He tossed a shopping tote at her.

  Mack peered inside. “No way. Absolutely not.”

  “Kids. Deploy sad faces,” Linc ordered with a snap of his fingers.

  Six pairs of pathetic eyes stared up at her. Seven if she counted Sunshine’s. Eight if she counted Bryson’s face peering up from the depths of the bush.

  “I’m not wearing this,” she told Linc.

  “It’s trick-or-treat. You have to be in costume. It’s the law,” he insisted.

  “Please, Dr. Mack?” Mikey begged, clutching his hands at his chest. “Please?”

  “Dammit.”

  Five minutes later, Mack was shaking her head in front of the mirror. “I’m not wearing this in public.”

  “You’re only saying that because you forgot the bracelets,” Linc said from his repose on her bed. He plucked the two plastic cuffs off the bedspread.

  “The skirt is completely inappropriate.”

  “I’m wearing tights. We’ll go as Mr. and Dr. Inappropriate,” he insisted, sliding the bracelets into place. “Besides, you’ve got a cape to keep everything covered until later.”

  “What happens later?” she asked, still eyeing her reflection.

  “Superman and Wonder Woman get it on while still in costume,” he said, bouncing off her mattress. “In fact, I don’t know why we’re still standing here talking. Every minute we waste now is one minute longer before I get under Wonder Woman’s skirt.”

  She crossed her wrists and held them in front of her. “Back off, evil Superman. If you start sporting wood in those tights, a kid is bound to lose an eye, and you’ll be banned from trick-or-treat forever.”

  “Your argument is strong, but your skirt is short. I’m having trouble focusing on what’s more important.”

  “Why is it so quiet downstairs?” she asked, adjusting the headband.

  “Huh?” His eyes were glued to her legs.

  “There are seven kids and a dog downstairs, but it sounds like a library.”

  “Shit.” Linc ran from the room and jogged down the stairs. “Dammit, guys! This isn’t your house. You can’t just start warming up leftovers!”

  * * *

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Mack hissed to Linc as the kids hauled ass up the walkway to a yellow bungalow decked out with dancing skeletons and hand-carved pumpkins.

  “Trick or treat!” the kids yelled in unison when the door opened.

  “Hey, Dr. Mack! Hi, Chief Linc,” a short ninja with plastic nunchucks called as he or she ran by with a bag of loot.

  “That ninja knows my name,” Mack said.

  “Dreamy, everyone knows your name. You’re the talk of the town. ‘Doctor saves patient in roadside open heart surgery,’” he said, quoting the local newspaper’s headline earlier that week.

  “And now I’m dressed as Wonder Woman.”

  “Relax. Have some candy,” he said, producing a mini candy bar from behind his back.

  “Did this come from where I think it came from?”

  “There’s a secret candy holder in my belt, not my well-formed ass.”

  She unwrapped the candy and laughed as the kids sprinted back to them.

  “Homemade caramel corn,” Samantha squealed.

  Sunshine nosed at the bag of treats Joni Aucker had handed them at the last stop. Mack restrained herself from asking Linc if he felt strange running into the mother of the girl he’d once loved. Sure, they’d shared things, but most of their relationship centered around great sex and playful banter. It was best not to push too far.

  “You really didn’t have to bring the wagon,” Mack said. “My ankle feels good. And there’s no way in hell I would ever willingly ride in that thing.”

  “Oh, it’s not really for you,” Linc told her. “It’s either for all the candy the kids whine about being too tired to carry, a kid who hits his or her sugar limit and has a meltdown—my money is on Kinley this year—or little Miss Sunshine, who gets too sleepy to walk.”

  Sunshine, hearing her name, pranced in place.

  “I guess trick-or-treat is your favorite night of the year, isn’t it?” Mack asked the dog.

  Sunshine gave a happy little bark, and Mack obligingly fed her a treat.

  “Dr. Mack, what’s your favorite candy?” Mikey asked, batting his long lashes at her.

  “Get your own girl, Charm School,” Linc said, playfully elbowing his nephew out of the way.

  “Where to next, Uncle Chief Linc?” Rapunzel Leah wanted to know.

  “The Morettas,” he decided.

  Their motley crew of costumed children cheered.

  “What’s so great about the Morettas’ house on trick-or-treat?” Mack asked as Linc threaded his fingers through hers.

  “You’ll see,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  Aldo and Gloria were the King and Queen of small-town Halloween. They were dressed as Sonny and Cher, a seemingly adorable inside joke that Mack made a mental note to ask Gloria about later.

  Their garage was decked out in not-too scary haunted house fashion. Aldo manned a grill on the street, handing out hot dogs, hamburgers, juice boxes, and cold beers to costumed visitors. Gloria, her mother, and Aldo’s mother ran carnival games from tables in the front yard. There were baked goods and candy and vegetable trays and conversations happening everywhere.

  Linc’s nieces and nephews dispersed on the lawn, heading for the games, the garage, and the orange and black inflatable bounce house.

  “Wow,” was all Mack could say.

  Her handsome sidekick reached into a cooler and produced two beers. “Wonder Woman?”

  “Aren’t there open container laws?” she teased.

  “We each get one,” he explained. “Then you
can help me drive my drunk sisters and brothers-in-law home.”

  “Just what kind of a bet was it?” she asked.

  “A really stupid one,” he said.

  “Dr. Mack! You’re right on time!” Ellen, dressed as a cop with a badge that said Fun Police, hurried over. She gave Mack a hard hug and Linc a wink that he returned.

  “Ellen, you look great,” Mack said. It was true. Her patient-slash-friend was glowing. Her face looked brighter, a little leaner. And there was a definite sparkle in her eyes.

  “I feel great,” she said. “I had no idea how much I missed swimming, you know? And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “My husband started coming to the gym with me. He’s been lifting weights while I swim, and then we walk the track together for twenty minutes before he goes to work. I haven’t had to yell at him about his boxers for two weeks! And my father-in-law and I started cooking dinners together. The man had never used a microwave or loaded a dishwasher in his life. Now he’s on Pinterest saving Bolognese recipes.”

  Mack laughed. “That’s great.”

  “Are we still on for next week?” Ellen asked.

  “Yeah. Sure,” Mack said. “Ladies’ Night.”

  “Great! Do you mind if I bring a couple of my girlfriends? You know, make it a real Ladies’ Night?”

  “Uh. No, I don’t mind.” Maybe she’d invite Gloria and Harper and Sophie, Mack thought. Then wondered who in the hell she was having girlfriends that she could invite places.

  “Awesome. I’ll see you next week. I better go get my kids. They’re nearing the Close to Vomiting Candy in the Bounce House phase. Love the tights, Linc!” Ellen jogged off and poked the inflatable wall with her plastic nightstick. “All Kowalskis will now exit the bounce house.”

  “Put that beer down, right now!” Cher Gloria, wearing her chubby-cheeked baby, hurried toward them.

  “Why?” Linc asked. “Is it just for the kids?”

  She gave him a playful poke. “No. We have champagne waiting for you two.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then did the same to Mack.

  Gloria Moretta was happy. Down-to-the-bone, swimming-in-the-blood happy. And Mack suddenly, viscerally, wanted to experience that feeling.

  “What are we celebrating?” Mack asked.

  “You, silly. You saved Leroy Mahoney in front of his sweet grandson performing open heart surgery on the side of a road. Perfect costume, by the way,” Gloria said with a grin. She signaled for Aldo at the grill.

  “Oh, I… Well, Linc got me the costume.” Mack felt her cheeks flame.

  “Come on,” Gloria grabbed Mack’s hand and towed her toward the front porch of the Craftsman-style house.

  There was yet another table and not one, not two, but four bottles of champagne chilling in skull-shaped ice buckets amidst a sea of plastic flutes.

  Aldo climbed the steps behind them. He gave Linc a punch on the arm and Mack a trademark hug before tickling his baby under the chin. Then, heedless of the audience, he cupped Gloria’s chin in his big hands and kissed her gently.

  Linc playfully covered Mack’s eyes. “If they start taking their clothes off, we’re leaving,” he said.

  Kiss complete, sweet moment shared, Aldo turned to face the yard. “Hey, Fun Police,” he called to Ellen. “Give us a whistle, would you?”

  Obligingly, Ellen blew her whistle shrilly, and the crowd quieted down.

  “Happy Halloween, everyone,” Aldo said, slipping his arm around Gloria.

  “Happy Halloween!” everyone shouted back.

  “We wanted to take a minute to thank someone very special for her good deeds,” Aldo said.

  “Oh my God,” Mack hissed. Linc grinned at her. “You knew?”

  “You wouldn’t have come if I told you.”

  Gloria’s mother bustled onto the porch and popped open the first bottle of champagne.

  “Most of you know Dr. Mackenzie O’Neil,” he said, waving an arm in her direction.

  The cheer was rousing and completely embarrassing. She wanted to hide under Linc’s cape, but he held her firmly in place.

  “You deserve this, Dreamy. Soak it up,” he whispered.

  “You know that Dr. Mack here saved my life. None of this would be here if it weren’t for her,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” Mack whispered. Her throat was tightening, eyes watering.

  “Try not to blink,” Linc suggested.

  She opened her eyes scary wide and stared blankly at the porch light.

  “I wouldn’t be here grilling hot dogs with my beautiful wife and two perfect little girls if it weren’t for her. And we had a few other people who wanted to say thank you, too.”

  Mrs. Moretta let out a wail and blew her nose in a pumpkin napkin. “Sorry. You can continue,” she howled.

  Don’t blink. Don’t blink. Don’t blink.

  Another bottle of champagne was popped and poured.

  “Oh, crap,” Mack rasped as Dalton and Mr. and Mrs. McDowell—all dressed as the Incredibles—climbed the steps of the porch. Dalton ran over and handed her a drawing of a gigantic tick biting a stick figure boy and then a stick figure with boobs and a huge scar on her face kicking the tick. Mack laughed.

  “Thank you for everything,” Mrs. McDowell whispered wrapping her in a hug.

  Mack didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if she could say anything. So she just nodded and let herself be hugged.

  “You did good, doc,” Mr. McDowell said, his voice tight with emotion. “Real good.”

  “Thanks,” she managed. She sounded like she’d just swallowed a dozen razor blades. Her eyes burned, and she went back into non-blinking mode.

  The McDowells picked up their champagne and Dalton’s juice box and stepped aside.

  And then there were two more people on the porch. Mack briefly wondered what the weight capacity was, then decided it didn’t matter when she realized that Tyrone Mahoney was dressed in a little flight suit and carrying a mini medical bag. His handmade nametag said Dr. Mack. The boy had dressed up as her for Halloween.

  “Oh, shit,” she whispered. She blinked, and a hot tear spilled out of the corner of her eye.

  Linc squeezed her shoulder and cleared his own throat. “Just hang in there.”

  Tyrone and his mom hugged her hard.

  “Pop-Pop is still in the hospital, but he says to tell you thanks,” Tyrone told her with a big, beaming grin. “And I’m going to be a doctor just like you someday.”

  Words failed her. Which was fine because Tyrone’s mom, a lovely young woman still in a business suit that Mack felt was probably not a costume but a just-made-it-home-in-time-from-work-for-trick-or-treat, burst into tears while hugging her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered through tears.

  “To Dr. Mack,” Aldo said, raising his champagne.

  “To Dr. Mack,” the crowd in the yard echoed.

  The ladder truck that Mack hadn’t heard pull up celebrated, too, with lights and its horn.

  She had never been more uncomfortable in her entire life.

  Or happier.

  The feeling stuck with her on the way home. On a crisp fall night, in a friendly small town, Linc, her Superman firefighter boyfriend, carried the yawning Griffin on his shoulders. She pulled Kinley and Sunshine in the wagon and listened to Samantha talk about pre-med courses. Her belly was warm from the champagne, and the twinkle in Linc’s eye told her he hadn’t forgotten about his quest to discover what Wonder Woman wore under her skirt tonight.

  Maybe, just maybe, she could get used to this.

  45

  “Son of a bitch,” Linc grumbled at his reflection in the mirror. Being a fire chief didn’t put him in a tie often, which was why he periodically had to Google how to tie a fucking tie.

  “Need some help?”

  Mackenzie appeared in the mirror behind him, a vision in floor-length soft gray that dipped subtly between her breasts.

  “Wow.” Tie forgotten, he turned around to get a better
look. “Wow.”

  Her red lips stretched into a wide smile, eyes crinkling. She’d done something with her makeup, making her eyes look darker, bigger. Her lips delectably fuller.

  “I got this when the girls forced me into that shopping trip. Best thing about this outfit?” she said.

  “If you tell me it’s what you’re wearing underneath, I might lose consciousness while walking the bride down the aisle.”

  Teasingly, she lifted the hem of her dress. “You can barely see the boot.”

  “You’re beautiful, you know that, Dreamy?”

  “You’re not so bad yourself, Hotshot,” she said, fingers slipping up to his tie.

  He slid his hands down to cup the curve of her ass while she worked her dexterous magic on his neckwear.

  “How’d you learn to do that?” he asked, frowning down as she produced the perfect knot.

  She looked embarrassed, shrugged. “I saw my foster parents getting ready for a date night once. She helped him tie his tie. I learned.”

  He waited a beat. “Foster parents, huh? You know, someday we’re gonna be due for a long conversation.”

  She picked up his wrist and checked his watch. “Yeah, but not today. You’ve got to get a bride down the aisle.”

  * * *

  The bride was bubblier than the glasses of champagne that the catering staff doled out to guests as they took their seats in the old barn for the ceremony. The two-hundred-year-old rafters above had been strung with lights. Dozens of white chairs lined an aisle that led to an altar made of braided twigs and more lights. Every flat surface was decked out with a blaze of fall flowers, pumpkins, and pictures of the bride and groom from childhood to present.

  The mood was festive as Mindy tucked her arm through Linc’s. “You ready for your first trip down the aisle, chief?” she teased. She was a tiny, blonde thing, just as she had been all those years ago. But instead of a nightgown and snarled braids, she wore a lacey, long-sleeved gown, and her hair was curled and coiffed into perfection. Her brown eyes shone with excitement.