Chicago
Never had Delancey had so much funnotdating someone. The night she had been ill and needed Tab's help had been a turning point. Rude as she had been, he had taken her words as a challenge. Not a day went by that he didn't smile at her, wink at her, or gain access to the group she was walking or talking with and somehow end up right beside her. He'd knocked on her door at least twice a week and brought her treats-sometimes flowers, sometimes food. She would frown at him but always take what was offered, and if it was food, eat every bite. Indeed, she had gained the weight she had lost plus some. She accomplished this by thinking about her mother as little as possible.
Her time with Jack had been special, but he felt Mackenzie's absence keenly. Jack had confided to Delancey that he knew something was wrong but had no idea what. Delancey had not known how to respond and wondered all the way home on the plane if remaining silent had been a lie. She was still thinking about it when she disembarked at O'Hare and found Tab at her gate. She hid her surprise and nodded to him, careful not to assume.
"Hello, Tab," she said softly, starting right past him.
"I'm your ride, Delancey," he said to her profile, watching her halt.
She turned to him, her face expressionless.
"What happened to Mona?"
He tried to look angelic. "Would you believe she's sick?"
"No."
"How about that her car broke down?"
"How about the truth?"
"I asked her if I could pick you up, and she told me when and where."
Delancey's eyes went heavenward.
"Tell me, Tab, do you have any idea why Mona seems to want us to date so badly? What's it to her anyway?"
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Tab shrugged, glad that she wasn't really mad. "I don't think she has a motive beyond just being a little too busy for her own good."
Delancey shrugged ruefully. "I hope you didn't have to come too far out of your way."
It was an inane remark since the airport was some distance from the school, but Delancey had no idea what else to say. She didn't want to get serious with anyone, and Tab seemed to enjoy this cat-and-mouse game they had started to play. Something struck Delancey as soon as they began to walk from the gate, and the moment she got into the front seat of his car, she voiced it.
"I owe you an apology, Tab, and I need to make it right now."
"For what?"
"For taking the things you bring to my room. It's very sweet of you, but it's giving you the impression that we're going to start something, and we're not. I'm sorry I've been so insensitive."
Tab was quiet for a long time. He maneuvered out of the parking garage and through the busy Sunday-night traffic toward school. Delancey was not accustomed to having her apologies ignored, so she sat miserably beside him.
"Has someone hurt you, Delancey?" he finally asked.
"Yes," she answered, telling the first person since she'd left California and finding it very therapeutic.
"Why did he break up with you?"
"He didn't. I broke up with him because he was ready for marriage and I'm not. I don't get into casual relationships, and seeing one person exclusively leads to intense feelings. I won't make that mistake again. I also want to do well in my studies, and that's hard to do with a boyfriend."
"So rather than risk things getting serious, you don't go out at all."
"That's right."
They were at a stoplight now, and Tab looked at her.
"Thank you for telling me," he said, working hard to keep the pain from his voice and believing he accomplished that. "I hope we can be friends, Delancey, but I won't pressure you again."
"Thank you, Tab. I'm glad you don't hate me."
"Not at all. I admire the fact that you know what you want."
Nothing was said to that, which suited both young people fine. The flight was catching up with Delancey, and she was
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hungry. She had some snacks in her bag but didn't want to eat in front of Tab. Tab, who had started to believe that there would be something more between them, just wanted to be alone. He was mature enough not to resent her or treat her badly, but Delancey Bishop was one he wasn't going to get over very soon. It was only the middle of April, but the end of the term, and with it graduation, couldn't come soon enough for him. For the first time since he had met her, he was glad that Delancey lived in California and his home was in southern Illinois.
Arlington
"So this is where you live." Tom spoke kindly, but inside he wondered how she stood it. He had never thought Army life was for him, and seeing Mackenzie's small, aseptic apartment only confirmed that fact.
"Yes. It's not very fancy, but it's home."
"What happens in August?" he asked. She had already told him she would be leaving the military.
"I've already started looking for apartments, just checking prices. It's expensive here, so I'll probably head out of the area."
"Going back to California?"
Mackenzie shook her head. "Not now, maybe not ever."
Tom could see she did not want to speak of it. He was sitting at her kitchen table and now glanced around the room a bit more. He looked at the "living room" area and saw her computer and desk. Next to her new printer was a tall stack of paper.
Tom's eyes swung to her in question and found that she'd been watching him. She looked tense for a moment, but then she slouched a bit in her chair. He knew she would tell if he asked, and he was not going to miss this opportunity.
"Is the stack of paper what you've been working on?"
Mackenzie nodded.
"Is it something for work or for you?"
"For me."
Tom's eyes went back to the neat pile and the neat desktop.
"Is it a book?"
Mackenzie nodded, a small smile on her face.
"Can I look at it?"
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"Sure." Mackenzie stood, went for the manuscript, brought it back, and set it on the table in front of him.
"Access Denied,"he read out loud. "A novel?"
Mackenzie sat across from him but didn't answer. Tom looked up at her.
"Come on, Mackenzie. Don't take me this far and drop me."
Mackenzie laughed. "No, it's 502 Micah Bear books. Of course it's a novel."
"All this is one novel, or am I looking at several copies?"
"It's just one."
"And it's finished?"
"Just last weekend."
Tom shifted the stack slightly and flipped through the pages until he was at the last one: 784. He looked up at her again and found her smiling at him.
"I like a challenge now and again," she explained simply. "I had this story in my head and wanted to see if I could write it. And I did."
Tom gaped at her. He knew she was writing and was nearly positive that it wasn't Micah Bear, but he was not prepared for this. He stared at her and then back down at the papers.
"May I read it?" he finally asked.
Mackenzie had been anticipating this, so she was able to answer immediately. "Yes, you can, Tom, but what you can't do is talk about it. This is very private for me."
"Of course. I won't say a word. But tell me, what do you plan to do with it?"
"Nothing. I know that's unbelievable to an editor, but that's the truth. I think it's a pretty good story, and I enjoyed putting it down on paper, but I did it for me, and that's all I care about."
"Does anyone know about this?"
"My sister knows that I started writing, but she doesn't know I finished it. My mother knew what I was doing, but I don't think she even told Jack. I trust you, Tom-you know I do-but I have to say it again: Please tell me you know how private this is for me."
"I do, Mackenzie, and I consider it a great honor that you're letting me read it."
Mackenzie laughed again. "You'd better save the accolades for after you've read it. You'll probably say it's dry as dust or all been done before."
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"I'll be honest, shall I?"
"You can be, of course, but don't forget what I said: I did it because I wanted to, and I did it for me."
Tom smiled at her. Once he had gotten to know her, even a little, understanding her was so much clearer. She was incredibly independent, something he very much admired. He wasn't in the habit of comparing her to Brita, but he realized suddenly how tiring that woman had been. She had been helpless with so many things. Mackenzie, on the other hand, didn't seem to need help with anything. He almost wished that she did.
For a moment his love of books got to him, and without thought he turned over the title page and began to read. Mackenzie sat watching him, a smile on her face. He'd actually taken in a few pages when he felt her eyes.
"It's nice that you could come and talk to me, Tom."
He laughed. Her sarcasm was always so fun to him.
"All right. I'll leave it. After all, you're leaving tomorrow, so I'll have plenty of time."
"Oh, yes. I take up so much of your time when I'm here."
"You're such a brat," he told her complacently. "What are you making for dinner?"
"Did you come for dinner?"
"Yes. I'm starved."
"Well, I hope you like canned soup or Cheerios."
"You're kidding."
Mackenzie smiled at him, and not ten minutes later he learned that she wasn't. He even went through her cupboards for proof. They sat down to a meal of bean with bacon soup, crackers, cheese slices, and Twinkies for dessert. Tom enjoyed it but determined to buy her a cookbook for her birthday.
SanFrancisco
Jack had prayed long and hard about what he wanted to say to his stepdaughter, but now that they were alone and she sat across from him at the kitchen table, he felt strangely tongue- tied. He couldn't think of anything that hurt him as much as this wall that Mackenzie had put up between them. He loved her. She was also Marrell's child, and his thoughts and memories of that woman were some of the sweetest of his life. Mackenzie's
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not needing him or even wanting to talk to him was a blow almost as painful as Marrell's death.
"How is work going?"
"Okay."
"Are you looking forward to August?"
"Yes and no. I'm still uncertain about my plans, so I don't know what I think right now."
"Well, if you want to work for me, I can use you."
Mackenzie tried to smile. "I don't think the commute would pay off."
This was the first time Jack knew for certain that she would not be returning to California.
"Where will you live?"
"I'm thinking about some place outside of D.C, but I'm not sure yet."
"But not California?"
"No."
"Is it me, Mackenzie? Have I done something?"
Mackenzie's heart broke a little, but not enough to cry. "I just can't do this anymore," she admitted. "I don't know if I can explain."
"Can't do what?" He was desperate for answers.
Anger filled her, but even though it showed in her eyes, her voice was calm. "I can't pretend that I'm not angry anymore, Jack. I can't and I won't. You love a God who can't be trusted, and I don't want any part of it."
It made his stomach roll to know that if she died tonight, she would spend eternity in hell, but he had to be who he always was, even if she hated it or him. The thought gave him another question.
"I don't think I've changed, Mic. What's happened that you can't stand to have anything to do with what your mother and I believed?"
"You don't want to hear it."
"I do, Mic. You won't say anything that will change my love for you."
Mackenzie shook her head. "No, you'll just pray for Mackenzie some more and ask God to reach her poor lost soul."
Jack could have flinched at the bitterness and sarcasm and at the same time was thankful that Marrell didn't have to see it.
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Thinking of her gave him courage. He took a moment to ask for more wisdom, knowing God would honor his request, and addressed Mackenzie straightforwardly.
"Well, Mackenzie, I guess we know where we stand. I'm who I've always been, and you want nothing to do with that. To the best of my knowledge I've never shoved Jesus Christ down your throat. We asked that you attend church, but no one's ever forced you to pray or read the Word. I'm not going to pretend that I don't pray for you, Mic. I won't do anything just to make you more comfortable or to try to gain what we used to have."
Mackenzie looked at him. She hadn't expected any less, but having Jack say it outright was a surprise. Nevertheless, it was what she wanted. If Jack's face could be trusted, he accepted the fact as well.
"I don't leave for two more days, Jack, and I'd still like to see my sister. Is it all right if I stay?"
"You've misunderstood me, Mic." His eyes were tender even though she wouldn't look at him. He was in pain, but his heart knew peace. "You can stay forever, but I'm going to live out my faith as I've always done. I'm not going to tiptoe around you, not today or ever, but you're welcome in this home, or any home I have, for as long as I live."
"Thank you," Mackenzie said softly, still unable to meet his eyes. She couldn't say she was sorry because she wasn't, but in some ways this was a relief. She knew the next two days would be strained, and indeed, they were very difficult.
Delancey hated the silences and the pain she saw on Jack's and Mackenzie's faces, but she had no idea what to do. Guilty as the thought made her feel, it was almost a relief to have her sister leave. She took her to the airport without Jack and cried all the way back to the apartment.
For Delancey, things were not as they'd always been with Jack, but she had to admit that it felt easier without Mackenzie. With her sister in the mix, she felt she had to choose, and right now she couldn't do that. She didn't understand, however, that her own quiet distance with Jack was, in fact, choosing, and Jack knew without having to ask that Delancey would not stay the whole summer.
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Arlington
"Where are you taking me?" Mackenzie asked when Tom picked her up at the airport but did not take her home.
"To my place. I've got dinner ready."
"Let me guess . . . pizza?"
"Wrong. You'll just have to be surprised."
Mackenzie smiled at him. She was tired and a little achy, but it was nice to see him. She hadn't thought about missing him but now realized she had.
"So what did you do to keep busy these last two weeks?"
"All I've done is work," he told her without elaborating. "How was your trip?"
"It was all right."
Tom glanced at her. "Want to tell me about it?"
"I don't know. It's a long story."
"I have time."
Mackenzie looked at him. "Maybe some other time, all right?"
"Of course."
Mackenzie was glad that he let it go, and they finished the ride in silence. She was as relaxed as a cat, almost dozing, by the time they reached his place.
"Come on," he coaxed her as he opened her door. "I'll get a little Pepsi into you and bring you back to life."
Mackenzie went along with him, and when he finally sat her down at his kitchen table and gave her a huge sub sandwich and several deli salads to choose from, she was glad she had come.
"These are good! Gino's, right?"
"Of course. You wouldn't expect me to welcome you home with anything else."
"Thank you, kind sir."
"By the way, why haven't you asked me if I read your book?"
"Oh," Mackenzie's brows rose. "I thought of it when my plane was leaving San Francisco but then forgot again."
Tom was amazed all over again. He knew she'd been guileless with him about her feelings, but he hadn't thought her this at ease. Most people wanted to know if the other person approved. Mackenzie Bishop honestly didn't care.
"Did you read it?"
"I did, and it's excellent."
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; Mackenzie beamed. "Well, Tom, coming from you, that's a real compliment. Thank you."
Tom took a bite of his own sandwich and mentally regrouped. This was not going anything like he had planned. He opened his mouth to try again but decided to wait until they were finished with the meal. They did the dishes, talking all the while, and Tom even kissed her when she got suds on her cheek, but she wasn't expecting the move he made after dinner. Taking her hand, he led her to the big chair and pulled her down in his lap. Their relationship was getting physical, but nowhere near this much. Mackenzie's eyes widened, and she wondered if he'd been drinking. She was almost sure of it when he kissed her long and hard.
"Tom, what in the world-"
"Do I have your attention now?"
"You've had my attention all evening."
"No, I haven't. I want you to listen to me, and I'll do anything to make sure you do."
Mackenzie stared at him in confusion before climbing from his lap. She sat on the edge of the sofa.
"You have my attention, Tom, and you can start by telling me what that was all about."
"No, I'm going to start by repeating what I said aboutAccess Denied.It's good, Mackenzie,very good."
"Thank you, Tom, but I did hear you the first time."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay, because I'm serious, Mackenzie. I know he'll make some changes, not to the story itself, it's too good for that, but maybe a little with your grammar. You tend to use the wordjusttoo much andthata little too often, but he's-"
"Who, Tom? I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about Paxton and what he's going to say."
Mackenzie bolted to her feet."You gave the manuscript to Paxton?"
"No, but I'm going to."
Mackenzie collapsed back onto the sofa with relief, and Tom talked on for some minutes before he realized he'd lost her again.
"Do I need to get you over here in my lap again? I'm trying to tell you-" He stopped when Mackenzie just continued to shake her head. Tom took a deep breath and suddenly realized how
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emotional he had been. If ever he needed to be calm and professional, it was now. He sat up in the overstuffed leather chair, took a moment to compose himself, and looked at his guest.