Chapter 21
21
MAC
“What are you thankful for, Mac?”
Nothing. That’s the answer I want to give. But my entire family is staring at me. Mom. Dad. Casey. Uncle Lyle and Aunt Peggy.
Their kids. And their kids’ kids.
This is a tradition I’ve never liked. Because nothing isn’t a suitable answer. Neither is “I’m thankful Dad isn’t drunk and throwing the turkey across the room.” That had been a fun Thanksgiving.
Nothing isn’t even true. I’m thankful for a lot of things. They’re just difficult to remember right now. I want to stew in my misery, preferably by sitting in my room and listening to sad country songs.
“Mac?” The hitch in my mom’s voice gets to me. She desperately wants this Thanksgiving to go well. To be fair, that desperation is there for every holiday since that’s statistically the most likely time for a relapse.
Ow . I don’t glare at my sister or rub my leg. That’s not how this works. “I’m thankful for all of you.” My admission is more of a mumble than a statement.
I stare at the food on my plate and not the prying eyes of my family as I wait for the next person. After a few seconds of nothing, I glance up. All eyes are still on me. Well, not Kylee’s. She’s sneaking kernels of corn off her plate. “What?” In my head, it was less of a shout.
Mom’s eyes well up. And I want to sink to the floor and hide under the table. Hint: that did not work out well when Kylee tried it.
“We do not raise our voice at the dinner table, Edward.” My father looks five seconds away from ordering me to my room. Or worse. I’m tempted to make a snarky remark about yelling and flying turkeys when he adds, “Not anymore.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “I didn’t mean to yell, Mom.” Twisting my napkin in my hands, I blink back my tears. No crying at the table either. At least that’s what Mom told Kylee five minutes ago. I feel a real kinship with my sister right now. I wonder if I could sneak away for a nap.
We still haven’t moved on, and I want to shout more things.
“Did you and Rainn have a fight?” Uncle Lyle asks, and I stare at him. Is this relevant right now? In the middle of Thanksgiving dinner? He chuckles. “Every year, you’re always thankful for the same two things. Your best friend Rainn and your horse Daisy. Every year, Mac.”
That can’t be true, but they’re all still staring at me. “Okay, I get your point.” But I’m not pouring my heart out in front of my entire family on Thanksgiving. “Casey? What are you thankful for?”
“I agree with Mac. I’m thankful for everyone in this room.” She smiles like she means it. And I have no doubt she does. As we move on to the next person, she says out of the side of her mouth, “That’s the way to deliver that line. More heart and less mumbling. Tears optional.”
I snort right as Aunt Peggy tells us she’s thankful the lord has graced us with this bounty when so many are less fortunate. Everyone turns to me again.
“Amen, Aunt Peggy,” I say with as much heart as I can muster. “Amen.”
“Better.” Casey still doesn’t look at me as they move on to the kids. “Maybe a bit less heart.”
The food is amazing, as always, but I barely taste it as I swallow a bite so my mom stops giving me those sad looks. I poke at my dressing, separating it into sections on my plate and trying not to wonder what Rainn is doing right now. Rainn and Cher. My pokes turn into jabs.
“So, Mac, is the wedding back on?” Aunt Peggy asks. Her smile slips when I look up.
I blink away my anger. It’s not directed at her. “Wedding?”
She laughs, and it sounds a little nervous as her eyes dart from my mom back to me. “Rainn and Cher. He’s spending Thanksgiving with her…” Her voice trails off, and her eyes widen, obviously making some connection. All eyes turn back to me. This time, they’re full of pity.
They don’t know. They can’t know. So what do they think? I’m upset that my best might be getting married. That he’s spending the holidays with the person most important to him. And it’s not me?
Am I that pitiful? Transparent? I want to yell at them that Rainn can’t legally marry Cher. And that he’s actually there for Hettie. But I can’t say any of those things.
“They aren’t back together.” I try to keep my voice even. “They’re working on the New Year’s Eve charity ball. It’s the only time Rainn had free.” That, at least, is partially true.
Her eyes light up. “I heard Pit Bull is going to be there.”
“No.”
“Jack Black?”
“Also, no.”
“The tape guy from that talent show?” Uncle Lyle asks.
“You think?” Aunt Peggy looks dubious. “I heard Roz might be there. Their costumes are amazing.”
At Uncle Lyle’s look, she shrugs. “I’ve seen videos.” She waggles her brows. “But a trip to Vegas would be fun.”
“It’s all for a good cause,” Mom says. “The money will go to help kids, right, dear?”
I nod. “It’s to provide housing and food to kids on their own.” I don’t mention it’s specifically for LGBTQ+ kids with a focus on trans kids. They can Google it if they want more details.
My dressing is nothing but mush at this point. Kylee giggles, and I see she’s made a mountain with her mashed potatoes and is rolling her peas down the side.
“Cher and Rainn make such a cute couple,” Aunt Peggy says in a low voice to Mom. Unfortunately, it’s not low enough. “I bet they get back together.”
I ignore everyone after that, counting down to when I can retreat to my room. It’s not Rainn being with Cher that bothers me. I feel like I’m losing him. Normally, when I want to drown myself in sad country songs or yell at my family, I call my best friend.
This is what you get for being selfish, Mac. Wanting him all to yourself.
I jab my plate, taking my frustration out on the turkey until a hand covers mine, and Casey takes my fork away.
“The turkey is already dead. But go ahead and destroy the brussels sprouts.” She shudders.
After the meal, people settle down to either watch the football game while rubbing their overstuffed bellies or file to the kitchen to help clean. Mom is playing Go Fish with Kylee and our younger cousins while sneaking glances at the kitchen. The rule is Mom cooked, so everyone else cleans up. That usually means Casey and I are the ones on kitchen duty. As I head that way, my sister pulls me into the laundry room.
The mountain-fresh scent of the laundry soup always reminds me of home. The dryer thumps along like someone has thrown a shoe in it. But since it has chugged along like that for the last five years, we’re all just waiting for the day it gives up entirely.
“Out with it, Patsy Cline. What’s going on?”
I should have never admitted to listening to “I Fall To Pieces” over and over. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
She glares, waving a hand between us. “We don’t lie to each other, Mac. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ is an acceptable response. ‘I’m fine’ is bullshit.”
I nod my head with a heavy sigh. “You’re right, Case. Thanks.” I squeeze her arm, and the fight seeps out of her. “I don’t want to talk about it.” And she’s back in angry-sister mode. No longer relaxed. Or comforting. Which is fine by me. “May the witness be excused?”
“Overruled. Why is your man with his ex instead of here?”
Lord. “He’s not my man.”
“Really? Let’s look at the evidence. Exhibit one,” she says, holding up a finger and then pointing it at me. “Las Vegas marriage license with your name and his on it.”
“Since you brought it up.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Where are we on the divorce? Isn’t that supposed to be done by now?”
Her mouth drops open. “Seriously?”
I frown, cracking my knuckles. “I sent the papers back weeks ago.” I ignore the familiar prickles behind my eyes. Rainn left the papers in my room for me to find. No words. No note. Divorce papers with his signature, ending our marriage. I returned them almost immediately. At least then, I didn’t have to look at them and remember that Rainn doesn’t want me. Doesn’t want to be married to me. That all of this was a drunken mistake. I touch the ring. The reflex is automatic but no longer comforting. Can I still wear this if we aren’t married?
She shakes her head. “Idiot.”
I glare at her. “What’s the problem? Rainn signed the papers.”
“But you didn’t.”
“What? I did—” But did I? The memory is blurred by hurt. Anger. Reading them over and over. The ink getting wet and smearing in places. I finally jammed the papers back into the envelope so I wouldn’t destroy them completely.
Without actually signing them. Oh lord.
I expect a pitying look from my sister. I don’t get it. Instead, I get the piercing stare she usually reserves for the opposing side. Her I’ve-got-you-cornered-but-you-just-don’t-realize-it look. I tense, preparing for the worst. Then she smiles. “No worries, bro,” she says, patting my shoulder. “I have them with me. You can sign them now.”
“Now?” I laugh a little too loud, though not loud enough to drown out the blood rushing through my head. “It’s Thanksgiving, Case. We can do that later.” I push down the feeling of being back in that airplane. But this time, I’m sure it’s going to crash.
“Or we can make a deal.”
“I’m not one of your clients—” I snap my mouth shut. Because I am. A client. A nonpaying one.
She raises a brow.
“Fine. Whatever. What’s the deal?”
“I’ll file the papers with my other pending cases, giving you time to assess your life choices.” She smiles, and there’s the sympathetic look I’ve been waiting for. “All you have to do is admit your guilt. To me. Right now.”
Is that it? I fold my arms across my chest. “I didn’t sign the papers.”
“No, idiot. I’m looking for motive.” Her eyes soften again. “You’re in love with him.”
The small amount of Thanksgiving dinner threatens to come back up. “You’re wrong.”
“I thought we didn’t lie to each other, Mac. Or…wait, do you actually believe that?”
“I can’t be—” I gesture, hoping she gets it because I can’t bring myself to say the words. “I love Rainn. Sure. But I’m not gay.”
“It’s okay to be attracted to guys.”
“I’m not?—”
She holds up her hand to stop me. “I hate to belabor the point, but you had sex with Rainn. A guy.”
“Okay, yes, I’m attracted to Rainn, but it’s only him. I’m not attracted to other guys. What if none of this is real? Just me being needy and clingy and not wanting to lose him?” The words come out in a rush, and I feel drained. Empty. Ashamed. I turn away and wipe my eyes.
She lets out a sympathetic sound, and this time, it doesn’t bother me when she squeezes my arm. “You might be demisexual.”
“Never heard of it.” I sound pouty like Kylee when she doesn’t want to take a nap.
She’s quiet for a minute, and all I can hear is the dryer thumping and Casey tapping on her phone. Then mine buzzes. “I sent you an article that explains it better than I can. But the gist is that someone who’s demisexual only feels attraction to someone after they form a strong emotional bond with them.”
“I never had a bond with Sally Jo,” I say as if that proves her wrong.
“You do know the difference between thinking someone is attractive and being attracted to them, right?”
“I don’t want to be labeled.” Definitely giving off Kylee vibes now. I shift on my feet at her patient look. And my eyes do that prickly thing again.
“Mac—”
“ Patience you much have ,” Yoda says, signaling a text from Rainn. Casey rolls her eyes, but I pretend I don’t notice.
Rainn
Can I call?
Instead of answering, I call him. If it can’t be done over text, it has to be important. And maybe I miss hearing his voice. He answers right away.
My heart thumps louder than the dryer as I turn away from my sister and wait for him to answer. It doesn’t take long. “Hey, Rainn. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Mac…” His voice breaks, and I realize he’s been crying. “Fuck, it’s Thanksgiving. Jesus, I’m an asshole.”
“Don’t hang up.” I glance at my sister and her knowing look. She gives me a wave and leaves us alone. “What’s wrong?”
“I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry?—”
My growl stops his words. “ What’s wrong ?”
He takes a few breaths until they even out. “Nothing. Really . I started reading Mom’s letters.”
He must pull the phone away because he blows his nose, and it sounds farther away. “I thought I could do it. But it’s hard. I just…I can’t do this alone.” I don’t mention he’s not alone. At least three other people are there. Maybe more. But I can’t think about Miles possibly being there. “I need you, Mac.”
All my questions settle. None of it matters. Gay? Straight? Demisexual? The only fact I know for sure is that I would do anything for this man. Am I in love with him?
Yes. Absolutely.
“Never mind. I’m—you’re with your family, Mac.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Are you sure?”
“No other place I’d rather be. Give me an hour.”
He laughs, and it soothes some of my worry. “Don’t get a ticket. I’m fine, or I will be once you get here.”
Mom fusses about me leaving until I tell her it’s Rainn. Then it’s like they all know they’re wasting their breath arguing.
Casey stops me at the door and pulls me in for a hug. “Be careful.”
“I will.” I lean back and catch her eyes. “Thanks, sis.”
“Any time,” she says, stepping back and patting my arm.
I open the door and everyone starts yelling their goodbyes again. I laugh and smile at them. My mom and dad. Uncle Lyle, who lets me keep Daisy on his farm, my nosy Aunt Peggy, and Kylee running over to give me another hug. I need to go before I break down. Rainn is waiting for me.
But what if this is my last trip home? I can’t pretend anymore that this thing with Rainn isn’t real. What if they can’t accept me being with a guy?
No sense in focusing on that now. I smile and wave before turning to open the screen door.
“Oh, Mac. One last thing.”
I glance back at my sister, raising a brow in question.
Casey winks. “I rest my case.”