6. Chapter 6 #2
Why does that make me feel even worse? Does she really think she meant so little to me that I wouldn’t try to reach out when she went through something so tragic?
Granted, I haven’t reached out at all. But I think she’s blocked me on Facebook.
“I’m still sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you now?” I ask, and when she pulls her hand away from me, I realize I was still holding it.
And I miss the touch of her skin as soon as it’s gone.
“Unless you can magically change my insurance, no.” She awkwardly chuckles. “But thanks.”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, even though I hate that I can’t fix her problems.
“Do you like working at the FD?” she asks, picking up her sandwich again.
“I love it.” I tell her about being a captain and all the responsibility it entails.
The training, overseeing station operations, heading emergency responses when I’m on duty.
I tell her I tried to be a hotshot, but it didn’t work out.
There’s still some adrenaline that comes with the job, but it’s not quite as risky as fighting wildfires.
While I liked the fast-paced energy of being a firefighter in California, the slower pace here is nice .
“Wow. That’s really cool. I always thought you’d end up doing something with art, and I know you wanted to be a teacher at one point. How did you end up as a firefighter?”
My smile widens at her mention of my art.
I used to draw the most random creatures that would pop into my head.
Mack used to ask me to see them at the end of the day, and I’d explain what they were, and she always used to ask when I was going to draw her.
I only sketched her a few times, but I never felt I could fully capture her beauty the way I wanted to.
I haven’t gotten out my sketchpad and pencils in a while. Life’s gotten in the way.
“After my mission, I went to school to be a teacher and realized it wasn’t for me.
I met Enoch and Nathan in the student ward.
They told me I should come check out an EMS class, and I really liked it.
The prospect of helping people appealed more to me than teaching bored teenagers the basics of drawing. ”
“That’s really cool. Do you still draw, at least?”
“Not as much as I used to. Do you still write?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t had the time or the inspiration. I’m lucky if I can get time to read.”
Mack used to always have her head bent over a notebook, writing poems or stories. I know at one point she wanted to be an author, but I guess it would be hard to do when you’re working two jobs and trying to raise teenagers after a tragedy like losing your parents.
Mack’s so strong. She’s so brave and caring for taking over as guardian for her sisters when she could have easily said she didn’t want to do it.
“What else have you been up to since graduation? ”
“Well, I moved to Oregon about a year after and went to a community college in Bend for two semesters before I dropped out and moved to California. I lived there for four years before I moved back home.”
“What were you studying?”
“Criminal Justice.”
Hm. That was never something I thought she’d be interested in. “What did you want to do with that degree?”
“I wanted to be a victims’ advocate.”
“Is that still something you’d want to pursue?”
Mack shrugs. “Sure, if I had the time or money. When I dropped out to move to Cali, that dream kind of fizzled out.”
She seems like she doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, so I switch topics. “What part of California did you move to?”
“Bakersfield.”
“Oh, cool. I was in the San Diego area for about two years. Kind of crazy we were in the same state. I wonder if we were ever in the same city at the same time and just missed each other.”
“I mean, we’ve lived in the same small city for how long and haven’t run into each other until recently.”
I chuckle. “True. California is massive. What made you move there?”
Mack covers her face with her hands and groans. “Don’t judge me, but I followed my then-boyfriend there. He wanted to make it as a musician, so I bartended to pay bills while he did… whatever he was doing.”
My stomach swoops and drops to my butt at her admission, and something like jealousy sours in my gut. Which is ridiculous. Of course she’s dated other people. We’re almost thirty. I’ve dated other people.
I hold up my hands. “No judgment from me. Did you like it there?”
“It was okay. Whenever I pictured living in California, I pictured the beach and endless sunny days, you know? Bakersfield wasn’t like that, obviously.
” An alarm on her phone rings, and she quickly clicks it off.
“I’m sorry, but I have to get going so I can get ready for work.
It was really nice to see you, Tal.” She gathers her trash, sucking down the last of her drink and standing to take it to the garbage.
I don’t want her to go. I want to keep talking, keep getting to know the Mack she is now.
I don’t think we’ve even scratched the surface of what she’s been up to in the last ten years, and I’m greedy for more knowledge.
I want to know when she left the church— why she left the church.
I want to know every story and detail about the ink on her skin.
I want to know how I can help make her life easier.
I want to put more smiles on her face and see if she laughs the same way she used to when we were teenagers—loud and uninhibited.
But I can’t beg her to stay, and I can’t ask her to call in sick. That would be selfish of me.
“Let me walk you to your car.” I hold the door open for her after she puts on her coat, and I follow her to the same blue Camry she was in when she got rear-ended.
She unlocks it but doesn’t get in just yet.
I open my arms, offering her a hug, even though I’m pretty sure she’s going to refuse it. She hesitates for a minute, an emotion I can’t place swirling in her green eyes before she tentatively steps forward and wraps her arms loosely around my waist.
With our height difference, my nose hovers over her hair. I don’t know what shampoo she uses, but she smells so good—citrusy and sweet. I have to resist burying my nose in her hair to inhale more of her. Then, I have to resist the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead.
Too soon, she steps back. “I’ll see you around, Tal.”
“We should hang out again soon. I’ll text you.”
With a tight nod, she ducks into her car. I step back as she starts it and pulls out of the parking space, waving as she drives away.
This isn’t the last time I’ll see her.
I’m not even remotely close to satisfied when it comes to all things Mackenzie Thorpe.