Chapter 7
Mackenzie
Mom and I head to Dad’s office in the back of Happy Endings for a private talk. As soon as I shut the door behind us, she says, “What’s wrong?”
I take a steadying breath. I don’t want to lash out in anger over her meddling ways. I’m a mature adult. No curse words necessary this time. “Mom, I get the feeling you’re doing a little matchmaking between me and Cal.”
Her eyes widen. “Why do you say that? I told you to stay away from him. The man clearly has commitment issues.”
“Yes, but then you invited him to the Chamber of Commerce meeting.”
She smiles. “So? He should be part of town events. He’s the town lawyer now.”
“The same meeting you invited me to for the first time.”
“A long overdue invitation.”
I huff, my temper spiking. It’s very hard to hold my temper in the face of her serene replies. I understand why Dad was driven to an escalating prank war with her back in the day. “Bit of a coincidence, the timing, don’t you think?”
She lifts one shoulder in a dainty shrug. “Is that all? I’d like to get back to the party. Ally’s going away for four months, so I want to spend more time with her. Me and the girls planned a fun dance to surprise her with. Come on, let’s go.”
I hold up a palm. “Wait. I think it’s suspicious that you keep inviting Cal to stuff where you know I’ll be. Like this party.”
She shakes her head. “Not everything’s about you, Mackenzie. There’s lots of other people at these events. I’m just trying to make him feel welcome in his new hometown. I’d want someone to do the same for you if you moved to a new town.”
“What’s with all the networking help?” I ask in complete exasperation.
“If he doesn’t have enough work, we’ll lose our town lawyer.”
In the face of her extreme denial and reasonable explanations, I’m forced to give up the fight. “Okay, but under no circumstances are you to matchmake me with anyone ever again. You made a solemn promise to Dad to stop. I have no problem ratting you out, and he will not be happy.”
Mom loves to make Dad happy and is miserable if he’s upset with her, which he rarely is. Have to say, the reverse is also true. #couplegoals
She flips her strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder and opens the door. “Dad will have no reason to be unhappy with me. Try to mingle with some other guys, Mackenzie. Cal’s a dead end in the romance department.”
I stand there for a moment. Maybe she’s right about Cal, and she’s been looking out for me all along.
I smooth my hair back and try to think this through.
Is it me? Maybe I’m being paranoid because of her past matchmaking efforts on my behalf.
Not to mention the Mom matchmaking stories from my aunts, uncles, and her friends.
Legendary. Subtle. Persistent. Aunt Lauren even signed up for her Make Love BloomTM plan, which Mom trademarked and everything.
The plan fell flat on its face, but Aunt Lauren ended up with the love of her life despite it.
Mom still takes credit, saying she helped Aunt Lauren see what was out there and to appreciate what was right in front of her. Who can argue with that kind of logic?
I feel a little silly now. I can’t let the past warp my view of reality.
I make a right onto my parents’ street. It’s Saturday, a week after my talk with Mom, and I offered to help her out with a trip to an estate sale. I haven’t run into Cal all week, so that’s the end of that.
Okay, hard truth—I’ve spent way too much time thinking about the wisdom of getting involved with a guy who casually leaves a year-long relationship. As if getting involved with Cal is a real problem I have. He’s shown no signs of wanting to be further involved with me. Not even a text.
I miss him. I wish that weren’t true.
Maybe Cal realized late that he and Rayna weren’t right for each other.
Or does he really have a problem with commitment?
Would he leave me if we got serious? I know there’s no way of knowing a relationship is a sure thing, but I’d like some assurances if I was going to venture in that direction.
Some way of knowing that there’s something special between us.
A sign. That sounds ridiculously superstitious and borderline romantic.
Obviously great sex has made me delusional. The man told me he’s bad at relationships. I need to believe him.
And stop thinking about him.
And fantasizing about him.
Life goes on, right? One foot in front of the other. Speaking of which, Mom sprained her ankle attempting pickleball with her friends. I feel bad for her, but at the same time it’s a well-known fact that dodging the ball only works in dodgeball.
Parking in my parents’ driveway, I brace myself for a long day.
I’m going to drive Mom to an estate sale in the country, where she plans to bid on some antiques for Ludbury House.
She’s always on the lookout for antique furniture and wedding gear like candlesticks, vases, and tablecloths for her wedding planning office and venue.
I ring the bell and wait. I’ve got a key, but you never know when a horny parent will decide to take advantage of an empty nest and go for a living room romp. Seriously don’t want to see that. Again.
Mom answers the door on crutches, wearing a purple dress, a loafer, and an ankle boot. She still looks radiant. She shifts back to let me in. “Thank you so much for coming! I appreciate you helping me out on your day off.”
“Of course. What were you thinking with a ball sport?”
“Aunt Mad convinced me pickleball was easy. She said it was like Ping-Pong.” She gives me a can you believe it look.
“Not so much.”
“No.”
“Shouldn’t you be off your feet? Where’s Dad?”
“I had my ankle elevated all morning. I’ve been up since five. And Dad’s making pancakes. Want some?”
“I’m good. Already ate.”
Dad appears wearing an apron and holding a spatula. “I made banana chocolate-chip.”
My favorite. My mouth waters. “With crushed walnuts on top and homemade whipped cream?”
Dad smirks. “Is there any other way?”
Calories be damned! “Okay, one pancake.”
“Great!” Mom says. “Take your time. I don’t need to be first for browsing the antiques. I’ve catalogued what I want from the website. The auction’s not until twelve.”
I step into the kitchen, where a place is already set for me. Dad serves me up a fluffy pancake, sprinkles walnuts on top, ladles on a generous dollop of whipped cream, and indicates the maple syrup nearby.
The first bite is heaven. Truth is, nothing beats Dad’s cooking. He’s been taking classes for years and loves experimenting in the kitchen. We’re so spoiled; even restaurant cooking can’t compare. Other than Dad’s restaurant, of course.
“So good,” I say. This almost makes up for spending my Saturday shopping for antiques. I much prefer a modern style in home decor.
Dad smiles and goes back to making more pancakes.
“Who’s going to eat all these pancakes?” I ask, thinking my brothers may have gotten roped into antique shopping, too.
Mom sits at the table, setting her crutches next to her. “We’ll have leftovers all week for breakfast, and Cooper pops in regularly.”
I cut another piece of pancake and distribute walnuts, whipped cream, and syrup on top. “So, Dad, not into estate sale shopping?” I take a bite of pancake heaven. Too bad I had a breakfast smoothie, or I could eat more of these.
Dad turns from the stove. “I’ve got an event at Happy Endings later this afternoon. Can’t fit in the long drive.”
“So you’re buttering me up with pancakes.”
“Nah. Just wanted to make my favorite daughter happy.”
I roll my eyes, even though I’m secretly delighted. “I’m your only daughter.”
“Still my favorite one.”
I shake my head, smiling. The doorbell rings. “Can Cooper smell pancakes across town?”
Mom and Dad exchange a look that sets my nerves on edge. Mom’s look says be chill, and Dad’s says You didn’t. Uh-oh.
“I’ll get it,” Dad says, turning off the stovetop. “Just finished in time.”
Mom gives me an apologetic smile. “I asked Cal to come along to do the heavy lifting. There’s an antique buffet up for auction I really want for the dining room at Ludbury House. I didn’t want you to strain your back, and I’m in no shape to help with this ankle.”
My jaw drops. The audacity. Pretending to be innocent when I confronted her about matchmaking with Cal and now this.
Oh, it is on.
Cal appears in the kitchen, his large frame sucking all the air from the room. I swear the kitchen feels smaller. “Good morning. I heard there were pancakes.”
“Help yourself,” Dad says, gesturing to the stack on the counter.
“Thank you.” Cal glances at me, says a quick hi, and then goes for the pancakes. He puts two loaded pancakes on a plate and sits next to me, across from Mom.
Mom smiles like she’s won the lottery. “Cal, thank you so much for helping out. We really appreciate it.”
He chews and swallows his pancake. “Happy to help out. You’ve done so much for me. I got another new client thanks to you. Mel asked me to help him with that property-line issue.”
“Wonderful!” Mom says.
I get why Mom invited him, devious woman, but why did Cal go along with giving up his Saturday?
Surely he has a lot to do setting up his new business and apartment.
Is he here to appease the woman who’s helped him meet everyone in town or to see me?
I focus on my pancakes, my mind whirling with what all this means.
“Thank you two so much,” Mom says, slowly rising from her chair. Dad rushes to help her, making sure she’s all set with the crutches. “Enjoy your pancakes. I’d better go upstairs and raise this ankle. Josh, when you’re done in here, join me upstairs.”
Dad comes to full attention, whipping off his apron. Mom giggles as he closes the distance, a predatory look in his eyes before he sweeps her off her feet. The crutches clatter to the floor. He carries her out, and Mom wiggles her fingers at us.
I glance sideways at Cal, both embarrassed and happy for them.
He grins.
Cal