Protecting What's Mine(89)

“Don’t be silly, Mackenzie. I wouldn’t ask you if I thought your sister would be around. She moved away ages ago. It’ll be just you and me.” Her mother gave a shaky, sad sigh. “To be honest, I’m feeling just a little bit lonely these days.”

“Aren’t you seeing anyone?” Mack’s rules where her mother was concerned were simple. One, the rent money continued when Andrea was sober. Two, Mack had no responsibility to ever meet another “Uncle” Anyone or rebuild a relationship with her sister. She hadn’t met her mother’s last two husbands, holding a firm line when the wedding invitations arrived.

But she’d still sent gifts. And that irked her.

“It’s just me all by my lonesome these days.” Andrea sighed. “I’m afraid I’m starting to show my age and scaring off all the eligible bachelors.”

“Are you drinking, Mom?” Some mothers and daughters talked about work or dinner recipes or books or kids. Mack monitored her mother’s sobriety.

“Of course not. Sober as a judge, darlin’.”

She was too far removed anymore to tell lie from truth over the phone. And in Andrea’s mind, sometimes there wasn’t a difference.

“In fact, we’ve got more to celebrate than my little ol’ birthday. I got my one-year chip last week,” Andrea said, back to chipper.

“Congratulations, Mom,” Mack said, calling up the calendar on her desktop.

No new stepfather. No Wendy. And no drunken tantrums.

She could probably get away for a few days. Three max. And then she could put off the next visit for another two years. A reset on the guilt button.

“You can stay here in the guest room. And maybe you could take me out for a nice dinner?” Andrea’s voice rose hopefully.

“That sounds nice. I can probably get away.” Mack ignored the sick, cold dread that slid into her stomach. Her mother had a disease. Daughters, especially doctors, didn’t walk away from a parent because they were sick.

She heard a flurry of barking on her mother’s end of the call.

“Hush now, Gigi!”

“Did you get a dog?” Mack asked.

“I did! A couple of months ago. She’s a tiny little thing but barks like she’s a big dog. Anyway, I took a peek at flights from Philadelphia—”

“I’m not based in Philadelphia anymore,” Mack said. “I’m in Maryland.”

She’d had no idea her mother had gotten a dog, just like Andrea hadn’t known Mack moved.

“Oh, well. Isn’t that nice?”

And that was the extent of their small talk. Mack promised she’d confirm her travel dates. Andrea gleefully took responsibility for making a dinner reservation for her birthday dinner.

It would be somewhere fancy, with gold-rimmed plates, white linens, and tiny portions. If there was one thing her mother loved more than alcohol, it was appearances. In Andrea’s mind, the most important thing in the world was maintaining a certain level of respectability. She was never without makeup, false lashes, and heels. Even when she was shitfaced.

At one time, Mack had thought her mother beautiful. But the ugly truth that no lipstick or pretty dress could conceal never stayed hidden for long.

Mack disconnected, feeling the way she always did after a conversation with her mother: anxious, unsettled, and vaguely ill. She could use a strong hug and maybe a happy dog, she decided and picked up her keys.





The fire station’s bay doors were wide open as the B Shift volunteers buzzed in and out seeing to routine tasks. Bright lights, shiny trucks, and people doing what they’d promised to do. It was a balm to her irritated spirit.

She parked and got out, now feeling silly.

She should have texted first or, better yet, gone straight home. It wasn’t like she was going to tell Linc about her mother. That would open the doors to her childhood. And there was no reason to go digging into that mess. She was a survivor. Not a victim. And looking forward was healthier than looking back.

But there was a joyful bark, and Sunshine was galloping in her direction.

“Hey, buddy,” Mack said, kneeling down to give the dog a good scruff. She gave in to her need for comfort and buried her face in the soft, blonde fur.

Sunshine snuck in a kiss, and Mack laughed, wondering if her mother had found this kind of joy with her dog.

“I’d like to report a dognapping in progress,” Linc called through a bullhorn, strolling out of the garage. “Unhand the dog, lady.”

She rose, brushing dirt and dog fur off her pants. He was dressed in tactical pants and a long-sleeved BFD polo that fit him like a second skin. His ball cap was on backward, and there was a smudge of grease on his jaw. That cocky grin was exactly what she needed, as was the hard hug he gave her when she walked into his arms.

“This is a nice surprise,” he said, leaning back and lifting her off her feet to the whistles and hoots of appreciation from his crew.

“Hi,” she said, feeling the ice in her belly thaw into something molten and warm.

“How was your day, Dreamy?” he asked, setting her back on her feet and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

Before she could answer, the alarm blared.

Everyone around them jumped into action.

“What have we got?” Linc called over the noise as he dragged her inside.