CHAPTER THIRTY
Well, if it isn’t the foreigner. Fancy meeting you here. How’re you doing there, Annie?” Hannah sauntered over in a pair of denim short-shorts and a red blouse tied at the bottom à la Daisy Duke, abandoning her grocery cart near a pile of books set up in a display near the front doors. The only thing she was missing were ponytails on either side of her head; instead, her hair was left curly and loose. It appeared less brassy than the last time I’d seen it, making me think she’d just spent some serious dough at the beauty salon. I glanced down toward the bottom of her long legs at her cute, multicolored, embroidered cowboy boots. Where I came from, she would have been laughed at for looking like a silly hayseed redneck. But out here, the whole getup made her look like a country western singer. A really pretty one. Maybe even sexy too. My heart sank, suddenly seeing her through Mack’s eyes. She was like every cowboy’s wet dream right there in the flesh. She probably knew how to bake pies too. I wouldn’t know the first thing about doing that. I’m more the buy-and-defrost kind of girl.
“Her name is Andie, not Annie,” corrected Maeve. She looked deceptively calm and casual about being approached by the girl we were just talking about in the truck in a not-very-complimentary way.
Hannah dragged her eyes from me to acknowledge Maeve, who was standing not more than three feet away from her. “Oh, hi, Miss Maeve. I didn’t see you there. You acting as tour guide for the visitor?”
I glanced nervously around the immediate area, wondering if Mack was shopping with her. Part of me wanted to see him because he made me punch drunk with his sexiness, but the other part of me—the part that had a functioning brain—wanted a few states separating us. Especially with Hannah Banana around, staking her claim and making me feel like an advertisement for Nerdgirl Monthly in my plain T-shirt, shorts, and borrowed moccasins.
“I guess you could say I’m a tour guide.” Maeve smiled at me. “We’re just stocking up for the picnic.” She turned a less smiley gaze on Hannah. “You’re coming this year, I assume.”
Hannah grinned so big, she looked like she was trying out for the part of The Joker. Her eyes even sparkled. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been to every single one since I was just a kid. I love being part of the MacKenzie family.”
My nostrils flared at the idea, and the kitty claws came out before I could think to sheathe them. “Are you a MacKenzie? Like, officially?”
Hannah’s smile went tight at the corners. “I’m one by osmosis. I’ve spent my whole life at Mack’s side, so yeah, I’m pretty much a MacKenzie.”
I swallowed back the retort that was my first response and let out the one that would be most likely to get me home with my eyeballs not scratched out by a jealous waitress. “That’s nice.”
She put her chin in the air. “It is, actually. Mack’s a really good guy. Are you going to be staying in town long? Maybe you and I could have lunch sometime.”
Maeve pushed her cart forward. “Andie, I’m going to check out those cookies I mentioned to you if you want to come take a look.”
Cookies? What cookies? Understanding dawned a second later, and I seized the escape Maeve was offering. “Yeah, I’m coming.” I stepped away, looking over my shoulder at Hannah as I left. “I’m only going to be here another day or so, so I’m going to have to skip lunch. But thanks for the offer.”
“I won’t see you at the picnic?” The hopeful gleam in her eye was impossible to miss.
“Nope. Gotta get back to work.”
“Awww, that’s too bad. Have a nice trip back, though!” She whirled her cart around and pushed it down the first aisle at a fast clip. I was pretty sure she had just added champagne and cake to her shopping list so she could really celebrate my departure in style.
“Thanks for that,” I said to Maeve as I pulled up next to her and her cart. We turned down Aisle Five.
“Don’t mention it. Hannah, that poor misguided girl, sometimes just gets a little ahead of herself.”
“What . . . ? You mean you didn’t sign up to adopt Hannah as your long-lost daughter?”
Maeve chuckled. “No. Definitely not. She’s a sweet girl when she wants to be, but she’s got her claws dug so deep in my boy’s arm, it gets me a little hot under the collar sometimes. But I’m just the mom, so I have to keep my opinions to myself.”
“Maybe Mack should just give in,” I suggested, sad about the idea but thinking I had to be mature about it. “She seems really dedicated to him.”
Maeve stopped pushing the cart. “Give in and go with a girl he doesn’t care about? What’s he going to do when the girl he’s meant to be with comes along, then? Sounds like a life of sorrow to me.” She shook her head. “No, thank you. I don’t want that for my boys. Life’s too short to settle for second best.”
“Maybe she’s the right girl for him, though. She sure seems to think so.”
“Just because a person is obsessed with the idea of something, it doesn’t make it right or even good for them.” She slowed down and started scanning the shelves for something specific. “Unfortunately, obsessed people are also deaf, dumb, and blind most of the time, so it rarely works to try and help them see the light. Mack is too kind. He has a hard time just coming right out and saying what needs to be said sometimes.”
Her words were like giant Liberty Bells gonging around inside my head. Whether she realized it or not, she wasn’t just talking about Hannah. She was talking about me and my stupid obsession with my lifeplan. Why had I put so much of myself into the idea that I could carefully script everything out?
I knew the answer. Just like Maeve had said yesterday, sometimes when a person’s life is so out of control and scary, the only thing that can give it any sense or meaning is structure. My life as a teen had been such a mess, I’d done what I had to do to get out with my sanity intact. I’d created a new reality for myself so I could survive when survival was the bare minimum I could ever hope for.
I exhaled heavily. As hard as I’d worked at keeping it from happening, my past was still managing to creep into my present to cast its dark shadow.
“Why the big sigh?” asked Maeve, reaching the end of the cookie aisle. She pulled two boxes off the shelf and held them up while winking at me.
I took one from her and stared at the label, not really seeing what was there. “I was thinking about my mom.” I was lost in my memories and had just started talking without realizing what I was saying. Dammit. Too late to take it back. I hated sharing my past with people. It was embarrassing and made me feel second class to quality people like Maeve and her family. Shame burned my cheeks pink.
“Are you close with her?” She took the cookies from my hand and put them in the cart, either not noticing I was flustered or politely ignoring my distress. Either way I was grateful for it.
I looked across the aisle at the cereal, pretending to be interested in one of the sugary breakfast foods. “No, we’re not close at all. We were when I was younger, but she dated a guy who . . . came between us. I haven’t talked to her in years.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Maeve sounded like she really meant it and wasn’t just being polite. “Where is she? Does she live near you?”
“No, actually, she lives closer to you than me. In Seattle, last time I heard.”
“Well, why don’t you stop by for a visit before you go back East?” Maeve put her hand on my upper arm. “No matter what happened in the past, I’m sure she’d love to see you. Mothers never stop missing their kids, even when they’re just in the next town over.”
I grimaced. “No thanks. She’s not someone I want to spend my time with.” I almost shuddered, but stopped myself. No need to pull those particular skeletons out of the closet. I was already making a hell of an impression so far.
Maeve dropped her hand. “That’s too bad.” She pushed the cart forward and turned the corner, banging into something loudly.
“Oh!” she gasped, and then her tone turned to one of anger. “Hannah, what are you doing skulking around over here?”
“Skulking? I’m not skulking. I’m just getting my groceries!” Hannah Banana was the picture of innocence, her eyebrows so high they were practically at her hairline.
“Is that so?” Maeve looked pointedly in Hannah’s cart.
The entire basket was empty, and Hannah was already three quarters of the way through the store. I got nervous, wondering how much of my conversation with Maeve she’d overheard.
“Yes, it is so. I’m here to get barbecue meat for tonight’s dinner. I’ve got the old group coming over. Mack, Ian, Ginny, and me.”
Maeve snorted. “Are you throwing a party or a funeral?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped open for a second before she recovered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Maeve shook her head, maneuvering her cart around Hannah’s. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Did you check with my boys before you made your plans? Because we have calves to work.”
“Not yet, but I’m sure they’ll come. I have a surprise for them.” Her cocky smile made me want to slap her. I got the distinct impression that she thought her influence over the MacKenzie men was stronger than their mother’s. I didn’t know them that well, but I couldn’t imagine that this was the case.
I caught up to Maeve in time to see her rolling her eyes. She was already moving down the next aisle. “Okay, well, enjoy your party,” she said without looking back.
Hannah looked at me, a saccharine smile stretching her lips as she spoke up loud enough for half the store to hear. “I’d invite you, Angie, but I have a really small place, and Mack is not really into hanging out with strangers much. He likes to just keep it simple, you know?” Her head cocked to the side, as if she expected me to answer.
I stopped halfway down the aisle. “It’s Andie, not Angie. If you’d invited me, I would have declined anyway. I’m leaving town after I talk to Mack today.”
“Awww, bummer. Okay, well, have a nice flight.” She wiggled some polished acrylic fingernails in my direction and pushed her cart away, disappearing around the end of the aisle.
Maeve was muttering to herself when I caught up with her.
“Anything I can get for you?” I asked, holding lightly onto the edge of the cart.
“No, I’m about done here. Just got the last ingredient for my famous lemon bars. Come on, let’s get out of here before I say something stupid to someone I should be ignoring. I’ll grab the cream cheese on the way out.”
We made our way to the front of the store through the refrigerated aisle and paid for the groceries. Maeve refused to let me contribute, saying, “You’re our guest, and guests don’t pay,” even though I was already at least two meals into her hospitality and would probably have one more before leaving.
The happiness over her generosity only lasted about five seconds. As we were walking out the door, I noticed a familiar figure striding toward the front of the store. His swagger was impossible to miss.
“There he is.” Maeve waved him down. “Mack!”
The man in the cowboy hat turned his head and smiled. Then he caught sight of me and the smile disappeared.
My god, he is so gorgeous, it should be illegal. Ten thousand butterflies took up residence in my stomach and started a little rodeo when the memories of what we’d done last night came rushing back to greet me.