Chapter 7 #2
We watched the movie and sipped our beers while the kids munched popcorn and slurped lemonade.
At one point, Millie wanted more snacks, Felicity needed a bathroom break, and Winnie wanted a stuffed animal, so we hit pause.
All three girls got up and took off in various directions, leaving Mack and me alone in the dim living room.
“Another beer?” he asked, rising to his feet.
I hesitated. I was kind of a lightweight, and I didn’t want to get goofy. I wanted him to see me as an adult and not a kid, so getting tipsy wouldn’t help. That said, I was so aware of his body next to mine that I was having trouble relaxing. One more beer couldn’t hurt. “Okay.”
“Good. I thought you were going to be all responsible and say no and I was going to feel shitty for being a bad influence.”
I smiled up at him. “You’re not a bad influence.”
“We’ll see.” He looked toward the kitchen, where someone had turned on the light and an argument had begun over how much time the popcorn needed. “Oh, Jesus. I’ll be right back.”
While he was gone, I grabbed my purse and darted upstairs to use the bathroom, blinking at the bright light. In the mirror over the sink, I checked my reflection, trying to imagine what he saw when he looked at me. A kid? A co-worker? An employee? How could I get him to see me differently?
Give it up, I told my reflection. Then I dug my birth control pills out of my purse and took one for today, turned off the light and returned to the living room, where Mack was already sitting on the couch. The girls were still making a racket in the kitchen.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me another beer.
“Thanks.” I took the bottle and settled onto the couch again, sitting with my legs criss-crossed beneath the blanket this time. I hadn’t done it on purpose, not exactly, but my left knee now rested on his right thigh, and he didn’t move away. My pulse picked up.
Mack’s eyes were on the kitchen as he tipped up his beer. “Sometimes I can’t believe I haven’t totally fucked this dad thing up yet.”
“Are you kidding? You’re a great dad.”
He took another sip. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m doing right by them. Sometimes I’m convinced that I’m doing irreparable harm. Most days, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”
The confession touched me, and his insecurity squeezed my heart. I put a hand on his arm. “Does anyone? I mean, I know you’ve got a lot more to worry about than I do, a lot more responsibility, but I think the same thing sometimes.”
“You do?” He looked at me in surprise.
“Absolutely. I look at my sisters or other people my age and think, what the hell am I doing still living on the family farm with my parents? Why don’t I have more ambition? What’s wrong with me that I’m not out there in the world being a badass?”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to be a badass. You don’t need to be anything other than what you are. And frankly, the world could use more people like you.”
“What am I like?” I asked, surprised and flattered by his words.
“Sweet. Genuine. Kind.”
I stared at the label on the beer bottle. Those were all nice things, and I was glad he thought them of me, but none of them were very exciting or sexy. “Thanks.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
Embarrassed, I laughed a little. “No. I just sometimes wish I wasn’t so … scared.”
“What are you scared of?”
“Lots of things.” I took a drink. “But lately I’ve been worried about life passing me by.”
“What do you mean? You’re so young.”
“But I never take any risks. Never take any chances. I think about the fact that there was a decent chance I wouldn’t even survive childhood, and here I am. So what am I going to do to prove I’m worthy? To make sure I live life to the fullest?”
Mack was silent for a minute. Sipped his beer. “What would that look like for you? To live life to the fullest? What chances would you take?”
I took a breath and was about to answer when the light in the kitchen went out and the girls trooped back into the living room.
“We’re ready,” Felicity said, hopping back on the couch with her bowl, spilling popcorn onto the cushions and floor.
Mack groaned. “Felicity, look what you’re doing.”
“Sorry,” she said, picking up the pieces and putting them back in her bowl.
“Don’t eat the ones from the floor.” He got up and took care of the pieces on the carpet, taking them to the kitchen to throw away while Winifred and Millie settled in again and someone hit play on the movie.
I had to laugh a little, imagining that this was probably what a typical Saturday night looked like around here—a movie, some blankets, some popcorn and lemonade.
A little bickering, a little mess here and there, a couple beers for Mack after a long week of being CFO and Daddy.
It seemed cozy and comforting to me, but that was from the outside.
Was he happy? I wondered, maybe for the first time.
I spent tons of time fantasizing about him, but I really didn’t know him, not intimately.
Was he lonely? Did he feel like he was living his life to the fullest, or was that some stupid idea that only someone in my situation worried about?
After all, what choice did he have? His children were entirely dependent on him for everything from where they slept to what they wore to what they ate to how they felt about themselves.
He was 100 percent responsible for their physical and emotional health.
He didn’t have the luxury of wondering, Gee, am I living my best life?
I felt silly for saying something so frivolous to him while at the same time admiring his devotion to his children. By his own admission, he wasn’t perfect, but he was here, he was trying, and he loved them with his whole heart.
It was inspiring. It was humbling. It was hot.
Even his dirty mouth. For a moment, I wondered just how dirty it got, and felt my face get warm.
When he came back from the kitchen and sat next to me again, I moved my leg to give him more room. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I’m taking up too much space.”
“You’re fine.” Then, to my complete shock, he put his hand on my leg and nudged it back where it had been, resting against his. And left it there.
It was on top of the blanket, and it’s not like he was intimately caressing my inner thigh or anything, but still. Still. My heart thundered. My breath caught. My skin hummed.
That’s when I felt his thumb slowly start to move back and forth just above my knee.