Mack Daddy(44)

She finally moved from her spot at the window to the couch. She placed her head in her hands, but she wasn’t crying. She was processing. This conversation was eight years in the making and taking an emotional toll on us. But it needed to happen.

“What exactly happened that last night we were together, when we got drunk? I mean, you told me some vague stuff, but what exactly did I say to you?”

“You really want to know?” I laughed. “Let’s put it this way, if you said the same stuff to me right now, we wouldn’t be wasting time talking.”

Her face pinked up. “Maybe I don’t want to know. We never kissed?”

This was something I never told her.

“When I was helping you get dressed after the shower, you put your hand around the back of my head and tried to kiss me. I turned away—not because I didn’t want to kiss you, because Lord knows I’d never wanted anything more than to taste you that night. I stopped it because I didn’t want our first kiss to be a drunk one that you wouldn’t remember. At that time, I was certain I’d have lots of opportunities to do it right. But I have to admit, if there was one thought that rang out in my head more than any other these past several years, it was that I wished I had taken that damn kiss when I had the chance.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I lost all those years, only to end up in the same place, wanting you and wishing I hadn’t ever let you go. In retrospect, I often doubt my decision, actually. But I can’t control the past. All I can control is my life moving forward. I’m trying to take it back as much as possible while still being the kind of father Jonah needs. Having you here in my house is surreal. You’re still my Frankie in some ways, and in other ways you’ve changed. ”

“In what ways do you see that I’ve changed?”

“It’s not a bad thing. I’m not sure I even know how to explain it. I wanna say it’s like some of your quirkiness got swallowed up by a sophisticated maturity.”

She laughed. “Believe me, the weirdness is still there. But you’re right. I’m a bit different than I was back then, more guarded, maybe. What happened with us actually had a huge impact on my life.”

“I need you to tell me what happened after I went back to D.C.”

Frankie looked sad as she reluctantly remembered. “I was depressed and lonely for a long time. But I was still a better person for having experienced our relationship. You always made me feel special, and you helped me come out of my shell. I don’t regret you, Mack. It’s important that you know that. If there was a choice between erasing it or experiencing it all over again, I would choose the latter.”

That was a relief to hear.

“I would never erase a second of it,” I said.

“I don’t think I ever really got over losing you. But I learned to put it away somewhere inside me because I had no choice. I knew lamenting about what I’d lost with you—what never had a chance to be—wasn’t going to change anything. Don’t get me wrong, thoughts of you always crept in no matter how hard I tried, especially on holidays and each year when I knew your son would be a year older. I’d wonder how you were handling it all and sometimes, I’d feel guilty, too.”

“You’d feel guilty? Why?”

“Because first and foremost, I was your friend. Because I couldn’t handle my own feelings, I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I knew that the pregnancy blindsided you. I knew that you weren’t prepared. I knew that you needed support that you probably weren’t getting from your family. Yet, I still couldn’t be there for you, because I wasn’t strong enough to handle what that would’ve meant for me.”

“I never considered that you would ever feel guilty.”

“I did.”

“The moment Jonah was born was the first time I’d really let everything out. I remember bursting into tears, and it was this odd mix of emotions. It was amazing that I could feel instant love for this being that I’d never met. Before he was born, I’d been afraid that I would never feel it. I was terrified of what it would do to him as he got older if he sensed I didn’t want him. So, knowing that the love came naturally was a relief. But I was also thinking of what I’d lost that day. Every moment, I was thinking of you, and I couldn’t help it. A part of me wanted to call you and tell you.”

“I would’ve listened if you did.”

I’d had it with the tense conversation.

“Look, I think we’ve done enough talking for one night. It’s getting dark. You must be hungry.”

“I could eat.”

When she smiled, I returned it. The mood had officially lightened. Thank f*ck.

She followed me into the kitchen. “What are you gonna make me, Morrison?”

I didn’t have to think too long about that one. “Spaghetti,” I said proudly.

“Really?”

“Yup. Spaghetti. I’d love to make some for you.”

“Since when do you cook?”

“Since I became responsible for nourishing another human being on weekends.”

“I suppose that would warrant learning how to do it.”

“Well, I learned to boil water, at least. And I can use a microwave. I can microwave a mean pile of bacon. Basically, if you can cook it by nuking it, I can make it.”