Pretense (54 page)

"So is it just you and Delancey?"

"Pretty much. We have a stepfather and some family in Florida, but we don't have much contact with the family in Florida."

"Because they don't want to see you, or because you don't want to see them?"

"We don't want to see them. We've met them only once, and it wasn't very much fun."

"I think what you need is a boyfriend, Mackenzie."

"The last thing I need is a boyfriend," she told him bluntly.

"How do you figure?"

"I just know me, and I don't need a boyfriend."

"How many have you had?"

Mackenzie didn't answer.

"Tell me what you think it would be like?"

Mackenzie shook her head, more out of exasperation than denial.

"Come on, tell me why you dismissed it so quickly."

"For one thing," Mackenzie leapt in, "I can't just go out and rope some man and drag him home. On top of that, I'm not very domestic. I'm not into cooking and cleaning, and most of all, I'm not interested in sharing some man's bed."

"Not all men are like that, Mackenzie. You must know that."

"So you mean to tell me that your girlfriend didn't do those things for you?" He was being nosy, so she felt no hesitation in turning the table.

"Mackenzie, I was going to marry Brita," he explained patiently. "It wasn't some fling. I was in love with her."

"Well, you'd have saved yourself a lot of pain by marrying her
before
you moved in together."

Tom gawked at her, and Mackenzie wished she could rip her tongue out. She put her pizza aside and stood.

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"I'm sorry, Tom. I shouldn't have said that. I've got to go."

Tom stood but didn't try to stop her. Mackenzie was at the door before she remembered the books. She spoke without looking at him.

"I forgot about the manuscripts. Can I just take them with me and get back to you?"

"Come back here tomorrow at ten o'clock."

This brought her eyes up. "You already said you have to do this all week, so now you want me back here on Sunday?"

"But I didn't have to do anything today, Mackenzie-nothing that I didn't want to do."

Mackenzie didn't reply.

"Ten o'clock, or I'll come looking for you, Miss Bishop."

Mackenzie nodded but didn't say anything else. She exited silently, her stomach growling as she climbed behind the wheel. She wondered absently how her stomach could be growling when she felt as though she could be sick. Some minutes later she walked into her apartment on base, briefly wishing she'd learned to drink. Anything to take her mind off what had just happened.

Mackenzie tried not to blush the next morning but couldn't pull it off. Tom noticed as he let her back into his condo but didn't comment. He could tell by her face that she planned to get done and get out as fast as she could. He wanted to smile. He was in no hurry; neither was he inclined to make Mackenzie's getaway easier for her.

"Coffee?" he offered, his voice casual.

"No, thanks. Where are the papers?"

"Oh, I'll get 'em."

But he didn't. He went to the coffeepot and began working as though he had all the time in the world.

"I would have thought you would be anxious to get on with this."

"Not as anxious as you are evidently," he said, his back to her.

Mackenzie could have thrown something at him.

"Black?" He was holding a mug out to her.

"Actually," she replied, her voice tight with anger, "I take cream and sugar-lots of it."

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Tom turned back and prepared the coffee and then set it on the table in front of a chair. He took the seat opposite, and Mackenzie felt she had no choice but to sit. She did so with ill grace, making no attempt to mask her displeasure.

"It's really quite a comfort to see that you're human," Tom commented, taking a sip from his own mug.

"How's that?"

"Well, up until yesterday I wasn't too sure."

Mackenzie only frowned at him, her mood no better.

"Yesterday you called for your mother, and today you're in a snit like a five-year-old. Makes me think there's hope."

If he expected anger over these statements, Mackenzie was going to surprise him. Her shoulders slumped a little, and she actually raised her cup to drink. They were silent for several minutes before Tom spoke.

"Are you going to make it, Mackenzie?"

"I don't know," she said softly, her chest rising and falling with a huge sigh. "I can't believe she's gone. I just don't even know what to think or do. She's gone, and all I can do is pour myself into my writing to escape the pain." The words were no more out when Mackenzie's eyes shot to Tom's. This action more than anything else told him she was not talking about Micah Bear books. He knew he had to rescue her.

"I'll tell you what, Mackenzie. When you're ready to talk about what you're writing, come to me."

Mackenzie licked her lips. "All right."

"Shall we get started on the books?"

"Sure. Tom?" she said when he rose. "You won't say anything to anyone, will you?"

"About what?"

Mackenzie took another deep breath and nodded. He did understand. "Thank you" was all she said, and the subject was dropped so they could get down to business.

Chicago

Delancey studied the subject at the front of the room, a barefoot blond male in blue jeans and a white T-shirt, before swinging her eyes to her easel. It didn't take long to see that her imagination did a better job. When she had to copy someone,

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she was too much of a perfectionist, expecting the painting to look like a photo, not a drawing. She had a tendency to fix things until the person was distorted.

"Looks good, Delancey," Tab McDonald, one of the male students, commented as he walked by. He was a senior and also the teacher's aide.

"Thank you," Delancey said briefly before going back to her work.

"Rumor has it that he's dying to ask you out," a soft voice whispered from beside her. Delancey glanced over to find Mona Reeve watching her.

"Well, we mustn't believe everything we hear."

"But considering that his sister is on my floor, it's a pretty sure thing."

Delancey looked at her. "I'm still not interested."

"Is it Tab or all men?"

The teacher came by before Delancey could answer, and she felt only relief. She knew Mona pretty well-they had met the first day of classes-but she wasn't very excited to talk with anyone about men. She didn't count on Mona's persistence. As soon as class ended, the other girl snagged Delancey and walked with her to their dorm.

"Would it really hurt to go out with him, Delancey? He's the nicest guy. All the girls are crazy about him, but he's picked you, and you don't even notice."

"It's not that simple, Mona," Delancey tried to explain. "I'm not interested in getting serious with anyone right now, and not very many men as old as Tab are interested in casual dating."

"What if he was?"

Still able to see Kyle's angry face in her mind, she shook her head. "There's no way to know that, and I'm not willing to take a chance."

Mona had plenty of things she could say to that, but stark pain filled Delancey's eyes, causing her to remain quiet. For a moment she had forgotten about Delancey's mother.

"Okay, Delancey, but if you change your mind-" She smiled, letting the sentence hang.

Delancey watched as she moved off. Mona was a pretty girl. Why would she care who Tab dated? Delancey wondered if she

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was only making sure the path was clear for herself, but as Mona said, Tab seemed to have his eye on her.

Delancey let herself into her room and lay across the bed. She had a class first thing the next morning, but for the rest of the day she was free. Her stomach growled with hunger and made her look down. Her jeans were so baggy in the waist that she could have tucked in five shirts. She knew she should go down to dinner, but she wasn't sure she would eat much. She was just dozing off when the phone rang.

"Hi, Deej," Mackenzie said softly from the other end.

"Oh, Mic." Delancey was instantly in tears.

The girls couldn't speak for some minutes. Mackenzie ached to be with her sister, and Delancey hadn't known how lonely she was until she heard Mackenzie's voice.

"It's so awful," Mackenzie sobbed. "I just hurt so much, and I hate it."

"If we could just be together, it would make such a difference."

"When is your spring break?"

"Not for three more weeks."

"Why don't you fly here?"

"Oh, Mic, I want to, but I feel so awful for Jack. I feel like I should go home."

The tears came again.

"Why don't you come to California, Mic?"

"I don't know if I can get the time off."

Delancey felt so light-headed all of a sudden that she knew she needed to eat. She didn't know how she would manage to hold anything down, but she was fading fast.

"Can you try?" Delancey finally asked her sister in an effort to ignore the spinning room.

"Sure," Mackenzie told her, but it wasn't quite true. She didn't want to see Jack at the moment. Every time she remembered the funeral, she grew angry. It wasn't anything she hadn't heard before, but now his talk of God infuriated her. She'd even received a letter from Oliver and Shay, but she couldn't bring herself to answer and thank them for prayers she didn't want.

"Are you still there, Mic?"

"I'm here, but I have to tell you, D.J., I'm not real crazy about going to San Francisco right now. I'm going to go this

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summer and help Jack sort out some things, but I don't want to be around him right now."

"Why, Mackenzie?" Delancey was thoroughly shocked.

"I just don't want to hear anymore about God's love and God's will and God's being in control."

"Okay," Delancey said with complete understanding. She was not as angry as her sister, but neither was she buying what Jack and her mother had been selling for more years than she could remember.

My mother served You with all her heart and what do You do?Give her cancer.
Delancey was surprised at her own thoughts and wondered if she might be more angry than she realized. She calmed when she visualized Jack alone.

"I'm still going home," Delancey said. Jack still meant that much to her. "But I understand why you're not."

"Are you going home for the summer?"

"Yes, as far as I know. In fact, right now I'm not even sure I'm coming back in the fall."

"Oh, Deej." Mackenzie sounded pained. "I thought you loved it."

"I do, but I'll only come back if I can get an apartment by myself. I'm tired of dorm life and college food."

"Jack'll help you if you don't want to touch your savings," Mackenzie told her. "I know he will, and I also know that he will understand why you want to be alone."

"You think so?"

"Yes. And if I could just have that side of Jack, the one that cares for me, I would go home. But I can't handle the rest. If I'm there, I'm going to say something I'll regret."

Delancey understood, but she felt her throat close all over again. They needed to be together, and she wasn't sure she could wait until summer.

"Just make me one promise," she said through tears. "Promise you'll not change your mind about this summer. Promise me you'll come, Mic."

"I will, Deej. I'll be there. I want to go-I just don't look forward to it the way I did before."

"I can't believe she's gone," Delancey said softly, voicing both girls' thoughts.

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"I've got to get off here, Deej," Mackenzie whispered. "I'll call you later this week."

"Okay." Delancey hung up feeling so awful that she had to lie back down. In the next few minutes she shoved the pain away, took a few deep breaths, and formed a plan for dinner. She worked at thinking about what sounded good to her in an effort to be prepared, but early as it was, she decided just to go and eat the first thing she saw. Her plan worked beautifully until she felt sick in line and almost dropped her tray. She didn't see who owned the hand that took it from her. Neither did she protest when that same someone led her to a table.

"Here, Delancey," one of her teachers, Mr. Fitch, suddenly said. "Drink a little of this water." He pressed a cup into her hand, and Delancey managed a few sips. She looked into his concerned face and shook her head.

"I'm just hungry," she said softly.

"What's that?"

"I'm just hungry," she said, a little louder this time. "I just need to eat."

He nodded. No one could miss the way she had dropped weight in the last month.

"I have to get to a class, Delancey, but I'm going to ask someone to sit with you."