by Street, K.
Camryn moved to my side and gave me a hug. With an amused expression on her face, she directed her words at Tucker. “Babe, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that they’re grocery shopping.” She glanced up at me. “Ignore him.”
It was moments like this that made me regret judging Camryn so harshly when she and Tucker had first met. Her sarcastic wit was one of the things I loved about her. Camryn fit in with us so perfectly; it was like she had always been here.
“How are you feeling, Mama?” I asked her.
“A little better now that the morning sickness has subsided,” Camryn answered.
“Thank God,” Tucker muttered.
I knew Tucker had been worried, especially with the way he’d text several times a day to check in on her when he was at work.
“Aunt Macy, come see Mama’s belly.” Shayne’s voice was filled with excitement. She took Macy by the hand and led her to the little circle.
Camryn hugged Macy tight. “Girl, I feel like we haven’t seen or talked to each other in forever. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been avoiding me.”
Macy returned Camryn’s hug, and I was the only one who saw the look on Macy’s face. She looked almost like she was in pain, but just as quickly, it was gone.
“I’m sorry,” Macy apologized. “Things at work have been kind of crazy.”
Shayne bounced on her heels. “Show her, Mama!”
“All right, sweet girl. Calm down.” Camryn laughed and then pulled her shirt flat over her belly, revealing the tiniest hint of a baby bump.
Shayne rubbed a small circle on Camryn’s belly like she was a statue of Buddha. “Did you know the baby is the size of a different fruit or vegetable every week? This week, it’s the size of a plum.” Shayne twirled around, grabbed a plum from the display stand, and held it up.
“Really? How cool. I bet—” Macy coughed and began again. “I bet you’re excited to be a big sister, huh?”
“Yep. It’s taking forever though.” She put a hand on her hip. “On the bright side, at least Mama isn’t an elephant. Did you know that a mama elephant is pregnant for almost two years?” Shayne directed her question to the group.
The kid was too smart for her own good.
“I did not know that.” I turned my attention to Tucker. “You guys headed out to your mom’s?”
“Yeah. She needed us to pick up garlic bread for Sunday supper. You two are coming over aren’t you?”
“Please, Uncle Nash,” Shayne begged and folded her hands.
I glanced over to Macy. Her body language told me it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Not today, Monkey. But give your grammy a big hug for me.”
She pouted. “All right. I will.”
Camryn reached for Macy’s hand. “Don’t forget, we have a brunch date on Saturday.” Camryn pulled Macy into another hug.
“I’ll see you then,” Macy promised.
Tucker looked at Shayne. “Bug, give Aunt Macy and Uncle Nash hugs good-bye.”
Shayne hugged Macy first and then came over to me.
Crouching, I pulled her in for a tight squeeze. “Love you, Monkey.”
“Love you more, Uncle Nash,” she replied. Then, she walked over to Camryn and slipped her hand into Camryn’s palm.
Tucker clapped me on the back. “See you at work tomorrow. Your ass had better not be late.”
I knew he was joking because I was seldom, if ever, late. “Got it, boss.”
“Daddy.” Shayne held out her free hand.
Tucker dug in his pocket and placed a shiny quarter in her outstretched palm. Then, he ruffled her hair, and they strode away.
“I swear, that kid is going to have college paid for by the time she’s twelve,” I remarked as we watched them go.
Macy laughed halfheartedly. “Tell me about it.”
“Ready to finish up?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Sure.”
Macy was quiet as we finished shopping, and she remained that way throughout the drive back to my place.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as we carried the groceries into the kitchen.
“Nothing. Why?”
I started unpacking the bags and putting away the food. “You’ve been quiet, is all.”
“I’m fine. I just have a headache.”
“There’s probably some ibuprofen in the bathroom medicine cabinet,” I told her over my shoulder.
“I think I’ll go grab some.” She waited a beat and then asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
I was about to ask her if she wanted some company, but when I twisted to face her, the words died on my lips.
She looked to be on the verge of tears.
I wasn’t buying her just a headache bullshit. “Mace, talk to me.”
“I said, I’m fine,” she bit out. “I’m sorry. Really. I don’t mean to snap at you.”
I racked my brain to figure out what the hell had happened between the fishing hole and now, but I came up blank.
Before I could say anything else, she fled down the hall. Deciding it would be better to give her space for a little bit, I finished putting away the groceries.
17
Macy
I stood beneath the hot spray of the shower. Arms crossed over my midsection to stave off the emptiness I felt clear to my marrow. Rivers of water cascaded over my face, acting as camouflage for my tears. Flashes of memories hurled themselves at me in a brutal assault. Squeezing my eyes shut, I fought like hell to block them out.
I can’t do this.
Not now.
Not here.
Breathe.
Just fucking breathe.
It took several long minutes to pull myself together, and when I was certain the firm handle I held on my emotions wasn’t going to slip, I turned off the faucet, dried off, and got dressed. I put on Nash’s T-shirt I’d had on earlier and a clean pair of panties. I used the brush I had left on the counter last night and ran it through my damp hair. Then, I gave my reflection a once-over.
My eyes were a little red but nothing I couldn’t pass off as being tired, and if Nash didn’t believe me, I could always claim I had gotten soap in my eyes.
I gathered my dirty clothes and cracked open the bathroom door. Seeing that I was alone, I stepped into the bedroom. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me as I took in the sight of Nash’s bed. I remembered the way the covers had felt against my skin. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle beneath them and hide for a little while, so I ditched my dirty clothes by my bag in the corner of the room and then crawled into bed.
* * *
I stand at one end of the long door-lined hall shrouded in darkness. The only light is from the dim glow of the gas lanterns mounted to the walls outside each room. The corridor seems to stretch for miles, and every door looks identical.
Tiny cries draw my attention, and they grow louder each second I stand here.
With my heart pounding in my ears, I step up to the first door and grip the knob. Icy-cold metal meets my palm. The sensation is so unexpected that I yank my hand back.
Waah. Waah.
The baby. I have to get to the baby.
I twist the doorknob and lightly push against the door.
Muted moonlight shines through a dingy glass windowpane, illuminating the space enough for me to tell it’s a nursery. A rocking chair sits in the corner, adjacent to a crib. The cries intensify, propelling my feet into motion. I hurry through the room, my arms already reaching to pick up the baby from the crib. Only there is no baby.
Waah. Waah. Waah.
I run to the next door and fling it open. This room looks exactly like the one before it, and the crib is just as empty.
“I’m coming,” I yell, not able to pinpoint where the noise is originating from. “It’s okay.” The sound of my voice echoes off the walls.
I try door after door and look in crib after crib, moving faster and faster. The cries build in urgency, but I can’t find the baby
.
“Where are you?” I scream. “Please. Please help me find you.”
Waah. Waah. Waah. Waah.
My legs ache.
My lungs burn.
“Where! Are! You?” I scream until my throat is raw.
Tears streak down my face. I look back in the direction I came from, but it’s so far away now. All traces of light have been swallowed by the inky blackness.
W-waah. Waah. Waah. W-waah.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m coming. I’ll find you,” I whisper.
Too tired to stand, I begin to crawl. Eons pass before I reach the next door. Shrill cries pierce my ears. Relief floods me. I use the doorknob for leverage to pull myself upright.
“I’m here. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” I speak the words into the wood and then twist the knob.
Using every ounce of energy I have left, I make my way over toward the crib. When I’m a few feet away, I close my eyes and pray.
“P-please. Please b-be here,” I sob, wiping the tears from my eyes.
My feet move. First one and then the other. I peer inside.
“Noooo!”
* * *
“Macy. Macy! Wake up.”
Hands shook me by my shoulders. Screams ripped from my throat. Light finally broke through the darkness.
“Nash. Oh God. Nash.” I clung to him, fisting the material of his shirt.
Nash’s arms tightly wrapped around me, and he gently rocked me side to side. “Shh. I’ve got you, Mace,” he soothed. “It was just a bad dream. That’s all. Just a dream. You’re all right, baby.”
He had no idea how wrong he was.
It wasn’t just a dream.
18
Nash
I doubted I would ever forget the horrific sound of Macy’s screams as she tried to break free of her nightmare. It took quite a while for me to get her to calm down. When she refused to tell me what the dream had been about, I didn’t push her. Obviously, it had scared the hell out of her, and I had no intention of making her relive it.
Macy remained withdrawn for the rest of the night and barely touched her dinner. Every time I asked her if she was all right, she would say she was fine.
She wasn’t fine. Far from it. I saw it.
I fucking felt it.
In the way she didn’t relax against me while we watched television. How she curled into herself and pretended to be asleep when I climbed into bed after I got out of the shower.
Brick by brick, she was erecting her walls again. Putting an ocean of distance between us, and I didn’t have a clue how to reach her.
Sleep didn’t make it any better. This morning, it still felt like we were separated by miles even though we were standing in the same room. I watched her move around my space, gathering her things and shoving them into her bag like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
This is such bullshit.
“Bee.”
She froze. Then, she lifted her gaze to meet my eyes. “What?”
I dropped my arms and took a step toward her. “Talk to me.”
Macy shook her head. “I can’t.” She returned to her task. “I just need a little space.”
Space. Fucking space.
I was beginning to hate that word.
“Space?” I chuckled, not finding her request the least bit funny. “I thought we had worked through this. I thought you were done running.”
“Nash, that isn’t fair, and I’m not running.” She didn’t look at me.
“Well, it sure as shit looks that way from where I’m standing.”
I was frustrated beyond belief. It was clear that she wasn’t going to talk to me.
Fuck it.
“If you want space, you’ve got it.” I walked past her and headed to the door. Halfway down the hall, I added, “Lock up on your way out,” over my shoulder.
“Nash, wait,” she called out.
I turned to face her but didn’t give her the chance to speak. “It feels like all I’ve done is wait for you.” Then, I closed the gap between us, my tone softening as I spoke, “I waited for you to come home. Waited for you to stop hating me. Waited for you to forgive me. I’m still waiting for you to let me in, for you to give me all of you.” I trailed the pad of my thumb along the underside of her jaw and tilted her chin upward. “I’m waiting for you to love me back.”
Her eyes brightly shone with unshed tears.
“I’ve tried so many times to let you go, but my heart”—I lifted her hand and set it on my chest—“my heart keeps fucking waiting, Bee. If you can’t let me in, if you can’t love me back, I wish to God you would tell me. Because doing this back-and-forth hurts too damn much.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. I let go of her hand and cupped her face between my palms. It was a gesture I seemed to be doing a lot lately, but I needed her to grasp what I was saying.
With the pads of my thumbs, I wiped away her tears and gently kissed her lips. “When you’re ready, you know where to find me. You’re my drug, and as much as I wish I could, I just can’t quit you.”
This time, when I headed for the door, I didn’t look back. I walked out and shut it behind me.
Work was the last place I wanted to be, but that was where I was going. At least it would give me something else to focus on besides Macy.
* * *
Macy
I stared at the back of the front door Nash had just walked out of, and for the third time in my life, my heart shattered.
“It feels like all I’ve done is wait for you. I waited for you to come home. Waited for you to stop hating me. Waited for you to forgive me. I’m still waiting for you to let me in, for you to give me all of you. I’m waiting for you to love me back.”
Self-preservation came at a cost, and I hated that I’d hurt him, but there was no way I could have told him about the nightmare I was still reeling from. He would have pushed and asked questions. He would have tried to comfort me again. Reassure me it had just been a bad dream. But there was so much more to it. Every time I closed my eyes, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. They haunted me in a way that I couldn’t explain.
All these hours later, the sense of devastation that lingered rocked me to my core. It had taken all my strength not to break down in front of Nash earlier or lock myself in a closet and weep until I couldn’t. I had just needed a bit of distance to get my shit together. Compartmentalizing was my go-to coping skill, and I was struggling to keep the lids on all those tiny little boxes tucked inside my soul.
I never stopped loving him … not even when I’d hated him.
Mentally, I built another box and shoved everything inside.
The nightmare.
My fight with Nash.
All of it.
Then, I gathered the rest of my things, dried my eyes, locked Nash’s front door, and drove home, so I could be there when the repairman showed up to fix my air conditioner.
* * *
Nash
The shop was still quiet when I pulled into work. The door chimed as I walked inside, alerting Tucker of my presence.
He poked his head out his office door. “Hey, man. You got a sec?”
I wasn’t in the mood to chat, but I went into his office anyway.
“You look like hell.” He leaned against the front of his desk.
“Thanks. Did you call me in here just to insult me?” I crossed my arms and waited for his response.
He raised a brow. “What crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just a shitty day.” At least that’s the truth.
He looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s a quarter to eight. Pretty sure you can’t call the entire day shitty before ten a.m.”
“I stand corrected.”
He ignored my comment and asked, “What’s up with Macy? She didn’t seem like herself yesterday when we ran into you guys at the store.”
I laced my fingers behind my neck and looked at the ceiling before dropping my hands and blowing
out a hard breath. “Honestly, Tuck, I’m not sure. Everything was great, and then … I don’t have a fucking clue what happened.”
“Hang in there, man. I’m here if either of you needs anything. We’re family. You know that.”
Any other time, I would’ve made a joke about us turning into a couple of pussies or asked him if we were going to sing “Kumbaya” but not today.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
The door tolled, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Mr. Wilson strolling into the lobby.
“Duty calls,” I said to Tucker. I tapped the doorframe twice on my way out of his office.
* * *
For the rest of the week, I buried myself in work. I meant what I’d said when I told Macy I’d give her some space, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing me to stay away.
Saturday, I was on the verge of saying fuck it when her text came in. Knowing she wanted to talk brought a sense of relief, but little did I know how short-lived that relief would be.
19
Macy
It had been nearly a week and I missed Nash like crazy. He hadn’t called or texted or come by the office. I’d asked for space, and he was giving it to me. I would never be ready to tell him what I needed to, but I also couldn’t build a relationship with him unless he knew everything. Regardless of the pain and the heartache or the very real possibility that Nash would reject me once he knew the truth, keeping it from him wasn’t an option anymore.
I finished applying mascara for my brunch date with Camryn. Then, I grabbed my phone off the bathroom counter and sent a text to Nash.
Me: Are you free tonight? I need to talk to you.
Five minutes passed before my phone chirped with his reply.
Nash: Does 8 work?
Me: Absolutely. My place or yours?
Nash: You tell me.
