Chapter 7
Mac left the Wayfarer with a short list of minor repairs that needed to be made.
A leaking window, a strange hum in the exhaust vent in the kitchen, a rough spot on the bar that had caught a lady’s sweater.
He’d send Riley and Finn over there tomorrow to deal with it.
Nothing they couldn’t handle, he thought as he headed back toward the Curtis place, a Gothic-style house his team was renovating ahead of a family wedding in October.
Which meant they were under the gun. Again. Always.
These days, he felt like he lived his whole life under the gun, especially at this time of year.
But he’d promised Maddie and his parents and the rest of his family that he’d take a gigantic chill pill after he’d collapsed and scared the hell out of them.
He could still recall coming to and seeing Maddie’s sweet face, awash in tears and panic that he’d caused.
He hated when she cried, especially over him.
Thankfully, it had “only” been an anxiety attack, like the one he’d had several years ago when he’d still lived in Miami. Back then, his life had been nothing but stress. Now he had Maddie and their family and a million reasons to take care of himself.
In keeping with the promises he’d made to her and his other loved ones, Mac pulled his truck off the road at the Southeast Light and parked in a spot with an awesome view of the lighthouse and the coast. He opened the window to let in the warm late-spring air and shut off the engine.
His to-do list had a million things on it that needed his attention, but he took a few minutes to slow down, decompress and just breathe.
Closing his eyes, he focused on breathing the way he’d learned from a meditation video he’d watched on YouTube at Maddie’s request. She’d read about how meditation could slow the mind and heal the body, so she’d encouraged him to give it a try.
He hated that his stress was causing more for her as she carried their twins.
They just had to get through the summer and the delivery of the twins in September, and then things would get somewhat back to “normal,” or whatever that would look like with five children, aged six and under.
It was better for his anxiety if he didn’t think too much about what it would be like when they had five children.
Three were killing them. What in the world would five be like?
He and Maddie were due to meet later that afternoon with an au pair who’d come highly recommended by the agency they’d reached out to after Maddie had been put on bed rest. She was exhausted all the time, could never seem to get enough sleep, even now that she was on bed rest. Their mothers, fathers, sisters, sisters-in-law and friends had been pitching in to help with the kids now that Maddie had been ordered to stay off her feet, but that situation wasn’t sustainable long term.
Mac had his hopes pinned on the au pair, a young woman named Kelsey, who’d be on the three thirty boat.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about living on a remote island, especially in the winter.
Mac hoped he and Maddie could convince her to take them on.
He’d arranged for her to have the apartment that Kara Torrington had once occupied at a property near the marina and was prepared to meet her salary requirements plus a bonus after the first year if she agreed to come to work for them.
Desperate times.
Breathe, Mac. Just breathe. He could hear Maddie’s voice in his head, reminding him to stay calm, not to let the stress get the better of him the way it had before he collapsed and scared her—and himself—enough that he was heeding the warnings Dr. David had laid on him that day.
This time, it’d been anxiety, David had said.
The next time, it might be a heart attack.
Mac had far too much to live for to allow himself to let stress get the better of him, so he was determined to combat it every way he possibly could.
The idea of not being around to watch his kids grow up was unfathomable to him.
His phone chimed with a text from Maddie. He’d set up a special chime and ring tone so he’d never miss a call or text from her.
Blaine and Tiffany want to bring dinner over tonight and invite the family. Are you up for that?
He wasn’t, really, but he knew how much she missed getting out and being with their wide circle of friends and family since her activity had been restricted. Sure, sounds good. I’ll be home with Kelsey after the 3:30 boat lands. Fingers crossed.
Fingers and toes. Are you breathing?
Funny enough, I just took a break to do some extra breathing.
Good! Everything is fine and everything is going to be fine.
Keep reminding me.
Any time you need to hear it.
Love you.
Love you more.
Not possible.
For once, she let him have the last word and left him with a smile on his face as he contemplated the many ways his glass was more than half full.
Yes, he had a lot on his shoulders, but he also had much to be thankful for, including his amazing, beautiful, courageous wife, three healthy children and two more on the way.
His parents were healthy, his brothers and sisters were happy and so were his cousins. Everything was fine.
Keep telling yourself that, Mac. Maybe one of these days, he’d actually believe it.
Jordan slept the day away and awoke late that afternoon feeling somewhat back to normal.
Only a residual ache in her chest remained to remind her of yet another brush with death.
Her grandmother used to tell her she was like a cat with nine lives.
She’d used up most of them in the first twenty years of her life and had cashed in another chip last night.
To hear that she’d been “barely breathing” when Mason arrived was terrifying.
What if he hadn’t seen the flames? She’d probably be dead.
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks when it registered with her that she’d had a very close call, perhaps the closest yet in a life full of breathing and other emergencies.
She wiped away tears that made her feel weak and stupid for being so emotional, but near-death experiences tended to have that effect on people.
Jordan couldn’t remember much about the events of last night, but she distinctly remembered the feel of Mason’s lips on hers and how she’d tried to get closer to him. Totally mortifying! The man had been saving her life, and she reacted that way?
It was all so confusing.
And in the clinic, he’d been so nice as well as funny, helpful and generous about getting food for both of them, even though he’d been injured, too.
She’d liked talking to him.
There. She’d admitted it and was just as quickly back to confused.
A few short months after a disastrous end to a disastrous marriage, the last thing she needed to be thinking about was the sexy fireman who’d rescued her.
At least he was nothing like Brendan, who was half Mason’s size and pale as a ghost most of the time.
Mason, by contrast, was one of the tallest guys she’d ever met and clearly took good care of himself, if his bulging biceps were any indication of what the rest of him looked like.
Not to mention, he already had the equivalent of a late-summer tan and warm, kind eyes that had drawn her right in during their time together at the clinic.
After being married to Brendan, the only man she’d ever even dated, she was so starved for kindness, she’d overreacted to a man who was just doing his job by hanging with her while the clinic staff was busy. It would be just like her to read more into it than it warranted.
She’d had a health crisis.
He’d done his job.
End of story.
Jordan sat up and took a minute to get her bearings before going into the bathroom that adjoined her room to shower.
She stood under the hot water for a long time and washed her hair twice, hoping to rinse away the stink of smoke.
After conditioning her hair and washing up, she got out of the shower and had to sit for a minute on the closed lid of the toilet.
If her past track record was any indication, the attack would leave her feeling depleted for the next few days.
Determined to soldier through, Jordan dried her hair and applied some mascara that made her feel human, even when she wasn’t going anywhere.
It was a habit she’d fallen into as a teen.
“Mascara before coffee” was her mantra. And yes, she knew it was a silly mantra, but a girl had her needs, and mascara was one of Jordan’s.
It was on her to-do list to find real purpose in life, something that didn’t revolve around stupid things like mascara and social media and vanity and celebrity and all the things she’d once embraced before they turned to shit along with her marriage.
She’d loved doing her show and connecting with fans.
If only that was all there was to it, she would’ve done it forever.
But the downside of celebrity was something no one could imagine until they’d experienced it for themselves.
Now that she’d had firsthand experience with the downside thanks to her husband’s outraged and crazy fans, she wanted nothing more to do with any of it.
Gigi, who had replaced Nikki as her manager—not that Nik could be replaced—had been badgering her to make some decisions about what was next.
Ironically, the interest in her had gone way up after the hotel room incident, but that was just further proof of how depraved the celebrity lifestyle could be.
They wanted her more because her celebrity husband had put her in the hospital?
Disgusting.
No, after five years of life in the fast lane, it was time to find some other more productive use of her time than chasing Twitter and Instagram followers and living her life “out loud” online.
Since she’d gone “dark” after the incident in Charlotte, her fans had been hungry for updates.
She planned to give them one once she figured out her life.