Mack Daddy(66)

“I always knew there was a chance that you could find out, but never did I imagine it would happen in such a horrible way. These people should be ashamed of themselves for putting you in this position. Have you talked to Mack? Does he know about this package?”

“I only got this a couple of hours ago. I was supposed to fly to D.C. this weekend. I don’t know exactly what he knows.”

Victor interrupted, “I don’t want you going anywhere near there. Anyone who would put you in this kind of position is pure evil. This woman is blackmailing you and putting everyone else involved in danger.”

I turned to my mother. “Not only am I grappling with the fact that you’ve kept this from me all of these years, but I can’t believe that Mack knew about this and didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I’m sure he probably didn’t know how to go about it.”

“I really think you should consider cancelling your trip,” Victor said.

Looking down at one of the newspaper articles, I allowed myself to see what he looked like for the first time. Although the ink was black and white, I could tell he had red hair like me. We had the same small pudgy nose and bone structure. There was no doubt.

“I do look like him.”

“That part was never a lie,” my mother admitted.

“I need some time alone. I’m gonna take all of this upstairs and read every word in private.”

“Please promise me you’ll call me when you’re ready to talk about it again. I need you to work on forgiving me.”

It hurt my brain to even think about how to go about doing that. “I understand why you thought you were doing the right thing. It’s just going to take me a lot of time to absorb this.”

“Okay.” My mother wiped tears from her eyes. “I understand. I love you, honey. Take all the time you need.”

After an hour alone sifting through all of the contents of that envelope, I decided that I couldn’t face Mack this weekend. I couldn’t bear to see him, knowing that he knew about this and didn’t tell me. At the same time, a part of me felt like it needed him more than ever.

When my phone rang and I saw that it was him, I debated whether or not to even pick up before I finally answered.

“Mack…”

“I’ve called you twice.” He sounded upset. “How come you didn’t call me back?”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling well.”

“No need to apologize. I just wanted to hear your voice, make sure everything was okay.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to come this weekend.”

“Are you serious? I really needed to see you.”

“I’m sorry.” I kept my words to a minimum because I didn’t know how to hide how upset I was.

Simply unable to pretend that I wasn’t devastated, I ended up cutting the phone call short. I couldn’t get over the fact that—at least according to Torrie—he knew about my father and still hadn’t mentioned anything.





The rest of that week had flown by in a fog. I’d gone through the motions at school, barely getting by.

Still unable to deal with talking to my mother, I’d spent most of my time in my room at Victor’s. He was being a true friend, joining me for dinners and offering his ear but not forcing me to talk about it, either. He’d also rounded me up the names of some therapists in the event I needed to see someone. Talking to a professional about my daddy issues was long overdue, but now the need seemed urgent.

Saturday afternoon, I remained holed up in my bedroom when the phone rang. It was Mack.

I picked up. “Hi.”

“I’m outside. Can you come down, or are you too sick to be out in the cold?”

“You’re here?”

“Yes. I just flew in.”

He was here?

“How come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“I didn’t want to hear you tell me not to come. I’m getting a vibe from you, and I haven’t been able to sleep. I needed to see you. I’m here until tomorrow night. Jonah’s with my sister.”

“Where are you staying?”

I couldn’t go back to my house because the realtor is showing it this weekend. So, I rented a room at the Beacon Hill Hotel around the corner from here. Grab a bag of your things and meet me out front.”

Hesitating for a moment, I realized there was really no way out of dealing with this. “Okay…I’ll be right down.”

I’d nearly forgotten how much I missed him. Mack was leaning against a car that was parked out front. He was wearing a navy wool coat and rugged boots under his jeans. His hair had grown out a bit longer, and his stubble was more shadowy than usual.

His warm kiss was a welcome contrast to the cold air. It was desperate and forceful. He took my hand as we walked in silence to the hotel just a few blocks away.

The room at the historic hotel was small but comfortable with windows that let in a lot of light. Mack sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me close, resting his head on my stomach as I stood before him.

Immediately, I started to cry. It was impossible to hide anything from him.

He looked up at me, and his eyes slowly widened. “You know?”

I nodded, unable to form the words.