Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(93)

"Looks good, doesn't she?"

I nodded, knowing Harvey couldn't see my response. But that was okay because he knew how I felt. I was so hungry for the sight of Macy, I would've crawled inside the TV set if I could have.

"Miss her, don't you?" he said with surprising gentleness.

"More than I could ever have guessed. You?"

"She's a pest." He sighed. "Never thought I'd say this, but it's downright lonely around this place without her."

"At least you've got Sammy."

"If you want him, come and get him," Harvey retorted. "He's all yours."

That was an empty promise if I'd ever heard one. "No, you keep him," I said.

"Sammy's company, all right," Harvey said next. "But half the time he's over at Macy's door, whining because he misses her and those darn cats. I swear I've never seen anything like it."

I was whining myself.

"You coming by tomorrow?" Harvey asked.

I squared my shoulders and my resolve. "No."

"Why not?"

"She isn't there, is she?"

"Not yet."

"Then I can't see any point in coming by." My friendship with Harvey was a good reason, but I preferred to keep in touch with him by phone. It was just too painful to visit her house, her neighborhood.

"You want me to call when she comes back?"

I had to give that some consideration. "No, I don't think so." I didn't mean to have a defeatist attitude, but I'd done all I could. As far as I was concerned, it was Macy's turn.

"No?" Harvey echoed in disbelief. "What's the matter with you, boy?"

First, I don't like being referred to as a boy, and secondly, Macy had been clear about what she wanted. And what she didn't want. The way I saw it, if she couldn't love me enough to see past our differences, a relationship between us had no potential.

"I gave it my best shot, Harvey," I said. "Macy doesn't want to be part of my life, so I'd better live with her decision."

"She loves you," he argued. "But she's afraid. She's never been in love like this before."

"I have," I reminded him. I knew what it meant to love someone else, the way Hannah had loved me, and this wasn't it. Macy might think she was in love with me, but her actions certainly contradicted that.

"Let the girl have a second chance," Harvey said.

I smiled at his feeble attempt to patch things up. He could argue all he wanted, but his arguments were irrelevant, since Macy was nowhere to be found.

I insisted I was done with Macy; nevertheless, I sat up for several hours, staring at the TV, flipping channels, looking for a repeat of the Safeway commercial just to see her again.

That said, I do have my pride. To prove I was getting over her, I accepted a blind date and actually had a semienjoyable evening. The woman, Carrie, was a friend of Melanie's, Patrick's wife. Carrie was a perfectly nice person, but she wasn't Macy. She had an easy laugh but she didn't make me laugh, didn't make me think or challenge me. Nor did she try to feed me cat food or drag in a stray dog to love and protect.

One date was all it took. I realized I wasn't nearly as over Macy as I'd hoped.

What particularly disturbed me was the fact that Macy had never finished the mural. It remained three-quarters completed. Every time I walked past it, I looked at that jungle scene, those parrots and that baby giraffe, and thought of Macy.

Nearly everything in her life seemed to be like this unfinished painting. She had good intentions, but one thing or another kept her from following through with what she started. Apparently, this translated into relationships, as well. I was just another unfinished project discarded along with the mural on my wall.

My guess was that this inability to complete anything went back to her childhood. In one of those lengthy phone conversations, during which we chatted for three or four hours, I'd learned that Macy had always been considered a bit odd by her family. They had little patience with her often-roundabout approach to things and her idiosyncratic views. And they rarely showed much interest in any project she undertook. The only person who understood and appreciated her had been her grandmother. I'd come to love her quirky nature, but I couldn't get past her ability to walk away from people and projects.

Linda caught me staring at the mural the first week of August. "Do you want me to find someone to finish it?" she asked.

"No, thanks."

"It's funny, isn't it, how she simply vanished like that?"

Funny isn't the word I would've used. "Yeah," I said and headed for my next appointment.

"Before you go in there, I need to tell you this is a new patient. He's, well, a bit of an unusual case."

I nodded. "Thanks for the warning." She wore a strange expression and I couldn't help wondering what was so different about this new patient. I soon found out.

When I walked into the room, I found Harvey sitting on the exam table, his legs dangling down so far they touched the floor. "Harvey," I said, unable to disguise my shock.

"I made my appointment like everyone else," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture.

"I'd like to remind you that I'm a pediatrician."