He’d been mid-swallow and choked, his eyes watering as she’d trounced away.
When she came back by, she gave him a mocking look. “What? Did you think I’d gone home and cried myself to sleep?”
Yes. Yes, he had. But he hadn’t said it out loud.
Shaking her head with a laugh as though it was a ridiculous suggestion even though she was the one who’d made it, she mumbled, “What a freaking ego.”
She’d been fine. Didn’t look at him weirdly, hadn’t avoided eye contact. Not sure he bought into her casual acceptance of what she’d witnessed. Not sure if his suspicion had been instinct or wishful on his part, but he shut down that line of thought before he went too deep.
Sarah brought him his whiskey with a smile. “Hey, Mac.”
“Hey.” He wanted to ask her why she was working instead of Day; tonight was one of Cassidy’s usual shifts, after all. Her boat was at the dock, but with this weather, he’d have expected her to drive her car, so her boat being docked made sense. But he knew it would sound wrong, his asking. He knew it would catch Darlene’s attention, and he didn’t need that. He didn’t need more lectures than he’d already received.
Everyone could fuck off with those lectures. Wasn’t anything he hadn’t told himself: too old for her, not good for her. But, he discovered he liked fucking her, so lectures or no, he was going tokeepfucking her.
“Jesus, Sarah, work with me!”
Darlene’s irritated voice cut into Mac’s musings, and he looked over at the two; they were at the computer, looking at the schedule.
“I’m trying, Darlene, but I got my kids.”
Darlene turned and glared at Sarah, hands on her hips. “And what if you lost one of them?”
“Hell, Darlene, that’s a horrible thing to ask a mother to imagine!”
“Imagine it! ’Cause that’s what she lost, and her husband, back to back. I told her she could have these days off; I am not calling her back in because one of yourliving kidsis having a soccer game that doesn’t have anything to do with anything. It’s the anniversary of her hell. You wanna make that call? Because I sure as shit don’t.”
Sarah’s face blanched. “Not when you put it like that.”
“It’s exactly like that!”
“Wow, I guess… How long has it been?”
“Two years today. Elijah collapsed on their boat, deader than a doornail before he hit the deck. Next day, she miscarried their son; the bitch of all coincidences.”
“Shit.”
“Right, so work with me!”
“Yeah, okay, it’s just a stupid game. He’ll have others.”
Mac picked up his whiskey and knocked it back before spinning off the stool.
He was halfway to the door when Darlene called out, “Early night, Mac?”
He waved once and kept going.
Chapter forty-one
Cassidy
CUTTING IN
Itstartedwithaglass of wine, which never stopped at one drink. She was going to face today bravely, chin up and all that. She cataloged for her husband all of the things she’d done since landing herself in a hospital a year ago to show how far she’d come.
Anyone on the outside looking in would think she hadn’t progressed at all, wandering around her house, talking to a ghost with a glass of wine in her hand.
Wine and talking led to music. Music led to some clumsy dance moves, and then she was in the closet, running her hands over his clothes while his songs played in the front of the house, echoing through each room. She pulled whole handfuls of his shirts to her face, his smell long gone, her heart yearning for it, thinking she could still catch a whiff.