Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(78)

"Okay, forty years younger," he amended. "What did you say to Macy, anyway? I've never seen her this upset, outside of losing her grandmother, that is."

I wasn't spilling my guts to this old coot. "I didn't say anything."

"In case you don't know it, young man, Macy is mighty special. I can't understand why she cares about you, but then I don't know why she pesters me with all this attention, either."

"Did she say when she'd be back?" I asked, more eager to learn what she was upset about than to discuss his theories about her emotional attachments.

He shook his head. "You want to come inside for a beer?" he asked abruptly.

"Okay. As a matter of fact, I'd love one." I had nothing more pressing to do and Macy would return eventually; I might as well stay here.

"Good." When he held open the screen door, Sammy and I trotted into the house. Lowering himself onto his recliner, Harvey told me to retrieve the beers. When I joined him, he turned off the evening news. I sat down across from him on the couch, while Sammy lay on the rug, next to Harvey's chair.

"You had dinner?" I asked.

"Don't have much of an appetite these days."

"How about a pizza?"

He considered the suggestion, then shrugged. "Sounds as good as anything else."

I took out my cell. After more than a year of fending for myself, I had my favorite pizza delivery service on speed dial. I ordered the usual, then sat back and relaxed, gulping down a refreshing mouthful of beer.

"She has a private place she'll go for a few hours when she's upset," Harvey said. "Don't know where it is. She's never told me, but my guess is she likes to walk along the Hood Canal. I'm sure she'll be back soon--those cats want feeding."

I put down my beer. "You love her, don't you?" Most of the time, the old man pretended otherwise.

He snorted and looked me in the eye. "So do you."

I began to argue and realized I was no different than Harvey. I hid my feelings, too, dodged emotions and their uncertainty, their messiness. Hannah had been the keeper of our emotional life. Now I was finding my way through this strange new existence.

Harvey's eyes pierced straight through me. "Admit it. You love her."

"Yeah, I guess I do," I said reluctantly.

The old man shook his head. "Damn shame," he muttered.

"What is?"

"She loves you, too. I'd always sort of hoped she'd marry me," he said. His serious expression shocked me until I realized he was joking. Harvey joking? That was a switch.

He grinned and it seemed as though his facial muscles were stiff, unaccustomed to smiling. What I'd done to deserve his smile I couldn't begin to guess.

I sat on the couch with my beer as we waited for our promised thirty-minutes-or-it's-free pizza delivery. "Before she died, my wife wrote me a letter," I said, unsure what had prompted this sudden confidence.

Then, before I could decide whether I should, I told Harvey everything. After having read Hannah's letter countless times, I repeated it to him almost verbatim.

Harvey listened, not interrupting even once to ask questions.

"It took me a long time to understand why Hannah included Macy," I finished.

He arched his brows as if to say that was the stupidest remark he'd ever heard. "You'll figure it out soon enough. You're still young. In another thirty years, you might wise up."

I laughed. He meant it as an insult, but I didn't take offense.

"You married a wise woman," he said next.

"I did." When people mentioned Hannah, I used to feel overwhelmed by grief and sadness. All I could think about was what I'd lost. Now I was starting to understand what I'd been given in the years we'd had. That time together had been a priceless gift.

Another thought struck me and it was like being prodded out of sleep into wakefulness. A moment later I was on my feet.

"You going somewhere?" Harvey asked.

"No...I was thinking." My mind was still spinning. I'd been given another chance. Macy was that chance. Through Hannah's wisdom and the grace of God, I'd found Macy.

A car door closing caught my attention and I reached for my wallet to pay for the pizza.

"It's Macy," Harvey announced, looking out the window.

I didn't need him to say another word. Opening the door, I ran down the steps.

Macy stopped when she saw me. She seemed to brace herself, as if she felt apprehensive about what I'd say.

I didn't hesitate. I ran down the walk and straight toward her. Not giving her a second to protest, I slid my arms around her waist and lifted her from the sidewalk. Then I buried my face in her shoulder and breathed in the scent of lavender and paint and Macy....

"I'm sorry I left," she whispered. "I had to get away."

"Why?"

"I was...afraid."

"Of me?" I asked.

"Yes. No. I'm afraid of falling in love with you."

I set her on the ground and held her face in my hands. "Am I so terrible?"

"Oh, no! You're wonderful. Too wonderful." "Oh, Macy..."

"You'll get tired of me and angry because...I'm different." "You're beautiful."