Mack Daddy(33)

She opened the door and got in.

I turned to her. “Where did you tell him you were going?”

“I told him I was meeting you. I don’t want to lie to him.”

“He’s okay with that? Is he nuts?”

“He appreciates my honesty.”

“I was surprised he knew who I was at the farmer’s market. What exactly does he know?”

“Everything. I told him the whole story last week.”

“Well, it takes a pretty confident guy to let his woman go out with another man.”

“You said you wanted to talk. It’s not a date. He knows that.”

Her words were a harsh reality check. As much as I’d wanted it to be, it wasn’t a date.

“Of course.”

As I was approaching the onramp to I-93, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No. I just wanted to steal you away. I don’t know where the f*ck I’m going, Frankie. Don’t know what the f*ck I’m doing, either. I just needed to see you.”

She leaned her head back against the seat, turning to me but stayed silent.

“Have you eaten?” I asked.

She smiled. “I could eat.”

I smiled back at her. She knew that whenever I used to ask her that question, she would always respond with, “I could eat.” Eating together had always been one of our favorite pastimes.

An idea popped into my head. “You think Sullivan’s is open this time of year?”

“I know they’re open,” she said.

“Have you been back there?”

“I’ve gone a few times.”

“With him or alone?”

“Alone.”

That was our place.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a parking spot at our old stomping grounds. Sullivan’s was a small, takeout joint by the water on Castle Island in South Boston. It wasn’t a great beach for swimming, but we used to like to sit overlooking water, watching the planes flying low as they landed into nearby Logan Airport.

The mid-November ocean was choppy, and it was freezing near the water, but I barely noticed those things.

Looking up at a 747 coming in, I spoke louder over the engine noise. “This feels so good, being here with you, watching the planes land. I’ve fantasized a lot about coming back to this place with you.”

Frankie quietly ate her grilled hot dog as she gazed out toward the water, the wind blowing her hair around erratically.

“Will you tell me how you met him?”

She wiped her mouth before clearing her throat. “I was taking a graduate class at B.U. He’s a professor there.”

“He was your teacher?”

“No. But we met there. I didn’t know he was a professor, at first.”

“How long after I left Boston did you start dating him?”

“A while after. We’ve been together two years now.”

“Were you with anyone before him?”

“I dated here and there, but Vic was the first serious relationship. I had a hard time connecting with anyone for a long time after you left.”

That was hard to hear. But it didn’t surprise me. I knew she cared deeply about me, and to this day, our chemistry was like nothing I had ever experienced. While it satisfied me somewhat to know she’d felt that way, it also hurt to hear that it took her a while to move on after my leaving. I never expected otherwise, though.

“What was different about him?”

“Everything. He respects me, appreciates all of my quirks—kind of like you did. And he takes care of me, makes me feel safe. I’ve never had anyone take care of me before. I’d always had to take care of myself. It was a nice change.”

“I promise I won’t joke about the daddy complex.”

“Look, you’re not totally wrong there. He’s been able to fill a void for sure. But I don’t like to think of it that way.”

I really didn’t want to envision him filling any of her voids.

“Does he want to marry you? I mean, he’s getting up there.”

“He says he wants spend the rest of his life with me, but he doesn’t place a lot of value in the institution of marriage. He says he’d do it if I wanted it. Same with kids. But he doesn’t need them to be happy, either. I know he enjoys his freedom.”

“Was he ever married before?”

“No.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“Right now? No.”

“Are you still sexually attracted to him?”

“My God, Mack, this is like the third degree. Why do you want to know that?”

I was done beating around the bush.

“I need to know where any points of weakness are.”

“Because you plan to try to steal me from him?”

“If you’re meant to be with him, I won’t be able to do that no matter how hard I try.”

“But you do plan to try.”

I plan to try like f*cking hell.

“I know I might be too late. I’m not stupid. But I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“What exactly do you plan to try?”