Winter flung her arms around his neck. “Yes, mon amour français, I believe we can.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“She’s here!” Linda Barclay said, stepping into my office a week after Harvey had told me about Macy’s return. Seven long days. My nurse shut the door behind her, and as if I needed to be informed who she was, added, “Macy’s here.”
“Oh?” I looked up from my half-eaten lunch. I pretended not to be interested. “What does she want?”
The question appeared to confuse Linda. “I don’t think she wants anything.”
“Then what’s she doing here?”
Linda motioned helplessly. “She’s here to finish the mural. She’s got her paints. Right now she’s saying hello to everyone. I…I thought you’d want to know.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I said coldly. As for the mural, I’d grown accustomed to seeing it unfinished. It even had a certain appeal that way. I’d come to accept that it would probably stay exactly as it was, and that was fine by me. I no longer expected Macy to finish anything she started. That included the mural and me. This was a pattern; when situations grew too intense or uncomfortable, she simply walked away.
That left a question as to why she’d returned and then the answer came to me. Instinctively, I realized she wasn’t back out of any desire to see me. After all these weeks she probably needed the money to catch up on her bills. Accepting that as the most likely explanation, I opened my top desk drawer and pulled out my checkbook.
“What are you doing?” Linda asked suspiciously.
“What does it look like? I’m writing a check for the remainder of what I owe her.” I signed my name with a great deal of flair, ripped off the check and set it on the desk.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d see that she gets paid when she’s finished the mural.”
“Michael!” Linda cried, hands on her hips.
She hardly ever addressed me in that tone, and I automatically glanced up. “What?” I asked. Paying a supplier for services rendered wasn’t an unusual request.
“You need to give it to her yourself.”
“No can do. I have a busy afternoon.”
“No busier than usual.”
“Fine, have it your way,” I said, unwilling to fight about this. “If you won’t give her the check, I’ll ask one of the others to do it.” I refused to be thwarted. I refused to see Macy. I didn’t want to speak to her, either.
“She isn’t here because of the mural,” Linda told me.
I knew otherwise. Remembering how close Macy lived to the edge financially, I was well aware that six weeks without income must have played havoc with her bank account. That check was the sole reason she’d swallowed her pride and walked in here today. If she expected me to make a scene, then she’d be disappointed. Or relieved. I didn’t care which. As far as I was concerned, she was invisible. Rather than continue the argument, I walked out from behind my desk and found the receptionist. “Would you kindly see that Ms. Roth receives this check before she leaves?”
“Ah…sure.” Her eyes connected with someone behind me. Linda, no doubt.
I chose to ignore them both. Without another word, I went back to my office, walking directly past Macy. From her position on the floor, paintbrush in hand, she looked up at me. I felt her gaze as powerfully as a caress. It took a great deal of strength to pretend she meant nothing. Once back in my office I closed the door.
My first appointment of the afternoon was with Ryan Clawson, who had an infected big toe. I cleaned it and wrote out a prescription for antibiotics, then wrapped his foot. Taking my pen I drew smiley faces on his other four toes and made up a story about the “Toed” family to keep the boy entertained. Ryan at six had been frightened and nervous, but he’d held up bravely, even giggling at my nonsense. After giving his mother instructions on how to care for his foot, I helped Ryan down from the exam table.
“Who’s the lady outside?” he asked, looking up at me.
“Nurse Linda?”
“No, the lady painting the wall.”
“That’s Macy,” I said, trying not to grit my teeth. Was there no escaping her?
“She’s nice.”
Rather than respond verbally, I managed a smile.
“She said you’d help my foot feel better. She said I should be brave and I was, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, you were.” I was sure this was Macy’s way of sending me a message. Well, she could send all the cryptic messages she wanted, but I wasn’t responding. I had nothing to say.
“Can I tell her how brave I was?”
“By all means.” I held open the door for Ryan and his mother. Without glancing in Macy’s direction, I went to the next room, where I was to examine a suspected case of poison ivy.
By the time I’d finished my afternoon appointments, Macy had completed the painting and disappeared, which was exactly what I’d expected. I’d certainly called that one. She’d taken the money and run. No surprise there. Rather than risk an unintentional meeting, I returned to my office and shut the door once again. It was after five and I was looking over lab results when I heard someone knocking. Assuming it was Linda, I called out, “Come in.”
The door opened and Macy stepped inside.
So she hadn’t hightailed it out of the office, after all. Leaning back in my chair I feigned irritation. “Yes?” I said shortly. I wanted it known that I wasn’t pleased to see her.
She stepped forward and set the check on my desk.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
I wasn’t going to be drawn into an argument, and yet I felt obliged to pay her. Picking up the check, I handed it back. “Did I not agree to pay you seven hundred dollars for the mural?”
“You did.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I wanted her out of my office as quickly as possible. I continued to hold out the check, which she ignored.
“I didn’t finish the mural in a timely manner.”
“But you did finish it.”
“Besides, you made a house call to see Harvey, remember?”
“It wasn’t a house call,” I insisted. The last thing I needed was my insurance company getting wind of the fact that I’d broken a cardinal rule. My malpractice premiums were already more than my college loan payments had been. I didn’t need a rate hike because Macy couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“You held up your end of the bargain. I’m doing the same.”
I gestured toward her dismissively, the check still in my hand. “It was nothing. Take this and cash it in good conscience.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Fine, then,” I said as though bored. I tore it up and let the pieces flutter into the wastebasket.
Still, Macy didn’t leave. She stood awkwardly on the other side of my desk, shuffling her feet nervously while I acted as if she wasn’t there. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Was there something else?” I asked, making my voice as flat as I could.
“Ah…Harvey said you stopped by every day for the first week.”
I didn’t bother denying it. “More fool me.”
“Would it help if I told you I was sorry?” She bit her lower lip, something I’d seen her do any number of times. It always made me want to kiss her, to ease away her anxiety. Instead, I looked down at the lab reports on my desk.
“Michael, I really am sorry.”
I glanced up then and saw her big eyes staring back at me, silently pleading. I exhaled slowly. “I’m sure you are,” I said.
“Does an apology help?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh.”
This had gone on long enough. I walked over to the door and opened it. To my shock Linda, the receptionist and two other staff members stood on the other side, listening in on our conversation. They each wore a stunned look and instantly scattered. If I hadn’t been so unprepared, I would have laughed. Well, maybe not.
“I remember Hannah,” Macy said.
My hand remained on the knob, my back to Macy. I felt a surge of anger. It wasn’t fair to bring up Hannah’s name!
“I think it would be best if you left now.”
But Macy didn’t leave. “I don’t have a lot of friends.” She hesitated, then amended the statement. “That isn’t what I meant—I have lots of friends, but most of them are more…acquaintances. I considered Hannah a friend, a true friend. I loved everything about her. The way she laughed wasn’t like anyone else I ever knew. I enjoyed the sound of it so much I’d do just about anything to hear it.”
“It really is time for you to go,” I said again, my voice gaining conviction.
“I know. I probably should, but I can’t make myself do it.”
“Do you want me to call security?”
“You could, but I should remind you that Larry likes me.”
She was quickly gaining the upper hand and I resented it. I opened my mouth to tell her I’d request someone else, when she interrupted me.
“No one’s ever loved me the way you do…did.”
That was her reason for abandoning me? It didn’t make sense. Not for a moment.
“Oh, my grandmother. And maybe Harvey, although he’d never admit it.”
“You’re telling me this…why?”
“Because your love frightened me. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. It overwhelmed me, just like Hannah’s friendship did.”
“You ran away from her, too?”
“No.”
Liar. Other than at Hannah’s funeral, I’d never seen Macy, never even met her. “I don’t remember you coming to visit her.”
“I didn’t,” she confessed.
That said it all.
“I couldn’t bear to see her so gravely ill, not Hannah. So I sent her things.”
“Things?”
“I wrote her poems and mailed her letters and pictures of Snowball and Lovie. And I knit her socks. And a shawl.”
I frowned. I suddenly remembered those multicolored socks and the letters; they’d made Hannah smile, when it didn’t seem possible I’d ever see her smile again. Without my knowing it, Macy had given me a gift I’d never expected.
I swallowed hard and turned to face her. “Thank you.”
She shrugged off my appreciation. “If you don’t want to see me anymore, I’ll accept that, I really will, but I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance.”
“So you can walk out on me again? So you can disappear at the first sign of trouble? So you can leave one more issue in your life unresolved? No thanks, Macy. I’ve learned my lesson.”
She nodded sadly. “Thank you for loving me for that little while, Michael,” she said. “It means more than you’ll ever realize.”
She walked past me, over to the door.
Without even knowing that I intended to do it, I reached out and touched her hand. I had the sinking sensation that if I let Macy walk away from me again, I’d always regret it, always wonder what we might’ve had together. After a moment, she turned back to face me, her eyes alight with hope. She must have read the love in my eyes because she sobbed and then walked into my arms as if that was where she belonged, where she was meant to be. I grabbed her blouse and bunched it up in the back as I held her against me and breathed in the scent and feel of her. I closed my eyes and savored just having her in my arms.
“I need you, Macy.” What would Hannah want? Ritchie had asked me that. Now I had an answer. Hannah had known I’d fall in love with Macy. Knew she’d be the perfect balance for me. Knew that Macy would teach me to laugh again.
“I need you, too,” she whispered.
We kissed then, with a hunger that threatened to consume us both. Her hands were in my hair, roving over my neck and down my back, restless in their movements. It would’ve been so easy to lead her to the sofa and make love to her right there in my office. Thankfully common sense prevailed. Once I’d regained control, I felt it was important to clear up a few things. “When we’re married, I’m not living in that fairy-tale house. I’ve got a very nice place and—”
“Uh-uh. We can’t leave Harvey,” she said firmly. She broke away and leaned back just far enough to study me.
“I’ll paint the house any color you want except white.”
“I like white,” I protested. “But you’re right about Harvey.”
“Green, then.”
“I am not living in a green house.”
“You really should give red and yellow a chance. You’d get used to it.”
“No, I won’t.” I wanted her to understand that I had my limits.
“Okay, I’ll paint it white, but I won’t like it and neither will my cats. They missed you, by the way.”
“Sure they did.” If they missed anything it was sleeping on my chest and digging their claws into me in the middle of the night just to see how loud I’d yelp.
“I want babies,” Macy said. “Lots of babies.”
“We’ll negotiate that.”
“Girls first. Two, I think, and then boys.”
“We generally don’t have a say in which comes first—
boys or girls.”
“Oh, right.”
I smiled. Hannah’s list had led me here. To Macy and the life we’d have together.
Hannah must be looking down on us right now, laughing that delighted laugh of hers and giving us her blessing.
* * * * *
®
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5468-2
HANNAH’S LIST
Copyright © 2010 by Debbie Macomber.
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