Mack Daddy

by Penelope Ward

  The following Thursday afternoon, Mack was parked outside of the school waiting for me at five; my staff meeting had run late.

  He’d had to cancel seeing me the previous two days because Torrie got unexpectedly called out of town for a work-related emergency. Since Jonah had to stay with him, there was no way for us to spend time together after school. He’d been extremely apologetic, even though I’d told him it really wasn’t necessary to be sorry about something he couldn’t control.

  When I entered the car, he looked morose. “I’m so fucking sorry, Frankie.”

  “I told you, it’s fine.”

  He looked around to make sure no one had spotted us before driving off.

  “No, it’s not fine. We only have this week. This time has been like a gift, and I just lost two whole days with you. Now, we just have tonight.”

  Jonah’s weekend with Mack started on Friday afternoons through Sunday evening. So, aside from the fact that I’d see him at the winter festival on Saturday, tonight would be it.

  “We’ll make the most of it.” I smiled.

  “I’ve been dying to see you,” he said.

  The words were at the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell him that I’d thought of nothing but him for the past two days, but I needed to be careful. I didn’t want to give him false hope, because admittedly, I was still torn about what was going to happen once Victor returned. This limbo wasn’t really fair to either of them, but I vowed not to let my confusion ruin tonight. It was my one night with Mack, and I needed to focus on the moment.

  I finally answered him, “You’ve been on my mind, too. A lot.”

  Mack was dressed to the nines in a fitted, collared shirt and formal trousers.

  Looking him up and down, I said, “You’re so dressed up.”

  “I have a surprise for you. But you need to stop at home and change into something nice.”

  “You’re taking me to my condo?”

  He sensed my apprehension. “Yes, but I’ll wait in the car for you.”

  Once at my house and not wanting to waste time, I’d never gotten dressed so fast in my life. My pulse raced with excitement as I threw on a red dress and matching heels. Glancing over at a picture of Victor and me in our bedroom, I tried not to let the guilt seep in. I reminded myself that even Victor wanted me to use this time away to figure things out. Going out with Mack tonight was part of that process.

  Mack’s eyes widened when I returned to the car. “Fuck, you look gorgeous. I’ve always loved you in red. It accentuates your hair.”

  “Thank you.” My skin felt hot from the compliment. “So, you won’t tell me where we’re going?”

  “Like I said, it’s a surprise.”

  Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the Hyatt Regency hotel that overlooked the Charles River.

  “We’re going to The Spinnaker.” He smiled.

  The Spinnaker was a restaurant situated on the top floor of the hotel. It was known for its rotating floor, which spun around ever so slowly while patrons gazed out at different views of the city. Back in college, we’d gone there once to celebrate acing our respective final exams. Mack had racked up a huge bill on his father’s credit card and vowed to deal with the repercussions later. We’d had so much fun that night.

  We made our way to the top of the hotel, only—to our shock—there was nothing there anymore. A cleaning person was vacuuming a rug, but the doors that once led into the famous restaurant were locked.

  “What happened to The Spinnaker?” Mack asked.

  “Closed down several years ago,” the woman said. “They just rent the space for private parties now.”

  “I didn’t know,” I whispered to him.

  “Thank you,” he told the worker before turning to me. “I feel so stupid.”

  Placing my hand on his shoulder, I said, “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay. It’s not.” He repeated, “None of this is okay. It’s like I just expected everything to be exactly the same.” I knew he was referring to more than just the restaurant being closed.

  Mack was extremely quiet during the elevator ride back down to the lower level. Once outside of the hotel, instead of heading back toward the car, he stopped walking and stared out toward the river.

  The wind caused by being so close to the water blew my hair around as I asked, “Mack, what’s wrong?”

  He looked up at the sky then over at me. “Am I delusional?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Be honest. Am I grasping for something that’s not there anymore?” He turned to me. “I wake up in the morning with hope, that every day I’m somehow closer to being with you. I still feel this bond between us. I feel it so strongly. But tonight is an example of how fucking clueless I apparently am. I just assumed…it would be here, just like I assumed that I could just come back into your life and somehow win you back after eight fucking years. The one chance I get to really be with you—this week—and my life gets in the way, once again demonstrating how I can never make you a priority like you deserve. Fuck, I don’t even think I would choose me if I were you.” He looked up at the sky then back at me. “I don’t have all the time in the world to give you. I couldn’t give you the perfect life even if I wanted to, because I am carrying so much baggage. Some days, I don’t even know who I am anymore…Jonah’s dad, Torrie’s ex, Michael Morrison’s estranged son. But when I’m with you…I’m Mack. I feel like myself. When you look at me, you remind me of who I am, who I want to be. I want to go back to being that man who was once happier than a pig in shit just from being around you every day. But it’s not fair to steal away even an ounce of your happiness just so I can have mine.”

  As much as I’d wanted to avoid touching him, I couldn’t help it. I pulled him into a tight embrace.

  We just held each other for the longest time. His breath was shaky. I could feel his heart pounding faster than I could ever remember. For the first time, it hit me how vulnerable Mack really was. Even though he always seemed so confident and strong, he was letting his guard down completely in this moment. I still had no clue what the right choice was for me, but one thing I was sure of: I wanted to spend every minute of tonight with this man. The evening wasn’t going to go to waste.

  Breaking our long embrace, I asked, “Will you take me back to your house?”

  He seemed surprised. “My house?”

  “Yes. I want to cook for you and watch a movie on your big ass television. That’s how I want to spend tonight, not in some fancy restaurant.”

  “But I’m supposed to be wining and dining you.”

  “What would make me happiest is to be able to cook us a nice meal and to just be with you. Can we go to your place?”

  “Of course. Consider my house your house. I would love that more than anything.”

  “Okay…it’s settled, then.”

  Frankie wanted to stop back at her condo to put on comfortable clothes and grab some food she had in her fridge so that she could prepare it over at my place.

  Knowing I’d be stepping into his house made me a little ill, but he wasn’t there, so that balanced it out a little. I was definitely eager for the rare opportunity to scope out where she lived.

  This brownstone had to have cost in the millions.

  “How did he afford this place?”

  “It’s been in his family for years.”

  “I was gonna say. A professor’s salary alone wouldn’t allow for this.”

  “It certainly wouldn’t.”

  The décor was a combination of dark wood and interior brick with lots of built-in shelves and dark leather furniture. Books were everywhere. The ceilings were high, and there were lots of rooms; it was almost too much space for two people.

  I followed her into the rustic-style kitchen. The cabinets were painted a light teal color and the island featured a butcher-block countertop. There was a small open pantry in the corner stacked with food items.

  Frankie grabbed a canvas bag and began emptying s
ome of the contents of her fridge into it. She eventually placed it down in a thud and said, “I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna change into something more comfortable and then we can get out of here. Feel free to look around.”

  I made my way into the living room. My eyes landed on a picture of Frankie with Victor. I leaned in to examine it. The photo looked like it was taken on one of the swan boats on the Boston Common. His arm was wrapped around her. But that wasn’t what filled me with jealousy. He was gently kissing her forehead while she shyly looked into the camera. His eyes were closed. I didn’t have to imagine the thoughts going through his head in that moment because I knew full well what he was thinking; he was thinking what a lucky bastard he was. And that he didn’t need anything beyond what was right in front of his nose. I wasn’t gonna lie; seeing the picture upset me for more than one reason. It upset me because I was jealous, but it also upset me because it made me feel like Victor really cherished Frankie. And I knew she deserved that.

  She appeared in the doorway and noticed me looking down at the photo. She was wearing sweats. It reminded me of something she would have worn around our apartment back in the day. Since reconnecting with her, she’d never looked more like the old Frankie than in that moment. There she was, right in front of me, yet so far away.

  “There’s the Frankie I remember.”

  “I’m sorry if I look like a bum, but it’s been a long day. I wanted to just get comfortable.”

  My mouth curved into a smile as I took her in. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

  Her cheeks turned red. “You’re a liar.”

  “I’ve never lied to you, Frankie. Not once.”

  She seemed to ponder that for a moment. “That’s true. You never really have…that I know of.”

  I’d lost a little of my fight earlier tonight. It was back. Suddenly, as much as I’d felt badly for Victor after the realization that photo had brought to light, I transitioned back into fight mode. A voice inside me seemed to say, “Fight harder.”

  All is fair in love and war, Vic. Sorry, but I love her, too.

  Frankie had made a tasty chicken and artichoke dish with sundried tomatoes in my kitchen. She’d also shown me how to make rice in a rice cooker I hadn’t even realized I owned. It must have been left behind by the previous tenants.

  After dinner, we retreated downstairs to my man cave. I turned on the pellet stove, and the blazing fire made the space nice and toasty.

  Having her here with me was heaven and hell at the same time. It wasn’t hard to imagine this being our life, getting to do this every night. But there was still the harsh realization that it could have been our very last time together like this. She’d given me no real indication of where her head was. And I was sure that was because she didn’t fully know.

  Frankie curled into the corner of my couch. Wearing fuzzy socks, she looked so comfortable. At one point, I took her feet, placed them on my lap and began massaging. In ecstasy, she closed her eyes and let me have my way with them. I could’ve done it all night long. The sounds of ecstasy coming out of her mouth were painful to listen to because they reminded me of what I wished I could have really been doing to give her pleasure tonight. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to be inside of her. That was something I’d imagined a lot over the years, but it was far more frustrating to be doing it while listening to her little moans.

  The television was turned to one of the cable movie channels, but neither of us was paying any attention to it. We were quiet for a while until an idea popped into my head.

  “So, I was thinking…”

  “That can be dangerous,” she joked, her eyes still closed.

  I squeezed her foot harder in response.

  “Ow,” she laughed.

  “As I was saying…I think we need to write down a list of pros and cons.”

  “For what?”

  “Me versus him.”

  She pulled her feet away from me and sat up. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I know you’re still confused about what’s best for you long-term. Sometimes, it helps to write things down.” I got up in search of paper. “Be right back.”

  I was certain she thought I was joking; I wasn’t. We didn’t have much time, and I needed to get a better feel for where things stood.

  Returning to the couch, I moved in closer to her, relishing the smell of her hair. “Okay, let’s start with him.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”

  “Sure, you can.” I drew a line down the middle of the yellow legal pad. “I’ll start.” I began writing. “Pros for Victor…he’s safe. He adores you. He has a great job. Amazing house. No kids. No ex-wives. No baggage.” I looked over at her. “You want to add some of your own?”

  She responded with sarcasm, “Well, you seem to know everything about Victor, so…”

  “I’m biased and can’t be trusted. I’m about to go in for the kill on my side, so you’d better help out your friend.”

  She took the pen and wrote, “Honest. Caring. Protective. Ridiculously intelligent.”

  Swallowing my pride, I coughed. “Those are all good.” I took the pen back. “Victor’s cons…old as fuck.”

  She laughed. “He’s not that old.”

  I continued listing things. “Let’s you hang out with strange men.”

  “That’s not a con. That means he trusts me.”

  “The fuck it isn’t a con. If you were my woman, you would not be going out on my watch with some dude who’s trying to get into your pants.”

  “That’s a con in your corner then, Morrison. You’re trying to get into my pants?”

  “Frankie Jane, I have wanted in your pants since the night you made me stay up to watch that Doctor Who marathon.”

  She laughed. “That was when you decided you wanted to sleep with me?”

  “I don’t know if that was the exact moment, but I definitely remember wanting to suck on your neck really badly that night. There were many nights like that, but for some reason, that one sticks out.” I pointed to the paper. “Stay focused. What are some of Victor’s cons?”

  Shrugging, she said, “Honestly, I can’t really think of any.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nothing is coming to mind.”

  “Everyone has faults. Even not having faults could be considered a con, because it makes him fucking boring.” I wrote it down. “Boring.”

  She cackled. “In that case, you’re very exciting, Morrison.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m just messing with you.” In an effort to show me she was kidding, she ran her hand briefly through my hair. It was the first time she’d initiated any physical contact, and it made my pulse race. I wished I could pin her down and demonstrate what I was sure was a very big pro in my corner.

  Shaking off the intense need to do just that, I said, “Okay, well since there are apparently no negatives for Victor, let’s move onto to Mack’s cons. I’d like to get those over with first. I’ll start.” Taking a deep breath, I started to write something, but my hand froze. Holy fuck, there were a shit ton of cons. I just couldn’t get myself to write them down.

  Got another woman pregnant.

  Abandoned you.

  Tons of baggage.

  Corrupt family.

  No time for you on weekends.

  The list went on and on in my head. I let the pen drop and balled my hand into a fist.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t. There are too many. I’m gonna lose.”

  “Maybe start with the pros, then.” She handed me the pen and smiled. That motivated me to continue.

  I put pen to the paper again. “Funny…good-looking…well-endowed…”

  “I can attest to that last one.” She laughed. “From the brief and unintentional contact I had the night we first met.”

  “Unintentional is debatable.” I winked. “Kidding. I’m glad I made a good first impression.”

&nb
sp; When I continue to stall, she grabbed the pen from me and wrote. “Great father.”

  “Thank you.”

  There weren’t a lot of things that defined me; I truthfully didn’t feel like I could go on and on about myself. But there was one thing—a major pro—that needed to be added. It was what mattered the most above all else when it came to her.

  My hand shook a little as I took the pen back from her and wrote: Loves you more than you’ll ever know.

  She just stared down at the words, letting them sink in. I knew she wasn’t expecting them to come at this very moment, but something told me that now was the most important time to say it.

  I took her hand in mine. “You said earlier that I’d never lied to you. That still holds true. I have never loved anyone like I love you. From the moment we met, life just felt different. You brought color into my gray and dismal existence, made me realize what it means to have someone change your entire outlook on life, change your reason for living. I slowly fell in love with my best friend. You were my first love—my only love. I should’ve told you how I really felt back then. Even though life got in the way, even though everything changed in our worlds as we knew it, nothing could take the love I feel for you away. It’s always been there all these years, even though I’ve never actually said those words until now. So, in case there was ever any doubt, I love you, Frankie. Maybe in the end, that’s all I really have to give. Maybe that doesn’t necessarily make me the best on paper. If you choose me, I’m just going to have to love you more, love you harder, so that my love for you trumps everything else. That’s not gonna be hard for me, because I don’t feel like there is a limit to how much I love you.”

  Even though she was apparently speechless, tears were forming in her eyes.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I said. “I just needed you to know.”

  Frankie looked like she wanted to say something, but things were quiet for a long time.

  She finally admitted, “Victor said part of the purpose of his going away was to give me some space to figure things out. But I’m more confused and afraid than ever.”

  My heart nearly stopped in that moment.