Mack Daddy(31)

“You went up to me? To her?”

“Yeah.” He let out a slight, unamused laugh and shook his head. “I called out, ‘Frankie.’ When she turned around, obviously it wasn’t you. I felt like such a f*cking fool.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been all the way in Virginia. But I just wanted to believe it was you so badly.”

“What did the girl say to you?”

“Nothing. I apologized, letting her know I thought she was someone else then walked away in a daze. Torrie came back soon after carrying some bags. She kept asking me what was wrong that night. I guess I must have looked as spent as I’d felt. In some ways, it was harder than anything that had happened up until then. It was like I’d lost you all over again. It made me realize just how filled with regret I was, how much had been left unsaid.”

“What were you going to say to me? You know…if it were really me at that mall?”

“That’s the thing…I didn’t even know what I was going to say, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve made an absolute ass of myself, standing there blubbering away with a baby hanging off of me. It wasn’t meant to be that day. I made a vow in that moment, though, that if I ever did get the chance to see you again, that I wouldn’t f*ck it up, that I would come prepared. I promised myself that I would make my intentions crystal clear to you and wouldn’t waste the opportunity that the universe granted me.”

“Have you ever heard that song ‘Pictures of You’ by The Cure?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Every time I hear it, I think of you.”

“I’ll have to listen to it tonight.” Mack reached his hand toward my neck and removed my loose scarf, repositioning it around my neck. “Anyway, it’s cold. You’d better get into the car and blast the heat.”

Suddenly not wanting to leave him, I wasn’t sure what to say, so I simply responded with, “I’ll help you with the book fair stuff if you want. I’ve been involved with it before.”

“I would really appreciate that.”





Later that night, I was in bed when a text message lit up my phone.



Mack: That freaking song. Wow. I’d never listened to the words.



I typed.



Francesca: I know.



Mack: Now I can’t stop playing it.



I didn’t know what had compelled me earlier to admit that song reminded me of him. He’d shared the mall story with me. I guess I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in having feelings of regret and sadness over the years.



Mack: It always killed me that all I had left of you were the pictures I’d stashed away. How was it even possible that we never took one together, though?



Francesca: I know. I’ve wondered the same thing.



Mack: Anyway…I just wanted to let you know I love the song. Thank you for sharing that with me.



Francesca: You’re welcome.



Mack: By the way, I started looking at this catalog of children’s books for the book fair. I know which one I’m gonna order first.



Francesca: Which one?



Mack: It’s called Do You Want To Play With My Balls?



He sent me a picture of what looked like a children’s book featuring that same title.



Francesca: This can’t be real!



Mack: LOL. No, it’s not. It’s for adults. Did I just give you a heart attack?



It was one of many mini heart attacks he’d given me lately.



Francesca: This is totally something you would have given me as a gag gift back in college.



Mack: Back in college? It’s been ordered and is being shipped to you. Estimated delivery is Monday.



Francesca: Are you kidding?



Mack: Nope. Just don’t let the old man see. He might get excited and give himself a real heart attack.



Francesca: You’re crazy.



Mack: Goodnight, Frankie Jane.



Francesca: Goodnight, Mack.





It wasn’t a typical Saturday at all. I’d woken up determined to get Jonah out of the house and away from his electronic devices.

We drove into the city and got breakfast in the North End. The plan was that later we would go to the Museum of Science. At least there, if he didn’t feel like talking to me, there would be plenty for us to focus our attention on.

Deciding to kill some time after breakfast, we hit the farmer’s market. I’d promised Mrs. Migillicutty I’d bring her back some corn. Handing Jonah a bag, I told him to pick out any amount of fruit he wanted.

Almost immediately after that, I noticed a familiar, dainty hand squeezing an avocado. Another hand—not so familiar—was squeezing Frankie’s ass. I swallowed, taking in the sight of her and her boyfriend standing right in front of me. A cocktail of jealousy and adrenaline coursed through me.

Say something.

She hadn’t noticed me yet when I leaned in and said the first thing I could think of. “How the heck do you even know if they’re ripe anyway?”