Days Like This (25 page)

Paige picked up a dinner plate,
scrubbed at a stubborn spot.  “It’s okay.”

“You don’t sound convinced.  Are
you getting along with Casey?”

“Casey’s all right.”

“And your dad?”

Paige hesitated.  What could she
say to this woman about her own son that wouldn’t sound like whining or
ingratitude?

“Ah,” Mary said.  “Your silence
speaks volumes.  You and your father have issues.”

“We don’t agree on much,” Paige
admitted.  It was as close as she would come to telling this lovely woman that
he’d already destroyed her life long before they ever met in person.

“Let me tell you something,
sweetheart.  I love all my children, and I see each of them for who they really
are.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  Your father can be the biggest, most
obstinate jackass on the planet.  He’s far from perfect.  Sometimes, he does
stupid things.  He has a temper, and he still hasn’t really grown up.  But he
has the biggest heart of anyone I know.  He always did.  He’s the one who would
bring home a bird with a broken wing and make it a soft bed and hand-feed it
worms and try to heal it.  Underneath the prickly man, he’s still that same
soft-hearted little boy.  If he does things that don’t make sense to you, if he
gets mad and yells at you, it’s only because he cares so very much. 
Understand?”

Head down, hands buried in
dishwater, Paige nodded.

“And the other thing I have to
say is this:  he may have made some really bad judgment calls in his life, but
the one thing he got right was marrying Casey.  I’ve known and loved that girl
since she was just a wee little eighteen-year-old child bride, in way over her
head with Danny Fiore.  Somehow, she managed to stay afloat in spite of it all,
and over the years, I’ve watched her grow into a remarkable woman that I’m
proud to call my daughter-in-law.  The day she married my son was one of the
happiest days of my life.  My advice to you, Paige, is to let her into your
heart.  Your life will be so enriched if you do.”

When the kitchen clean-up was
finished, her grandmother led her into the living room, where they sat for more
than an hour, looking through old family photo albums.  It seemed that in the
MacKenzie household, there had always been somebody around with a camera. 
There were the requisite school photos, but also hundreds and hundreds of
snapshots.  Pictures of her father, and his siblings, at every stage of
development.  “Now, where was that?” Mary mused, turning pages.  “Yes, here it
is.  Your parents, when they were dating.”

And there it was.  The two of
them, looking young and fresh-faced and happy.  A lump formed in Paige’s
throat.  Sandy had owned a half-dozen photos of Rob, but none of them
together.  Nothing to document the relationship they’d had.  But this—it was
proof that they’d been a couple, visual evidence that testified to Paige’s lineage. 
She studied the photo, entranced.  Her mom had been so pretty.  And her father’d
worn the same grin she’d glimpsed a time or two, when his mood was right and he
wasn’t angry with her.

“Would you like to have it?” her
grandmother asked.

She looked up at Mary, shocked.  “Could
I?”

“Of course.  Let me find you an
envelope to put it in, to keep it safe for the trip home.”

By the time Mary returned with
the envelope, Casey had made a reappearance, and was ready to leave.  “Are you
sure you won’t stay the night?” Mary said.

“I’d love to, but your son calls
me every night.  I don’t want him to go into a panic because he can’t reach me.”

“He’s a good husband.”

“The best.  I attribute it to his
amazing upbringing.”

“Such flattery.”

“No flattery involved.  It’s
simply the truth.”

Paige bade farewell to Pugsley, gave
her grandfather a shy hug, then embraced her grandmother with enthusiasm.  Mary
stroked her cheek and said, “You’ll remember what I told you, darling Paige?”

“I will.”

“Good!  Casey, I’m so glad you
came.”  The two women embraced, Casey hugged her father-in-law, and the two of
them—Grandma and Grandpa MacKenzie—watched from the door as Paige and Casey and
Leroy walked to the car in the crisp evening air.  “Drive safely!” Mary
shouted, and Paige turned to wave before she put Leroy in the back seat and climbed
into the front.

Neither of them spoke.  There was
no need for talk.  As Casey navigated the city streets, Paige closed her eyes,
reliving, examining, analyzing the events of the past few hours.  It would take
some time to absorb it all.  But one thing was clear.  No matter how angry she
was with her father, no matter how determined she was to hate him, she was
absolutely, utterly, one hundred percent smitten with his mother.

Half-asleep, she picked up the
ringing phone and brought it to her ear.  Her husband’s soft, intimate voice
said, “I’m sorry to call so late.  I tried earlier, but I didn’t get you.  Where
were you?”

She sat up in bed, drew the hair
back from her face, rubbed her eyes.  “Believe it or not, Boston.”

“Boston?”

“Remember how, after Danny died,
you took me to the cemetery?”

“Ah.”

“I thought she needed to go.  Afterward,
we stopped in to visit your folks.  Paige needs to know where she comes from. 
It’s important.  We stayed for dinner.”

“How were things at Ye House of
MacKenzie?”

“Your mom sat Paige down with the
family photo albums, and while they were occupied with that, your dad had to
show me the latest additions to his stamp collection.  He’s scored some really
good stuff.  Apparently.”

He let out a soft laugh.  “Some
things never change.”

“But that’s good, right?  Your
parents are who they are, and we love them for it.  Some things are so perfect you
don’t want to see them ever change.”

“They’re getting old, babe.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry, they’re
as solid as ever.  They’ll be with us for a long time to come.  Listen, Michael
was there.  For dinner.  Without Claire.”

“Oh?”

“I thought it was odd.  Odder
still that her name never came up.  You don’t suppose they’re having problems?”

“I don’t know.  Nobody tells me
anything.  Hell, nobody bothered to tell me I had a kid, so why should I expect
they’d share with me anything about my brother’s marriage?”

“That’s a good point.  Your
mother, by the way, is of the strong opinion that you should be here right now,
bonding with your daughter, instead of on the road.”

 “That doesn’t surprise me.  My
mother is a woman of strong opinions.”

“I defended you.  I told her we
were a family and you were quite confident in my ability to handle things in
your absence.”

“You stood up to my mother? 
Gutsy broad.”

“Not so gutsy.  I adore your
mother.”

“And she adores you.”

“And I always stand up for you. 
I always have, and I always will.”

“I know.  You’re like a mother
bear with her cub.”

“No.  I’m just a good wife.”

“True.  I’m fairly satisfied with
the little woman.  I think I’ll keep her.  Probably.”

“Funny boy.  Listen, I hate to
have to tell you this, but Paige and Lissa Norton got picked up this morning for
shoplifting a tube of eyeliner and a lipstick.  Teddy called me.”

“Damn it.  Of course he did.  I
bet he was gloating the whole time.  What the hell was the kid thinking?”

“She’s a teenager.  They don’t
think.  If it’s any consolation, she told me it was Lissa’s idea.”

“But she went along with it.”

“Exactly.”

“Ah, shit.”  He sighed.  “What’d
you do?”

“I did what I do best:  I
smoothed things over.  There’ll be no charges, but she’ll be spending the next
four Saturdays paying penance, picking up litter and so forth, supervised by
Scotty Deverell.”

“I’m sorry I left you holding the
bag.  Did you kick her ass from here to Kingdom Come?”

“Actually, I didn’t.  The whole
fiasco is what prompted the trip to Boston.  I did let Biff Norton have it,
though.”

“Who’s Biff Norton?”

“Lissa’s father.  I went to high
school with him.  He was a little turd then, and he hasn’t improved with age. 
He had something to say about you, and I took exception to it.”

“Wait a minute.  Have I even met
this guy?”

“Not as far as I know, but he
seems to know who you are.  I put him in his place.  Nobody talks trash about my
guy and gets away with it.”

“Twice in one day you defended my
honor, Fiore?  I’m impressed.”

“Just give me a minute to blow
the smoke away from the tip of my gun.”  In the darkness, she smiled.  “Teddy
called me a pit bull.  I think he meant it as a compliment.”

“No doubt he did.  Damn, I miss
you.”

“I miss you, too.  It just doesn’t
feel right.  I hate sleeping alone.”

“Me, too.  I did it for years,
and it sucked.”

“Funny, I don’t recall you ever
sleeping alone.”

“Ha-ha.  You’re a regular
one-woman comedy act.  I wasn’t that bad.”

“Are you kidding?  I tried to
keep score, but I finally had to give up because I couldn’t keep track of them
all.  I can’t imagine how you did.  You must have had an abacus hanging on your
headboard.”

“That’s really low, Fiore.”

“I call it the way I see it, MacKenzie. 
You were quite the, ah…ladies’ man.  But we’re okay, as long as you don’t
forget where you belong now.”

“I could never forget.  Trust me.” 
He paused.  “Remember that killer fight we had?”

She drew the covers tighter
around her for warmth.  “Which one?”

“The one where you threw my ugly
ass out of your house.”

She considered it at length.  Finally
said, “Which time?”

At the other end of the line, he let
out a soft laugh.  “I guess we’ve had more than our share of battles, haven’t
we?  The time when you told me not to darken your door again until I’d cleaned
up my act.”

“Oh.  That time.  When I stopped
speaking to you because you’d been running all over Southern California acting
like the worst kind of slut.”

“Men can’t be sluts.”

“
Au contraire
, my friend. 
And if the shoe fits…”

“Well, it all came to a
screeching halt after Danny died.”

“I know.  Mrs. Sullivan told me.”

“My landlady?  You were
discussing my sex life with my
landlady
?”

“It wasn’t like that.  She just
mentioned it in passing, the last time I flew out to L.A. to visit you.  She must
have thought we were—ah…involved—because she told me I was the only woman you’d
had in your apartment in nearly two years.”

“You do realize why?”

“Fear of getting an STD?”

“I’m being serious.  Try to act
like it.  I was waiting for you.”

“Waiting?” she said.  “For me?”

“I knew you’d need time, and I
was determined to give you all the time you needed.  But I was waiting.”

Something inside her went a
little melty at his words.  He always had that effect on her.  “But how’d you
know—”

“That you’d come around?  Because
we loved each other.  We’d loved each other since the beginning of time.  There
was only one direction that could go, and I knew that sooner or later, you’d
figure it out.  In the meantime…I just waited.  It’s not like it was a
hardship.  There wasn’t anybody else I wanted.  And you were worth waiting for.”

Something happened inside her
heart, something knife-sharp, exquisite and inexplicable.  She cleared her
throat.  “Babe?”

“What?”

“So were you.  Worth waiting
for.” 

“I’m so glad you feel that way. 
Because you’ll be waiting a little longer.”

“Very clever, MacKenzie, the way
you segued so smoothly into that little gem.  How much longer?”

“Probably an extra three weeks.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Rob!”

“Hey, the tour’s a success.  We’re
picking up more dates.  That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course it’s a success.  And
why do you suppose that is?  It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the
fact that this relatively unknown band managed to snag the illustrious Rob
MacKenzie, guitarist extraordinaire, to fill in on their crappy, two-bit concert
tour?”

“Is that bitterness I hear in
your voice?”

“I’ve found that I don’t much
like living alone.”

“What do you mean?  You’re not
living alone.”

“Are you really that dense?  Do I
have to spell it out for you?”

“Oh,” he said. 

“Yes.  Oh.  I’m almost desperate
enough to take you up on that offer you made me a couple of weeks ago.”

“Alas, and to my vast regret, due
to a stunning lack of privacy, that offer will have to stay on hold for the
foreseeable future.”

“Let me guess.  You’re leaning
against a dirty, graffiti-covered wall outside the men’s room in some packed
roadhouse, you’ve been up for eighteen hours, haven’t eaten in twelve, haven’t
brushed your teeth or your hair for two days, and the minute you’re done
performing tonight, it’ll be back on the bus for another twelve-hour drive to
nowhere.”

“Sometimes you scare the living
shit out of me.”

“I’m not psychic.  I’m basing
this on past experience.  If you ever do come home, it’ll take me weeks to
rehabilitate you to a civilized state.”

“A little physical therapy should
work wonders.”

“Lucky for you that I’m so good
with my hands.”

At the other end of the line, he
let out a snort of laughter.  Then said, “Gotta run, babe.  Break’s over.  Hang
in there.  This, too, shall pass.”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to
pick up some hot young stud to tide me over.  Maybe I should start cruising the
bowling alley.”

“Hah!  Fiore?”

“What?”

“You are so full of shit.” 

Washing and waxing a dirty police
cruiser and scraping up dog turds from the sidewalk weren’t exactly her idea of
how to spend a quality Saturday afternoon.  The work she and Lissa were
performing under the supervision of that Nazi, Scotty Deverell, was tedious and
exhausting.  Worse, it was keeping her away from the Saturday-afternoon
football games.  If she wasn’t afraid Deverell would handcuff her and lock her
up in his jail, she’d probably shove Lissa to the ground and pound her head
repeatedly against the pavement.