Chapter 40 Mac
40
MAC
“What the hell are we going to do?” Lizzie hovered over my shoulder as I sat at the desk, typing furiously on the computer. Our supplier emailed late last night, cutting us off. No more liquor deliveries.
In a place as tucked-away and stubbornly small as Faircloud, we didn’t exactly have a long list of backup options.
I let out a low, frustrated sigh and scrubbed a hand down my face. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
I’d come in early to knock out some office work, but as soon as I saw the message, I called Lizzie. To my surprise, she showed up almost immediately.
“We needed to place a new order today, too,” she said, her tone sharp with urgency. “We’re running low on half the inventory.”
I nodded, eyes locked on the screen, willing a solution to appear. Thinking. Running through options. We could try the commission board for a new distributor, but even if we got a rush order approved, delivery could take forever out here. That’s if a distributor was even willing to make the drive.
My phone buzzed on the desk, vibrating sharply against the wood. I didn’t look at the caller ID. Just grabbed it and brought it to my ear with a brisk, “Yeah?”
“Mac.”
Her voice. Penny’s voice. Breathless. Tight with worry.
I snapped to attention, fingers lifting off the keyboard as a cold current of dread sliced through me.
“Pen?” I asked, heart already thudding in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I—I don’t know,” she whispered. It sounded like she was moving, pacing maybe, her voice quiet like she didn’t want to be overheard.
I leaned in instinctively, like that would somehow bring me closer to her. “Talk to me. What do you mean? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay,” she replied quickly. “But it’s Sandy.”
I froze.
Sandy. If it wasn’t Penny, she was the next person I worried about most. I knew what that woman meant to her.
“What happened?”
“I had a patron stop by the library and they mentioned that Petal Pusher didn’t open this morning.” Her voice cracked slightly. “That’s not like her, Mac. She’s always there. Always opens on time.”
“I’ll go,” I said instantly, already moving. My boots scuffed across the office floor. “I’ll head over and check on her.”
“I’m in a meeting with the board,” Penny continued, her breath shaking. “I can’t leave right now and I just—” She inhaled sharply. “I’m so worried.”
Her voice broke something open inside me.
“I’ve got it,” I promised, ready to storm out the door. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there.”
Ready and hell bent on making sure everything was okay, I hung up the phone. My sister caught my arm before I could storm out.
“Don’t you dare try to stop me,” I snapped, eyes blazing. If she thought now was the time to give me hell, she had another thing coming.
“I’m not,” she said quickly, her voice steady but soft. “I was going to say, take your time. Go help her. We’ll cover the bar.”
I stilled. Gratitude flickered in my chest. Her expression was softer than usual, her features touched with worry.
“I know it was Penny,” she added gently. “Go.”
I gave her a firm nod and she released me.
Bursting out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, I broke into a jog toward the flower shop a few blocks away.
My heart pounded in my ears. Sweat gathered along my hairline. I wasn’t a runner, and I was already regretting every cigarette I’d ever smoked because my lungs were on fire.
If anything happened to Sandy, Penny would be devastated. I didn’t want to be the one to give her that kind of news.
Sandy never missed a day. Not once. The only time she ever closed Petal Pusher was when her husband, Hank, passed away—drastic measures.
When I reached the shop, I stepped into the vestibule and yanked on the front door. Nothing. Locked tight. The lights were off.
Pressing my face against the glass, I spotted a soft glow coming from the prep room in the back.
Her purse was on the counter. Her phone, too.
Shit.
Stepping back, I weighed my options. No spare key. No time to wait for emergency service.
I inhaled sharply, bracing myself. Then I raised my leg and kicked the door handle.
It rattled, but the lock held.
I kicked again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, setting my jaw and going for it one last time. I slammed my boot against the lock with everything I had.
Snap.
The lock gave way, and the door opened enough for me to shove my body through. I sprinted toward the back, bursting through the double black doors and into the prep room.
I found Sandy lying on the floor, completely still.
“Sandy,” I called out, dropping to my knees beside her.
She groaned faintly, her eyes fluttering open before slipping closed again.
“Sandy,” I repeated, gently lifting her head and leaning down to check her breathing. Her eyes opened again, unfocused.
“Mac?” she rasped, her voice thin and dry.
“I’m here.” I scanned her quickly, looking for blood, a wound—anything—but I didn’t see any.
She tried to sit up, grimacing in pain. I helped, but she immediately winced and sank back down.
“What hurts?”
“My hip… and my head,” she murmured, her hand fumbling toward her temple.
“Okay, don’t move,” I said, cradling her gently and resting her head in my lap. I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency number. “I’m calling someone.”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes drifted shut again.
“Hey,” I said, tapping her cheek lightly. “Come on, Sandy. Stay with me. Penny would be pissed if anything happened to you on my watch.”
A weak laugh escaped her lips, and her eyes cracked open again.
The phone rang in my ear, sharp and urgent, until a voice finally answered.
“Faircloud Emergency Service.”
“I need help at Petal Pusher on Main,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm as I looked down at Sandy. Her soft white hair was mussed, her head tilted to the side. Her eyes blinked slowly, unfocused.
“What’s the situation?” The woman on the other end asked.
“I have Sandy here. She fell and seems pretty out of it. I don’t see any blood.”
I heard the rapid clack of keys, then a pause.
“Okay. I’ve dispatched someone to your location. They’ll get her to the emergency clinic.”
“Thank you,” I said, the breath leaving my lungs in a rush of relief.
“ETA is five minutes. He’s just down the road.”
I stayed on the floor beside Sandy, gently brushing a hand over her arm to keep her alert.
She groaned softly, then cleared her throat. “Who called you?”
“Pen,” I answered. “Someone came into the library and mentioned the shop didn’t open this morning. She got worried.”
Sandy shifted, like she wanted to sit up. I gently pressed my hand to her shoulder.
“Don’t try to move. Just talk to me until help gets here.”
I wasn’t a medic, but I’d seen enough growing up—my dad on the floor too many nights after drinking himself into oblivion. You always had to be careful with head injuries. And since Sandy mentioned her hip, I could only assume she hit both on the way down.
“I’ve been down here way too long,” she muttered, her voice thinned with pain.
“Just a little longer,” I said, my tone soft. Steady.
“At least I’m lying on the lap of a handsome man.” She tried to smile, even through the pain.
I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. That was Sandy—trying to smooth the edges, even while broken.
“What happened?” I asked gently, needing to keep her talking.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “One minute I was standing, the next… you were here.”
I let out a low hum, but before I could say more, the sound of movement echoed from the front of the shop.
“In here!” I called out.
A tall, broad-shouldered man pushed through the doors, his gaze quickly finding us. He nodded and motioned to someone behind him.
A woman followed, wheeling in a gurney.
“Sandy?” the man asked, kneeling beside her.
“Oh, hi Buddy,” she breathed, a tired smile forming on her lips.
Buddy and his partner worked quickly and efficiently, lifting Sandy off the floor with practiced care. I stepped back, heart tight, as they secured her onto the gurney and slipped an oxygen mask over her face.
“I’m coming with,” I said firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Buddy and the woman exchanged a brief glance before nodding in silent agreement as they wheeled Sandy through the sleek black double doors. I stayed close behind, each step heavier than the last, a tight coil of dread twisting in my gut.
Someone had to tell Penny.
And that someone was me.
As we passed the front counter, I reached out and grabbed Sandy’s purse and phone. The screen lit up in my hand—twenty missed calls from Penelope. My chest clenched. She must be beside herself.
I’d call her once we got Sandy settled, but right now, all I could manage was a message.
Climbing into the back of the ambulance, I sat beside Sandy as they secured her for transport. My fingers hovered over the phone screen for a beat before I began to type.
Mac: I’m with Sandy. She’s conscious, but we’re on our way to the clinic now. I’ll call as soon as I can.
I hit send, the weight of those few words pressing down on me like a boulder.
Then I turned my attention back to Sandy, who was trying not to grimace through every bump in the road. I reached for her hand and held it gently in mine, anchoring both of us in the moment.
Because everything else, the bar, the liquor supply, the panic about the plan, none of it mattered right now.