Nineteen
The tea party with Aunt Addy was fine, but the longer it dragged on, the more antsy Mackenzie grew.
After Liam left, Granny’s boyfriend Reggie stopped by, his eyes bright and his arms full of wildflowers.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he sat down. “I couldn’t come empty handed, and when I picked these up, I got into a half hour chat about the pair of kayakers getting pulled out to sea.”
“Oh no! Are they okay?” Addy asked.
“Thankfully, yes. You can never be too careful with the ocean. It has a mind of its own,” Reggie said.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Eliza sprung from her seat. “I’ll get you some soup.”
More soup. Great .
Mackenzie held her groan in, boring her stare into the ceiling. Leave it up to Eliza to find a bunch of soup recipes and start the long process of perfecting them. Now they were stuck eating soup at a tea party.
What kind of tea party had soup anyway?
Aunt Addy wasn’t complaining, though, and she was the guest of honor. Come to think of it, she wasn’t talking much at all.
She seemed engaged, though. She laughed a lot. When Eliza did an impression of their mom making excuses for not finishing her newest music album, Aunt Addy was in stitches, wiping tears from her eyes.
Still, she didn’t seem totally herself. Her spark was missing.
Oh, how Mackenzie hated Uncle Shane for snuffing out that spark. She’d never particularly liked him, but she loved Aunt Addy so much it didn’t matter.
Mackenzie could tell her anything. When they were little, Aunt Addy was always the one to play dress up and hide and seek and jump into the pool. She didn’t care about getting her hair wet or looking silly. Sometimes, it felt like she was just a much older sister.
How was Aunt Addy getting through this divorce? Maybe she could teach Mackenzie a thing or two.
So far, Mackenzie’s best technique for getting through her own breakup had been to keep busy – and to daydream. She’d managed to block most of her sad flashbacks by replacing them with visions of success: a star-studded Blackfish Ball, Lottie leaping with joy in the ocean, and maybe, just maybe , a news story with a picture of her face floating its way back to her ex, Steve.
Was it conceited to want him to see what she was doing? Maybe. But it was how she was getting by, particularly after pictures from his engagement party had flooded every corner of her phone.
She couldn’t stop looking at them, and when she wasn’t looking at them, she was thinking about them. Where did his fiancée get her dress? Who were all those people at the party? Why did they hire a DJ? What kind of people needed an ice sculpture of a giant heart at their engagement party?
Deep down, she knew Steve’s impending blissful marriage wasn’t her problem. She was her problem.
Whether she’d admit it out loud or not, Mackenzie knew some teeny, tiny vain part of her was determined to rescue Russell’s mess so she could throw it in Steve’s face.
Mackenzie couldn’t help it. She needed to win , and the risk of it all blowing up in her face kept her going.
What if she failed Lottie? What if they couldn’t get the sea pen built or if Mrs. Smitt got her way? What if the amazing job at Opuluxe Escapes got snatched away as soon as Cameron realized what a fraud she was and she never got another job in sales again?
Her stomach lurched and she pushed her bowl away. That was enough soup for today.
She needed to get back to what she could control. She pulled out her phone and texted Liam.
How’s it going?
It took fifteen minutes to get a reply.
Not bad. I made it four houses before a lady insisted I come in for milk and cookies.
Mackenzie stifled a laugh. Don’t tell me you went inside.
I did. It’s been over an hour. I’ve helped her hang a curtain rod and three pictures of her grandkids.
She burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Eliza asked, gathering empty bowls. “Is my soup bad? Are you texting Shelby and Emma about it?”
Mackenzie set her phone down. “No, Eliza, I don’t have a secret text group with our sisters to make fun of your soup.”
Eliza stared, biting her lip.
“The soup was great!” Mackenzie insisted. “I’m laughing because I just got a text from Liam. A sweet old lady lured him into her home with milk and cookies. I think I need to rescue him.”
Eliza laughed. “Fine, but hurry back. I made mini lemon pudding cakes.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She got up from the table and stepped outside to make the call.
He answered quickly. “Hello?”
“Hello, dear. Are you coming home?”
A slight pause, then, “Oh. Yes. I’ll be home soon. So sorry.”
“Hurry up, Liam!” she yelled. “I’ve been waiting an hour!”
A laugh snorted out of her and she quickly ended the call, returning to her seat.
His message came five minutes later.
Thanks for that. She finally released me, though she made me promise to come back tomorrow to fix a running toilet.
I hope the cookies were worth it , she wrote back.
She watched the dots on her screen as he typed his response.
Saved you one to judge for yourself.
She smiled. That was nice of him.
I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to join you today. We’re having the longest tea party ever and Granny’s insisting we have a fire on the beach afterward. You should probably keep the cookie for yourself .
He wrote back quickly.
No problem at all. I’ll keep going. I’m happy to help, and excited about my budding handyman business.
“Mackenzie!” Eliza barked.
Her head shot up. “Sorry. What did I miss?”
She put her hands on her hips. “My lemon pudding cakes. Do you want one?”
“Yes, they look great. Thank you.” Mackenzie grabbed a cake and tucked her phone away. She had to trust Liam to handle the polling on his own. As much as it killed her to stand by idly, she didn’t have much of a choice at the moment.