"What'll it be?"
"Anything hot," Delancey told him.
"Hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please."
Delancey used the bathroom and then waited by the wall until Kyle returned. It took about ten minutes, but it was worth it when he handed her a hot dog, a huge bag of popcorn, and a large mug of hot chocolate. She thanked him with extreme pleasure, but not wanting to presume, asked kindly if he wanted her to pay for hers.
He shook his head and smiled. "My treat, but you know, by the time we walk back up, these hot dogs will be cold. Why don't we eat them here?"
Delancey didn't need to be asked twice. The aroma had made her feel famished. She was just finishing her mustard-covered dog when Kyle surprised her.
"I'm not as bad as you thought I would be, am I?"
Delancey's face heated. She hadn't thought herself quite so transparent. "I'm sorry, Kyle, but I had a bad experience with a blind date last month."
"Let me guess-he wanted to kiss you."
Delancey nodded. "I didn't want that no matter what, but it certainly didn't help that he didn't say ten words the entire evening and all he could do was stare at me."
Kyle could relate to the guy's feelings, but he had a little more control.
"Well," he kept his voice casual and kind, "just so you know, I won't try to kiss you. I'd like to," he added, which made Delancey smile, "but I won't."
"Thank you."
"If you change your mind," he had her laughing now, "just let me know."
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"I'll do that."
"Tell me, Delancey," he said, suddenly serious. "If I find myself in town on a weekend when you're free, would you go out with me again?"
Delancey didn't even need to consider. "I'd like that, Kyle."
She let her eyes meet his. With his sandy brown hair and brown eyes, he was really quite handsome, and sweet in the bargain. She also loved it that he was a few inches taller than her 5' 10" frame.
"You're going to make it hard to go south on Sunday afternoon," he said softly, and with the way his eyes dropped to her mouth, Delancey knew he wanted to kiss her. She chose not to comment but smiled at the compliment, offered him some popcorn, and allowed him to take her arm and lead her back to their seats.
Arlington
Delancey is seeing someone,Marrell's letter to Mackenzie started out.
We haven't met him, but he's the brother of one of her teachers. They met on a blind date, and I can tell by the way she talks that she cares for him. Not since face Booth, who ended up being a friend more than anything else, has Delancey liked anyone enough to do much dating, but Kyle Brinks-that's his name-comes up every other weekend, and they go out all weekend long.
Mackenzie sat back and thought about her sister. She was a beautiful woman, but her mother was right-she hadn't dated much at all in high school, even opting to miss some of the big events like homecoming and prom. Mackenzie had usually had a date to the main events, but she wasn't asked out all month long like Delancey was. Mackenzie didn't want to analyze it anymore and read on.
Itrust she's thinking well about what she wants, and she's very good about telling us where she's gone and what they did. We met Mr. Brinks one time-he's the teacher-and he seems very nice. I only hope his brother is as well. I'm not
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worrying that D.J. will make a foolish choice so much as 1 don't want her hurt or getting serious at 18. You're probably calling me a worrywart right now. I'm trying not to be, but all these things come to mind when your daughter is dating.
Enough of that. How are you, dear? Have you seen much of Paxton these days, or is he still immersed inJodi?Is it lonely for you? I hope not. I know that the move to the Pentagon is on your mind, and I also know that you 're good at your job, but I can't help wishing you could get out and have some fun too.
Do you ever think about going to church, Mic? I'm sure you could find one that would have sound Bible teaching, and I wish that. . .
Mackenzie began to skim but finished the letter before going back to the part about Paxton. She smiled. She had seen him that very evening. She had just been getting started on the indoor track when she looked up to find him watching her. He had finished his workout, so she stopped and went over to him.
"I'd hug you, but I haven't showered yet," he said with a smile.
"I'll take one anyway," Mackenzie said back, grinning and accepting his embrace.
"You're just getting started?"
"Yes. Are you on your way out?"
"Yes, but I had to get a little time in-too much of Jodi's cooking."
"You worry too much about your looks," Mackenzie told him with a shake of her head.
"Spoken like a 19-year-old."
This had made her laugh, and for a moment, and even after she left the spa, she missed him. Her roommates led their own lives these days. Aimee grew more religious with every week. Both Beth and Janelle had steady males in their lives, and Beth was on the verge of engagement.
Mackenzie's writing was starting to flag, not from lack of ideas, but because she was tired of sitting in her bedroom night after night. Her job was still fulfilling, but with the transfer around the corner, she was restless. At least her family was coming in three weeks.
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Mackenzie's eyes skimmed back over the letter and caught the question about church. It wasn't that she hated the thought of going, but Sunday was one of the few days she could sleep in. Aimee went to church on Saturday nights, but Mackenzie knew she didn't want to do that. She didn't knowwhatshe wanted, but at the moment, she found it easier not to think about it at all.
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Twenty-Seven
Mackenzie took the Metro to the airport. Sheknew that Jack had planned to rent a car, but she could not wait to see them. It took a little walking, but she was at their gate in plenty of time. It was dark outside, so she didn't try to stand at the glass but positioned herself where she could see them come up the jetway from the plane. It felt like forever, but was in fact only moments later that they were all trying to hug her at once.
Mackenzie was so glad to see them that she didn't care that they looked older. It was the first time she ever remembered noticing their age. Her mother still looked like a woman in her thirties, but she had changed her hairstyle, and that had matured her. Jack's hair and mustache were getting gray. Even Delancey, who had cut her hair to right below her ears, had an older look. It made Mackenzie wonder how they saw her.
"That was the longest plane ride," Delancey wasted no time in saying. "I forgot just how much I hate airline food."
Mackenzie laughed. "Well, don't expect much at the apartment. I live on cereal and the occasional meal out."
"A bowl of Cheerios will do just fine."
"Let's get our luggage," Marrell suggested.
Mackenzie caught her sister's arm and started her down the terminal. Marrell watched as the girls walked close together, their mouths and hands going faster than their legs.
"I think that's one of the things I miss the most," Jack said as he too watched them. "They have such a special relationship."
"I think they bring out the best in each other."
"It runs in the family," Jack said in his romantic way. "You bring out the best in me."
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Marrell smiled up at him.
"For some reason, it's at times like this that I think about Paul. He would be so proud of all of you."
"Isn't that funny," Marrell countered. "I think more of you at times like this because of the way you treat the girls. You love them as if they were your own, and I don't know how normal that is."
"Who told you I was normal?" he asked, crossing his eyes.
Marrell laughed and let the matter drop. The airport suddenly seemed crowded, and with the girls out of sight, the time shorter than ever. They rushed to catch up with the visiting sisters.
The family went out to dinner and checked into the hotel. Then Jack and Marrell dropped the girls off at
the apartment with plans that they would pick them up in the morning to go car shopping.
"What's with Aimee?" Delancey whispered, once the door of Mackenzie's room was closed. The other girl had met her but then immediately gone back to her Bible reading.
"I think she struggles with being so far from home," Mackenzie answered, trying to be kind. "I went with her to church one Sunday. She told me it makes her feel better to go, but I'm not sure why. All they did was listen to a man read from a book and do a lot of repeating."
Mackenzie's room was a little bit of a surprise, until Delancey remembered that her sister had never been into shopping. Her double-size bed had a nice spread on it, but she had no headboard or chair, and her dresser was very small. About the only thing that gave evidence of caring was the computer desk and chair, and the computer itself. She didn't even have a printer. Somehow it felt good to know that she had not changed.
"How do you like your computer?" Delancey asked.
"I like it."
"Does it make you want to start writing again?"
Mackenzie was so quiet that Delancey looked at her.
"Mic," she said, her voice low, "what have you not told me?"
Mackenzie looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Deej, but there's no privacy on the phone here. Someone is usually around, and
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I've just become so accustomed to not talking about it to Pax that I haven't told anyone."
"What are you writing?"
"A full-length novel, sort of an action-thriller."
"Mackenzie!" Delancey threw her arms around the older girl. "I can't believe it. Tell me about it."
"Well, I'll tell you one of the exciting parts, not all the lead- up with his military career and all that." Mackenzie's voice and face became all at once animated. "My protagonist is named Vaughn Ramsey."
"I like the name, but tell me the title first," Delancey said anxiously.
"Access Denied."
"Oooh." Delancey was awestruck. "Okay, go on!"
"I will, D.J., but you need to understand that I'm not even willing to talk to Mom and Jack about it. This is really private for me."
"Okay. I won't say anything. Just give me the overall rundown."
"I think Vaughn is a little like Dad-you know, a great soldier and dedicated, but after 20 years in the service, he gets passed over for an advancement that he really wants. It's only the first time, so he's not automatically out of the Army, but he's so frustrated that he gets out as soon as he can and goes to work for a man named Doyle. Vaughn is so low about all that's happened that he doesn't really check Doyle out. If he had, he would have found out that Doyle's dealings are not all that clean. When Doyle sends Vaughn to France, supposedly to escort his daughter home, he ends up running through the streets of Paris with this woman and trying everything in his power to keep them both alive. He doesn't find out for five more chapters why they're even running."
"Why are they?"
"A microchip."
"What's on it?"
Mackenzie smiled. "Actually stored on the chip? Nothing. But on the chip itself is the number of a private bank account holding money stolen in the 1930s."
"How much money?"
"By now, millions."
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Delancey could only stare at her sister.
"Oh, Mic, I can't believe you're doing it. I'm mean, you'rereallydoing it. You've got to talk to Paxton. With his connections, you're a shoo-in."
"That's just it. I can't talk to Pax. He's such a good friend, and you wouldn't believe how many times he's told me how he hates it when he gets roped in by an aspiring writer and has to listen to him carry on."
"But you'll have a book to show him, not just some story in your head."
Mackenzie shook her head. "I still won't. Even if Pax was interested, there's a side to the industry I can't stand. In some ways I don't want to have anything to do with being published."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think I ever told you this, but I met Carson Walcott."
"The playwright?" Delancey was stunned.
"One and the same. He's nothing but a letch."
"You're kidding." Delancey looked completely deflated.
"No." Mackenzie actually managed to smile. "We were sitting in a theater together, his date on the other side of him, and he actually ran his hand up and down my leg. I dashed out of there, and Pax followed me. He grabbed my arm, and since I thought it was Walcott, I put him flat on his back."
Delancey had had a long day, and as the scene formed in her mind, she started to giggle. She let herself fall back on Mackenzie's bed, laughter overtaking her.
"I don't suppose Paxton thought it very funny."
"Not at the time, but he's teased me since."
"And because of Carson Walcott, you don't want to do this?"
"It wasn't just Carson. Pax was very understanding, but he basically said I was the first woman he had dated who didn't see that kind of flirting as business and was actually bothered by the incident. I told him I would never live like that."
Delancey sat up suddenly. "There are ways around it, Mic."
"Like what?"
"Like a nom de plume. No one need ever know the work is yours. I just got done reading about Franco Bershevea, who died earlier this year."
"I've never heard of him."
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"You would have if you had studied art, and he is a she. Her real name is Frances Butts. She was an American woman, not a Frenchman, and no one even knew until she died. Her painting style is known all over the world."
Mackenzie thought the idea intriguing but still wouldn't consider talking to Paxton Hancock about her book. She wasn't sure her sister would understand, but it just wasn't worth it to her.
"I think I just want to do this for me," Mackenzie finally said, her voice soft but sure.
Delancey nodded and gave no argument. She'd used those words to Lovisa and understood completely. Thinking of the illustrated story that was sitting in the bottom of her suitcase made her want to rub her hands together. If she started laughing or smiling, she was going to give herself away. She opted to say she needed to use the bathroom, which was true. Mackenzie never suspected a thing, but all the way out the door, Delancey told herself this was going to be the best Christmas they had ever had.
The time between Christmas and Mackenzie's move to the Pentagon went by so swiftly that she could barely remember it. The first half of March was over before she could even draw a breath. She hadn't booted up her computer since she moved, but she loved her new job and enjoyed her CO, Captain Engel.
In the first week she caught a mistake that could have grown quite serious if left undetected. A file was marked closed when in fact the man in question, a man who disappeared after a huge shipment of guns was reported missing in Colombia, was still at large. Mackenzie would probably never know the outcome, or whether or not she had actually helped, but it was good to know that her captain was proud of her.
And if she wasn't feeling good enough about her job already, she had an appointment today, one that she hoped would turn out to be everything she dreamed of and more. This one was not work-related, at least not Army work-related, but she didn't know when she had been so excited about something.
The appointment was at Cary's, a restaurant in D.C. Mackenzie was early and had taken a booth by the window. Her coffee cup had been refilled twice, but she was too nervous to eat. At last she
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saw him: Paxton Hancock was coming her way, a big smile on his face. Mackenzie stood up so they could hug.
"Hello, stranger," he teased her as he slipped into the booth.
"Hi, yourself. How have you been?"
"Busy." He nodded his head when a waiter approached with a mug and a pot of coffee. "I thought it would all slow down when Christmas passed, but we're already gearing up for spring and summer."
"How is Jodi?"
"Great." Paxton smiled contently. They were living to
gether now. "Just had a promotion, so she's at the top of the world. How's the Pentagon?"
"I love it." Mackenzie's smile matched his own. "I thought Arlington Hall was interesting, but it can't compare."
"How do you like being at the Fort?"
"It's fine. I have a very small apartment, which is a miracle, but privacy was all I wanted. My folks bought me that little red Jeep parked right out there for Christmas, and I've never had so much fun."
"It looks brand new," Paxton said with his face to the glass.
"It's two years old, but there's not a scratch on it. I've even taken some weekend drives. Parts of the East Coast are beautiful."
"I think so, but then I grew up here."
Mackenzie smiled but didn't comment. She suddenly realized how awkward this was going to be. She had been so excited when she called him that she didn't stop to think about this part.
"All right, Mackenzie," Paxton rescued her, "out with it. On the phone you sounded like someone had just proposed."
"No, it's not that, but I-She paused. "I've never taken advantage of our friendship, have I, Pax?"
"Oh no," the man said with a laugh. "That sounds like a setup with a capital headache."
"Come on, now," Mackenzie coaxed. "I'm not doing this for me. Will you hear me out?"
"Of course I will."
"Okay." Mackenzie took a deep breath. "You have to understand that this is not for me; it's for my sister."
"Okay."
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"She doesn't even know about it. That way, if nothing ever comes of it, she won't be hurt or feel rejected."
"I understand." Paxton smiled at her earnest face. He was quite in love with Jodi, but Mackenzie would always hold a place in his heart.
Mackenzie bit her lip and looked at him for a moment before reaching for a large folder that lay on the seat beside her. She pulled a stack of bound papers from it and placed them on the table between them. She watched Paxton's eyes go down to the top page:"Micah Bear and the Rainy Day,written by Mackenzie Bishop and illustrated by Delancey Bishop."
"My sister put this together for me for Christmas. The writing is nothing, just something I did as a kid, but I think her artwork is good. Will you look at this and tell me if you think anyone at IronHorse would want to take a look at it?"