Mack Daddy(3)

I looked down, remembering how he’d teased me about the same thing the first time we met. My face felt hot. “I see you’re a bit less crude in your terminology now. Must be the age.”

“Not really. My humor is still pretty immature and crass. But this is not exactly the place to demonstrate that.”

“No, it isn’t.“ I cracked a reluctant smile.

He winked.

It was amazing how one simple movement of his eyelid could do a multitude of things to my entire body. My physical reaction to him was certainly one thing that hadn’t changed a bit. I had no clue how I was going to survive this year.

“I have to go,” I said.

Ignoring my need to leave, he asked, “What happened to your glasses?”

“Lasik surgery. Don’t need them anymore.”

“Wow. I never thought you’d have the guts.”

“Yeah. It was actually fairly seamless. I, uh, noticed Jonah’s glasses are pretty thick.”

“He has crappy eyesight like you did, so he needs to wear them. Of course, he doesn’t wear funky turquoise or purple frames like you used to. Whenever I look at his glasses, they remind me of you, though.” He smiled. “But a lot of things remind me of you.”

His stare was once again making me uncomfortable, so I turned to open the door, pausing when he spoke from behind me in a thick voice.

“It’s so good to see you again, Frankie.”





Victor spoke with his mouth full. “Tell me all about your day, darling.”

I lived with my boyfriend, Victor, in Boston’s Beacon Hill. His two-story brownstone condo had more room than we knew what to do with.

Vic was an anthropology professor at Boston University, my alma mater. We’d met two years ago through mutual friends at B.U. Seventeen years my senior, he was the only older man I’d ever dated. He took care of me well, made me feel safe, and provided me with anything I needed. On the outside looking in, I was truly living the perfect life.

There was a light fall breeze coming in through the window as the sun set. The faint traffic noises from busy Cambridge Street below were the only sounds. I looked up at the dark wood molding surrounding the built-in shelves in our dining room and finally answered his question.

“Honestly, I felt very overwhelmed today. Missing that orientation was a mistake. They’ve stuck me with twenty-six kids, and a couple of them have some really significant needs.”

“I’m sorry. That’s really unfair of them to do.” Victor picked the cauliflower out of his vegetable medley and took another bite. He always ate his mixed vegetables one kind at a time.

“Well, you know, each extra kid is a lot of additional revenue for the school. They just don’t pay us teachers more to compensate for the extra work.”

“You know you don’t ever need to worry about money, right? So, don’t let that stress you out.”

“I know. It’s not that. I just know it’s going to be a challenging year.”

He examined my face. “Something else is bothering you.”

I couldn’t tell him. I just couldn’t tell him about Mack. I’d never mentioned Mack at all to Victor. What was the point? I’d been trying to forget what happened, and it was several years ago anyway. Despite the urge to blurt out, “Oh, and the man who broke my heart showed up randomly, too,” I chose to continue to keep that quiet.

“There’s a student who has some pretty significant anxiety. He avoids the other kids, in general, and has these minor freak outs when he gets nervous, tries to leave the classroom.”

My entire day had been consumed by my obsessive observation of Mack’s son. Since his needs were not considered developmental, he didn’t qualify for any special services. The school didn’t specialize in anxiety disorders, and neither did I, aside from my own personal experience battling them. I understood why Mack felt that I was a good fit for Jonah. He’d seen me suffer my share of the same issues back when we knew each other.

I spent the remainder of dinner quietly obsessing. Seeing Mack today was a shock to the system, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Victor had gone upstairs with a glass of Cognac to relax and correct some of his students’ assignments. I planned to join him for the eleven o’clock news later. It was the same routine every night, for the most part.

When my cell phone rang at nine-thirty, my heart dropped. No one generally called me on a weeknight at that time. Even though I didn’t recognize the number, my gut told me it was him.





She answered, “Hello?”

I closed my eyes at the sound of her voice, fighting the longing it triggered inside of me with every bit of energy I had left today.

“Frankie, it’s Mack.”

“You can’t be calling me at home like this.”

My stomach sank.

Great.

She f*cking hates me.

“This is your cell phone, isn’t it? It was in the email you sent to all of the parents. You said to call you anytime if we needed you.”

I need you.

“I know, but…it’s late.”

“I needed to hear your voice, to know I didn’t totally freak you out today.”

She laughed a little. “Well, sorry, I can’t say that, because you absolutely did.”