Mack Daddy(7)

“What are spectacles?” one of the girls interrupted.

“Spectacles are glasses. Just another word for them.” He resumed reading. “But Frankie was blind as a bat. She couldn’t see a thing. In the darkness of the night, it was even worse. Suddenly, a stranger crossed her path. At first, she was scared of this man. When he saw how frightened she was, he assured her that he wasn’t dangerous. He even offered his nightstick for protection.”

Nightstick. There was only one other time I could recall Mack using that term. This story sounded awfully familiar—vaguely like our first encounter. It occurred to me that this was just his own twist on it—one that was appropriate for children. I have to give it to you, Mack. Very clever. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.

Mack continued, “The man said the nightstick was magical and claimed it held the power to protect her from anything she was ever afraid of. The only thing was…she needed to hold onto it and never let go whenever she felt she needed it.”

He looked at me. My face must have been turning red. I shook my head at him.

Seeming amused, he continued telling the story. “Frankie believed the man’s tale and after that day carried the magic nightstick around with her almost everywhere she went. That is, until she spotted the man again in broad daylight, selling the nightsticks on a street corner for practically a dime a dozen. It was then that she realized her nightstick wasn’t magical at all. It had all been an illusion. Frankie then realized that she never needed anything to protect herself other than a new point of view. She believed something, and therefore it was.”

Wow.

Mack turned the page. “Frankie walked over to the man and gave him back her nightstick. She wasn’t mad. She just didn’t need it anymore. If anything, she was grateful. He’d given her a gift: the realization that she needed nothing but her own inner strength to be the person she wanted to be. Frankie now understood the power her own thoughts had over her. The magic wasn’t in the nightstick. It was inside of her all along. The End.”

In a way, I wanted to smack him, but honestly, it was brilliant. He’d completely morphed tidbits of our history in with Jonah’s situation. And the kids, who were clapping, loved the story and the funny illustrations that he’d drawn in crayon. They weren’t half-bad, although he’d made me look sort of like Peg from that PBS show, Peg and Cat.

Mack spent the next several minutes answering some questions and interacting with the kids about the meaning behind the story. Jonah remained quiet the entire time but seemed calm overall.

When his time was up, Mack closed the book and walked over to me.

“That was really interesting,” I said. “I have to give you credit. Nightstick? Pretty clever.”

“You liked that, huh? He smiled mischievously. “Well, I figured I might as well have a little fun with you while I’m here. The kids don’t know the difference anyway. They enjoyed the story. At least, I think they did.”

“They did. How long did it take you to come up with it?”

“Practically the entire week.” He laughed.

“Don’t you work?” I joked.

“I do, but I make time for things that are important to me.”

“Taunting me in cryptic ways is important to you?”

“The overall message was a positive one. No one knows you’re my Frankie.”

His Frankie.

“Your son knows you call me that.”

“I guess that’s true, but he doesn’t know the story. He’s never asked about it.”

Mack was giving me an intense look. I needed to get him out of here before he could see the effect he was having on me. He looked so sexy in jeans and a fitted, cable-knit sweater that hugged his chest. He smelled so effing good, too. I think it was exactly the same mix of cologne and body wash I remembered. Whatever it was, it emitted the same pheromones that always managed to drive me absolutely crazy. It had been a long time since I’d felt this kind of physical attraction toward someone.

“Well, thank you for coming in.”

Seeming to ignore my hint that he should leave, he continued staring into my eyes with that determined look and said, “Have coffee with me some afternoon this week.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mack.”

“What’s your hesitation?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I know you’re with someone. This isn’t a date I’m asking you for. I just want to talk to you face to face...without children around.”

I wanted to say yes, but the words just wouldn’t come out. There were too many reasons why going out with him even just for coffee would have been a bad idea.

“I don’t know. It just somehow seems inappropriate.”

“You’re making it out to seem like that, yes. It would only be coffee. Maybe a cookie if you’re nice.” He winked.

There it was again. That stupid shiver that ran through me anytime he winked.

I flinched when he reached out to move a stray hair out of my eyes. Just that simple grazing of his fingertip across my forehead made my pulse react.

“Just coffee, Frankie. We got off to a weird start, and I feel like I owe you more of an explanation of how we got to this place.”

As much as it felt wrong to be meeting him, a part of me couldn’t resist.