Vision in White Page 72


“If I’d made the move, Del would’ve beaten me to death with a shovel. Nobody messes with his girls.”

“He does know we’ve all had sex.”

“He prefers to pretend otherwise, but none of you have had sex with me. To my misfortune. That’s key.”

“I guess you’re right about that. Besides, while logically we may seem suited, we’d end up fighting over drawer space and hating each other. Carter makes room. He’s got the innate ability to open up and accept.”

“Got the starry eyes on you,” Jack commented. “So how does it work? Who takes the wedding photographer’s pictures when she walks down the aisle?”

“Aisle?” She choked on her beer. “I never said anything about aisle. I’m not—we’re not. What makes you think we’re thinking about getting married? Where’d that come from?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He swiveled on his stool, gestured at the walls lined with wedding photos. “Being surrounded maybe, added to the starry eyes.”

“That’s business. Those are business. Just because I think about weddings doesn’t mean I’m thinking about a wedding.”

“Okay, no need to go to Crazytown.”

“I’m not. I’m just—” She sucked in a breath. Marching to her desk, she came back with a large pad and a pencil. “Sketch. Earn the beer.”

SHE SPENT THE REST OF THE EVENING STICKING WITH THE PLAN. AS the hills and piles became more manageable, her stress level decreased, and a sense of accomplishment rose. She’d have her living space back, and better than ever in no time, she thought. She’d feel more in control then.

It was nice to have the evening alone, to deal with her own business, to have her own space. She could do that and miss Carter at the same time. In fact, doing that meant she was handling the relationship.

Love him, love being with him, but be perfectly content to spend time on her own. Unlike—

When the phone rang, she checked the readout.

Linda.

Mac closed her eyes, reminded herself she couldn’t avoid speaking to her mother forever. Avoiding calls was childish. Confront and stand your ground, she told herself.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Mackensie, you have to come! Please, please, come right away.”

Alarm ripped straight through annoyance, and had Mac’s heartbeat jagged with fear. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Hurry. Oh, you have to come. I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you hurt? Have you—”

“Yes. Yes, I’m hurt. Please help me. I need you. Please help me.”

“Call nine-one-one. I’m on my way.”

She flew out of the house, grabbing a coat on the fly. Dozens of images, each worse than the last rushed through her mind. A suicide attempt, an accident, a break-in.

Icy, treacherous roads, she thought as she risked life and limb and punched the speed through the nasty fall of freezing rain. A careless driver in the best of circumstances, Linda could’ve wrecked that toy car of hers, and—

No, no, she’d called from home, not the cell. She was home.

Mac fought to keep control of the wheel, gripped it with hands that wanted to shake, as she rounded a curve too fast for safety.

She fishtailed to the curb in front of her mother’s dollhouse Cape Cod, ran up the slippery walk to the door. She found it unlocked. The thought of break-in shoved through the door with her.

Had she been raped? Beaten?

She leaped over a shattered vase of roses, into the living room where Linda lay curled on the floor, weeping.

“Mom! Mom, I’m here.” She dropped to the floor beside Linda, frantically checking for injuries. “Where are you hurt? What did he do? Did you call the police, an ambulance?”

“Oh! I want to die!” Linda turned her ravaged, tear-streaked face into Mac’s shoulder. “I can’t bear it.”

“No, don’t say that. It’s not your fault. I’ll call for help, and we’ll—”

“Don’t leave me!”

“I won’t. I won’t.” Rocking, she stroked her mother’s hair. “It’s going to be all right, I promise.”

“How can it be? He’s gone. He left me here.”

“Did you get a good look at him? Was it someone you knew?”

“I thought I knew him. I trusted him with my heart. And now he’s gone.”

“Who?” Rage boiled inside her burning off the fear. “Who did this to you?”

“Ari. Of course, Ari. I thought I meant something to him. He said I’d brought the light back to his life. He said all these things to me, then he does this. How could he do this to me? How could he be so cruel?”

“It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. He’ll pay for it.”

“He said it was an emergency. There wasn’t time. It had to be tonight. What difference could a few days make? How could I have known my passport had expired?”

“What?” Mac jerked back. “What are you saying? What exactly did he do?”

“He’s gone to Paris. To Paris, Mac. He left without me. He called from his plane. He said he had to go tonight. Some business that couldn’t wait the way he’d promised he would so I could get the passport straightened out. Business.” Fury burned through the flood of tears. “Lies. It’s another woman, I know it. Some French whore. He promised me, and now he’s gone!”

Mac got slowly to her feet as Linda wept into her hands. “You called me, this time of night, let me think you were hurt.”

“I am hurt! Look at me.”

“I am looking at you. I see a spoiled, angry child having a tantrum because she didn’t get her way.”

“I love him.”

“You don’t know the meaning. God, I nearly killed myself getting here.”

“I needed you. I need someone. You’ll never understand what that’s like.”

“I hope not. There’s water and glass all over your floor. You’re going to want to clean that up.”

“You’re not leaving? You’re not leaving me alone like this.”

“Yes, I am. And next time, I won’t come. For God’s sake, Linda, grow up.”

She kicked broken glass out of her way, and walked out.

Prev Next