Wood U (Carved Hearts #4)

by L. G. Pace III

  “I know so,” she insisted, and she turned and disappeared through the sliding glass door.

  Leaving Galveston was hard. I managed to stave off the sense of foreboding until we reached the Austin city limits. M.J. crashed before we even got out of Houston, so we’d had a lot of time to talk. Mac insisted he wanted to take mom and Bart out to dinner when they came to town, and he recommended The Salt Lick when I told him they needed a solid dose of Texas.

  “Too bad Molly doesn’t have her BBQ place open yet.” I replied. “I’m sure mom would just love to get a selfie with her so she could show it off to everyone she meets.”

  “That can be arranged,” he drawled, turning his gorgeous eyes on me. We looked at each other until Mac was forced to avert his eyes back to the road. His rakish smile evaporated, and he spoke.

  “Thank you.” He sounded surprisingly serious. “For coming along. It meant a lot to me.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I had that feeling again, the one that insisted I memorize his profile, so I’d have it to hold on to one day when he was a distant memory. I shoved the feeling away like an old, unwelcome suitor, and focused on the overwhelming feeling of love I held for the man before me.

  “It meant a lot to me, too,” I replied, reaching over to stroke his hair.

  Once I spotted the giant run my fingernails created, I ripped my second pair of stockings and hurled them across the room like a toddler in the midst of a vicious tantrum. My mom had changed all of our plans at the last minute, and I was bitter about having to wear stockings in the first place. It was August in Texas, for the love of God. Who does that?

  When I’d suggested that we’d take them out to The Salt Lick the week before they arrived, my mother had scoffed.

  “Nonsense. We’re treating you. I made a reservation at The Driskill Grill. Make sure to let Mac know so he’s ready for the dress code.”

  Mac took this unintended dig in stride. I think I’d sufficiently laid the groundwork for him on what to expect from my mother, so he wasn’t even phased. He’d made a show of displaying his khakis and suit coat combo for me the weekend before.

  “I don’t know…” I said with mock disapproval. “I think you’d better model it for me.”

  Watching Mac dress was always nearly as erotic as watching him undress. We got as far as the tie, before I busied myself removing every stitch of clothing from his body. Things got a little raunchy that day, but he got to keep the tie on. It just wasn’t tied around his neck.

  I debated the hose situation as I looked at my navy dress in my full length mirror. With a shrug, I decided to pair it with gold open toed heels and go without hose. If mom didn’t like it, she could dine alone.

  Mom and Bart were expecting me to meet them at their hotel in twenty minutes, and our reservation was for twenty minutes after that. Since Mac had to wrap up a project with Nick, he was planning to meet us there.

  I was handing my key to the valet when my phone rang. Seeing Mac’s name, I answered it immediately.

  “Calling to bail on me?” I joked, and when his response was a very pregnant pause, I felt my lips and fingertips start to tingle.

  “I’m not gonna make it, Sugar.” The world wavered around me for a moment as rage coursed through me.

  “What?” My voice shook as I tried, and failed, to keep my anger in check.

  “I got to take care of something. Tell your mom I’m sorry.” With that, the line clicked dead and I pulled the phone away from my head and stared at it.

  He’d hung up on me. He’d actually fucking hung up on me.

  My car had already zipped off under the care of a valet, but for a moment, I thought about leaving. I had the urge to go find Mac and throttle him. We’d talked, at length, about this night and how important it was to me. I’d teased him about leaving me high and dry, but I had never expected it to actually happen.

  Humiliated, I went inside. The dinner was beyond awkward. Mom was more gracious about the entire affair than I had ever seen her. In a way, that made the abrupt way Mac had ditched me even worse.

  I’ll give him a chance to explain.

  By the time I said good night to Bart and Mom, I was surprisingly calm. I left the restaurant and tried Mac’s number. It went right to voicemail. I drove back to the apartment and tried again. Voicemail. Now my stomach was starting to twist in knots. Worried, I decided to go out to his house. When I drove up, the lights were off, and the truck was gone. Defeated, I went back to my apartment. When I got there, I tried calling again and went right to voicemail. I decided to text Mac, but ended up erasing the text seven times. Finally, I decided to keep it simple.

  Me: Hey. Give me a call when you have the time.

  I read and reread the text before sending. But the second my finger hit the button, I wanted the text back. It was better than leaving a voicemail; at least on a text he couldn’t hear the pain in my voice. Still, I wished I hadn’t left him a message at all. If he wanted to talk, he should call me.

  Mom was staying for a week, and the next day she had us set up for an appointment at one of the most exclusive spas in Austin. I had no desire to go, especially after what had happened the last time. But she’d paid in advance, and I didn’t want to cause any more drama then I already had.

  Bart drove us to the spa, explaining that he was going to play golf with a few business friends. Our day was one of the nicest and most serene I’d ever spent with my mother. She kept the conversation light and didn’t bring up Mac once. I went home with a sassy new hairstyle, amazing nails, and with every inch of my body worked over by a masseuse.

  I should have been happy, relaxed, and mellow. Instead, as soon as I was alone in my apartment, I realized I needed to go for a run. Putting on my workout clothes, I grabbed my mace keychain and headed out of the door. I’d stopped doing evening runs after Molly got kidnapped. Mostly because of Mac’s overbearing paranoia. His opinion didn’t apply tonight, so I hit the pavement.

  When I got back to the apartment, I half expected Mac to be there. I’d left my phone behind and I was disappointed to see that I had no messages. I went to bed that night alone, feeling more hurt than I’d ever been. The next day, I took Bart and mom sightseeing. I waited all day for Mac to call and by the time the sun went down, I was still waiting. My worry had given way to anger. I apparently wasn’t important enough to even rate a text back.

  I sat up on the roof deck that night, drinking Shiner and thinking about my predicament. Mac had never gone this long without calling. The fact that he hadn’t even texted me was troubling. As angry as I was at being ignored, I wondered if something was really wrong. After my third beer, I decided to bite the bullet and call Mason. Unlike Mac’s number, his phone rang. Mason picked up on the third ring.

  “Hey, Kelly.” There was something off about his tone. “What’s up?”

  “Hi, Mason. I was wondering if everything was okay with Mac. I’ve tried to call him, and his phone goes right to voicemail. I’m worried something might have happened.”

  “What? No, he should be fine. I just saw him earlier today. He brought M.J. over to play with the kids.” The matter of fact way he said it hit me like a punch to the stomach.

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” I hung up the phone and tossed it across the roof. It fell onto the padded bench before bouncing onto the deck. I put my hand over my mouth and the other cradled my stomach. Sobs built up from the very core of my being, and tears streamed down my cheeks. Sinking to my knees, I rode the wave of embarrassment and pain.

  He’s fine. He just decided not to call you. What more do you need to know? First, he starts blowing you off. He goes off and spends time doing who knows what. Or who. Now he is refusing to take your calls or even text you back. Meanwhile, he’s living his life. Obviously, he is done with you and doesn’t know how to tell you.

  When the grief had subsided, I retrieved my phone and went to bed. The beer was enough to help me to get a few hours of sleep. The next day, we had lunch p
lans with Mom and Bart. Or I guess I should say I did. I’d finished all the beer in my fridge the night before, so I was grateful that I didn’t have to be anywhere until noon. After a shower long enough to drain the hot water heater entirely, I felt almost human. As I was pulling out of my parking space, I saw Mac’s truck in the parking lot of Good Wood. Not only had he not called or texted me back, he had come to work and didn’t even stop up to see me.

  After lunch, I decided I didn’t want to go back to the apartment. I needed to think, without Mac showing up to sweet talk me. I had Bart drive out to Lake Travis, telling them that the view of the lake from The Oasis was breathtaking at sunset. The two of them carried on a conversation without me while they drove along, giving me the space and quiet I needed to think.

  Mac had a way about him. He was able to convince me that all was right in the world, even when it so obviously wasn’t. Looking back on our fights, arguments and disagreements I saw all of it in a very different light. The relationship I had with Mac had never gone beyond a certain level. We would hit on a topic he didn’t want to discuss and he would suddenly become distant. There were so many instances in which he had changed or cancelled plans at the last minute, that I was pathetic for not walking away months ago.

  By the time we got back to my place, I’d come to a realization. Mac had never fully let me into his life. He had kept me at arms’ length, never telling me anything beyond the surface. In retrospect, I felt foolish for having missed the signs that seemed so obvious now. I decided it was time to go find Mac and hash this out, one way or another. My dinner at The Oasis had included quite a few drinks, so I called a cab to take me to his house. When we pulled up, I saw him on the front walk. He wasn’t alone. Patricia had her arms around his neck and was kissing him. I blinked my eyes in disbelief, then told the cabbie to take me back home.

  Numb inside, I watched the view with dry eyes the entire return trip. After I paid the cab driver, I climbed the stairs to my apartment. Walking straight into the bedroom, I filled a suitcase with what I needed. I sent my dad a quick text before turning my phone off. After a last look around, I went downstairs and loaded my car. By then, I was stone cold sober.

  I COULDN’T WIPE the shit-eating-grin off my face as I tied my necktie. Flashes of Kelly securing me to the bedpost made it my new prized possession. As I was getting ready to walk out of the door, my cell phone rang. The ringtone was the theme song from a video game that MJ loved. I’d made it his ring tone, so I’d never miss his call. Scooping up the phone, I answered it while I locked the front door of the house.

  “Hey, little man. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Pop. Are you out with Kelly?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “I’m meeting her at the restaurant. I can call you when I see her if you want to say ‘hi,’”

  “Nah. I just didn’t want to interrupt.” I felt a swell of pride at his show of manners.

  “Even if you were interrupting, you know I always have time to talk to you. So what’s going on?” I felt a pang of foreboding, but I shook it off.

  “I was wondering if you could drop off a loaf of bread? We ran out.” I was irritated at Patty not being able to keep her cupboards stocked, but quashed it quickly. If my boy wanted a loaf of bread, then a loaf of bread he would have.

  “Sure thing, M.J. I have a few minutes before I’m supposed to be at dinner. You want anything else while I’m stopping?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say no to a bacon cheeseburger!” he stated excitedly. I laughed at how much he sounded like me.

  “That’s my boy. I’ll grab you some grub and a loaf of bread as long as you don’t think your mom will mind me spoiling your dinner.”

  “Nah, she won’t mind.”

  I hung up and jumped in the truck. I tossed a text off to Casino El Camino for M.J.’s burger so it would be ready when I got there. I grabbed a loaf of bread at the nearest convenience store, then swung by and picked up Junior’s food. As I drove across town toward Patty’s, I found myself thinking about Kelly.

  Things had been going so well lately that I’d decided to pop the question. I even went so far as to enlist Granny’s assistance, since she was the only woman in the family capable of keeping a secret, to pick out a ring. Then I asked her father’s permission. I cornered him one afternoon after all the rest of the staff had left the shop. Francis surprised me by shutting me down flat.

  “It’s not really my place to give a blessing, Mac. But if you want my opinion, you hold off on that ring for a while. She isn’t ready.” He didn’t look happy with his proclamation, and I felt my stomach drop.

  “What do you mean?” I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “You don’t think she’s interested?”

  Francis sighed and put his hand on my shoulder. “Mac, you know that I don’t really have the right to speak for her. I can only advise you as a friend. You know as well as I do that Kelly has never been in a long-term relationship. Not until you. My best suggestion would be to broach the subject of marriage gently. Don’t try to spring it on her all at once. You might not like how that turns out.”

  His wisdom had blown a hole right through the side of my fantasy of sweeping Kelly off of her feet. You might even say he swept me right back onto mine. When I stopped to think about it, I could see a lot of bad outcomes to surprising Kelly with a ring. I confided in Mason and Joe about the conversation over drinks a few nights later, and they both said that if they were in my shoes, they’d defer to Francis’s judgment. So I’d put the ring away like a good little soldier. I locked it in my firesafe and asked Kelly to go to Galveston Island with us instead.

  All thoughts of Kelly and my trashed proposal fled me when I pulled into Patty’s driveway with M.J.’s delivery, and I didn’t see her car. I wondered if it was in the shop again. Normally, she would have been bugging me to have one of my gear-head friends look at it for a discounted price. I usually ended up paying. I knocked, and my boy opened the door and bounded into my arms.

  “Dad! Did you bring the burger?” he asked. I laughed, pulling the bag out from behind my back.

  “Here you go, buddy. I also got you your bread.” I followed him into the house. “Patty! Where are you?” M.J. ran ahead of me into the kitchen. I trailed along after him, trying not to let my horror show at how filthy the house was.

  The smell hit me from the kitchen before anything else. Old garbage, rotten food and the stink of rancid grease. As I entered the room, I saw M.J. sitting at the small kitchen table, the only part of the room that was truly clean. Standing in the doorway, I surveyed the room in disbelief. Then I listened. Other than the sound of MJ opening the paper bag at the table, the house was quiet. By this time, I’d have expected Patty to be in my face, screaming about my being in the house without her permission.

  “M.J.,” I started, keeping my voice casual. “Where’s your mom?”

  MJ looked up at me with a mouthful of food like a deer in headlights. He took a minute and swallowed, but I gave him a smile and he relaxed.

  “Umm…well, she went out for a little bit.” My heart rate doubled as I fought against a rising tide of rage.

  “Oh, yeah? When did she leave?”

  He looked down at the table before he answered.

  “Yesterday, before lunch.”

  I felt like I was going to throw up, but somehow I managed to keep a smile on my face and nod gently. I pulled up a chair and sat at the table with my ravenous son.

  “Wow. She must trust you a lot to let you hang out by yourself.” I sounded chipper, which is what I was going for. “Does she do that a lot?”

  MJ nodded, seemingly happy that he wasn’t in trouble.

  “Yep. She said I have to keep it a secret, or else I’ll get in trouble. It used to be only once in a while…when she needed to go out. But more when she started going out to meet Uncle Bill. Then she’d tell me to put myself to bed. It was scary at first, but not anymore.”

  I smiled at him, ruffling his hair with my
hand. In my mind’s eye I imagined dropping Patty into the top of an active volcano. “Of course she trusts you, buddy. You’re a great kid. Eat up. I need to go back out to the truck for a minute. Okay?”

  He nodded, more than happy to dig into the food in the bag. As I was walking back out of the room, I spotted two empty bread bags in the trash with an empty bottle of ketchup. I realized why he’d called me. My boy liked to make himself ketchup sandwiches for a snack; it was disgusting. From the looks of the trash, it seemed like that was all he had been eating for the last few days.

  Once I was outside, I let loose with a whole load of quiet cursing. My stomach roiled, and I ended up puking into the bushes. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I felt a surge of homicidal rage. At that moment, had she been in front of me, Patty would’ve been a dead woman. I walked around the yard, trying to get my head around what’d just happened.

  She left him alone. Again, and again and again. He’s not even ten years old. Anything could have happened to him. The house could’ve burned down. Someone could have kidnapped him. He could have fallen, hurt himself, or gotten himself killed. Anything could have happened! Anything!

  I realized that this was all my fault. It’d been stupid to think that she was going to change. She’d played me, just like she had time and time again. Letting me see what she wanted me to see so that she could keep M.J. Not because she loved him, but so she could get a check from me. It was obvious that she didn’t care. What kind of mother leaves her kid alone like this? And with nothing to eat, no less.

  Pulling out my phone, I called Kelly. I stumbled through telling her I couldn’t make it to meet her mother. I knew she was pissed when I hung up, but I wasn’t equipped to explain. I’d planned to call her back her later, when I had a grasp on the situation. With her mom in town, the last thing she needed was my ex-wife’s bullshit embarrassing or upsetting her. Flipping through my contacts, I called my lawyer.