CHAPTER NINE
Maddox
The evening light flowed in through my window, painting a pool of soft yellow, outlined in golds and grays, on my countertop. I stirred the stir-fry in my wok with a desultory hand, thinking about Macy.
It had been almost twenty-four hours since we met for dinner yesterday, since that magical night began. And, as yet, I’d heard nothing from her. Should I be worried?
I sighed. Maybe I was being stupid. Maybe she was waiting for me to break the ice? I decided to try it.
Hi, Macy, I messaged. Would you like to meet for coffee tomorrow?
I sent it and closed my eyes, wondering if I’d done something sensible or something dumb. Probably dumb. It’s me, after all…not like I have a record of bright ideas. I put the phone on the table in the sitting room and went back to the kitchen.
I stirred the supper with unnecessary vigor and was about to turn down the pan when the phone rang.
I swear I almost broke the speed of sound launching myself from the kitchen to the sitting room. I grabbed the phone, finger trembling with urgency, and pressed the knob.
“Hi?” I said fitfully.
“Hi!”
I felt my heart visit my boot tops. It was Claudia. One of my clients. Not Macy. Damn.
“Hi, Claudia,” I said. “How’s things?”
I always felt a little awkward around Claudia. She was a very effusive person. Quite clingy too. I sometimes worried that her husband would think we were up to things—when we came back she often insisted on rubbing my shoulders or hanging onto my arm. But as far as I could tell there was no interest from her side. There wasn’t from mine. I liked her, but that was it. All the same, she made me feel a bit uneasy.
“Things are great!” she said enthusiastically in reply to my query. “But I’m sorry to say I’m going to have to miss our session tomorrow morning.”
“Oh?” I frowned. “That’s okay. Do you want to catch it up sometime this week?”
She paused. “Can we wait and see?” she said after a moment. “I don’t know my schedule yet and…well, I’ll tell you more when I call. That okay?”
“Sure,” I said affably. “I’ll see you whenever you can.”
“Great!” she effused. “Thanks. Bye-bye.”
“Bye.”
I put the phone down and went wearily through to the kitchen. The bottom part of the vegetables in the pan was burned, but that was a minor thing compared to the disappointment that had settled on me when I found it wasn’t Macy who’d called.
I chuckled to myself, remedying my burned supper as I thought about my reaction.
I fell for her in a big way. My friend’s right. Trouble is, he’s probably right about the rest too.
I didn’t want to think about that. In my heart, that had always been my concern. I recalled what my mom had said.
I had told her about Macy one night—when I was first having second thoughts, before the whole dinner-party incident even happened.
She’d said—and I knew she had the background to speak as an authority on this—that cross-status relationships were probably a bad thing.
“It wouldn’t be fair, Maddox,” she’d said gently. “Imagine. She’s from a different world. Not the same one you’re used to. She has needs you can’t even imagine. How would you deal with that?”
I had frowned, thinking about it. It’s a big question for anyone, especially an eighteen-year-old who is wildly in love for the very first time ever.
“I dunno,” I’d said. “I guess I could just, you know, ask her if she’s happy. I guess.”
Mom had laughed. She had a sweet, sorrowful face, as if life had given her a bad deal but she wasn’t going to let on. She’d squeezed my hand fondly. “Baby, you’re naïve if you think that would work,” she’d said sadly. “Why would she tell you, even if something was bothering her? There’s a lot you don’t understand about life.”
I hadn’t known what to say. What could I say? All I could do was believe her.
She and my dad had a lot of difficulties themselves, I knew that. She tried to accept the lifestyle Dad could offer and he always felt inadequate, even though she never actually said a word about it.
I can’t do to Macy what Dad did to Mom.
I wasn’t going to go there. That thought still preyed on my mind, eating away at me. If I was honest with myself, I had finally chosen to turn my back because of her comments. And they still preyed on me.
It will never not be true. I will always be different than Macy. From another world.
There was really nothing else to think about, after that. If I thought about anything permanent with her, it would be cruel. I would be imposing that bad deal on her that my dad had given my mom.
I settled down at the table with my burned stir-fry and ate, thinking about Claudia and the training session instead.
If she needs an extra one we could catch up Saturday morning…not that I want to add an extra job in then. But I could do with the money. Claudia, an athlete, paid well for the training. I liked her, too, even though she was a bit demanding and her habit of making her own schedule at the last minute and informing me a few hours previous was wearing.
“Well, I do have a free morning.”
It seemed like I’d be at a loose end for it too. I finished supper and headed off to train for a bit—my weights were next to the bed and I grunted, hefting one. It wasn’t a room I could bring a girl into, really, I thought wryly. With my equipment bedecking the place, the faded carpet on the floor, and the one veneered-chipboard wardrobe that was entirely packed with my clothes and sports bags and extra gear, it was a guy’s room.
I should tidy up.
I set the weight down and reached for another, groaning as I strained against it, biceps bulging and aching as I held it up over my head. I let it down again after a few moments with an explosive sigh.
In my head, thoughts of Macy intruded—her exotic perfume, the feel of her soft skin, the aching wonder of pushing my tongue in her mouth.
Stop it.
I finished with the weights, then looked around the room and tidied up. I couldn’t get anything more in the cupboard, I soon concluded, unless I started throwing stuff away. I was making an inventory of old, dilapidated track shoes when my phone made a noise.
This time, I finished the job doggedly before I even thought about answering. Probably just a notification from my landlord, I decided gloomily. I wasn’t going to get excited.
I fetched a shopping bag and dumped three pairs of trainers into it for donating to charity.
Then I answered my phone.
Coffee sounds great. Tomorrow morning work for you? Macy.
I stared at the message. My heart was thumping in my chest. Macy. She replied. She wants to go for coffee, tomorrow. With me. I felt like the clouds around my heart had evaporated and the sun had broken through, lighting everything to happiness.
Sure, I replied fast. Maybe eight o’ clock? At the Lifestyle Cafe?
That cafe was near the gym where I worked, across from the park. It was easy for me to get to work afterward. I hoped it would suit her too. Immediately after I’d sent the message, I started second-guessing myself. Maybe I should have chosen somewhere she liked. What would she think of the place, anyway? It was pretty basic compared to the kind of places she usually favored. What was I thinking?
A few minutes later, as I tidied my room, trying to find an outlet for my nervous energies, the message noise went off again.
Sure. See you then. Looking forward.
I honestly thought that my heart would actually melt.
I put the two bags of unwanted clothes and equipment in the hallway, put my phone on the table and punched the air.
“Yes!”
I collapsed on the bed, relief flowing through me. I felt so, so happy.
Then, feeling revived and excited for tomorrow, I decided to finish the cleaning and maybe go through my sock drawers as well. If a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing properly, wasn’t it?
I chuckled.
It was the day after Valentine’s, and my life was looking so much rosier.