Protecting What's Mine(97)

Mack: Just got to my mom’s house. Hope Sunshine keeps you company, Hotshot.





She waited, hoping for a response. But when none arrived immediately, she decided she was being an idiot and stashed her phone in her bag.

He’d offered to come with her when she told him about the impromptu trip. A laughable idea, considering. But it had warmed her heart and made her even more determined to get through the visit.

She eyed her suitcase in the rearview mirror. There was no need to cart it inside right this second. She could easily come out and get it when she needed it. Or drive off without a scene if things got too intense.

“Mackenzie!” Her mother greeted her with an effusive and out-of-character hug. “I’m so glad you made it. Come in. Come in.”

Andrea was dressed in a pink jogging suit. Her nails were long and disco-ball silver. Her hair—platinum blonde now—was piled and pinned on top of her head. Mack felt guilty at the relief that coursed through her. They no longer looked like each other. Maybe that meant any other similarities had also disappeared.

But the relief didn’t last. It never did where her mother was concerned.

The first hint that something was off was the pair of men’s loafers on the floor in the foyer.

“Whose are those?” Mack asked, pulling back from the hug and pointing at the shoes.

“Oh, those old things? They’re Tony’s.”

On cue, a man with a big belly and a bowling shirt sauntered down the hallway. His receding hairline was partially disguised by a greasy combover.

“Oh, hey. You must be Kenzie,” he said. He sounded more Bronx than Illinois to Mack’s ear. “I was beginning to think your mom here was pulling my leg about having two daughters. You don’t visit?”

“Mackenzie’s a doctor in the military,” Andrea cut in.

Mack didn’t bother correcting her. It wouldn’t stick anyway, she judged by the glass of wine her mother picked up from the coffee table.

“Hi,” she said flatly to Tony. “So you two are seeing each other?” She couldn’t even pretend to be interested.

“Ha! A little more than that,” he scoffed.

Andrea made a show of holding up her left hand and squealing when the big pink diamond that Mack was eighty-five percent sure was fake caught the fluorescent light from above. “We’re getting married! Surprise!”

Mack knew the reaction that was expected from her but just couldn’t muster it. Her mother wasn’t alone. She wasn’t sober. She’d just moved on to husband whatever number he was and probably wanted to pressure Mack on a wedding gift. And Mack had been paying his rent for who knows how long.

“So I was thinking, wouldn’t it be romantic to go to Mexico for a honeymoon?” Andrea began, clasping her hands under her chin and cocking her head at Mack.

And here was the ask.

It was too warm in this tight space. The light was harsh, accenting the deep lines carved into her mother’s face around the eyes, across her forehead. Her skin, once fresh and lovely, now had a sallow tint to it.

“Top you off, honey bear?” Tony offered, wiggling a wine bottle.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” Andrea giggled.

Mack felt like she was going to throw up. Once again, it was all just lies. And she’d walked right into it. Not only walked into it but bought a plane ticket, rented an SUV, and showed up on the doorstep. She wasn’t sure who she was more disappointed in, herself or her mother.

It was then that she heard the noise on the stairs, saw the bare feet, the familiar tattoo of thorns wrapped around an ankle. Anger, swift and bright, crashed over her.

“What’s with the screaming?” Wendy asked with a yawn. She’d obviously just gotten up for the day at four p.m. Her hair was dark like Mack’s, but she added bright purple streaks and extensions. Yesterday’s eye makeup was smeared under choppy, uneven bangs. She was thinner than Mack remembered. Paler. But Mack wouldn’t mistake that for weakness.

“Your sister’s here, and we just told her the good news,” Andrea announced grandly. “Wendy moved back home! Isn’t that wonderful?” she crowed to Mack.

Wendy eyed Mack coolly. She strolled down the steps and brushed past Mack to get to the pink purse hanging on a hook inside the door. She reached inside and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Mack’s here to help us celebrate my birthday. She’s taking us all to dinner tomorrow night,” Andrea said brightly. “My girls are always surprising me,” she said in an inaccurate aside to Tony.

It was then that Mack noticed the shake in her mother’s hand, the unsteadiness of her gate in the four-inch feathered stilettos under the jogging pants.

Andrea had a deep love of alcohol and had always been good at hiding it.

“Are you drunk?” Mack asked.

Andrea hiccupped and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oopsie!”

Tony laughed adoringly. Wendy blew a cloud of smoke in Mack’s face.

“You said you were all alone,” Mack said. “You said you were sober, that she wouldn’t be here, and that you were all alone for your birthday.”

Andrea waved the words away, wine sloshing over the rim of her glass and spilling onto her pants. “What in the world are you talking about? I swear, this girl should have been a writer, the stories she makes up.”