40. Malcolm
Malcolm
As beautiful as Makenna looked tonight with her dress and long hair teasing me every second, my heart squeezes at the sight of her after she changes when we get home. She’s in her frog jammies again, and she’s pulled her hair up on her head.
“I didn’t want to play guitar with a dress on, so …” She shrugs.
“That’s perfect. I think it’s easier to sing with jammies on anyway.”
She snorts a wee laugh, and it’s so cute.
I’ve got the guitars out and checked the tuning. They are sitting waiting for us on the kitchen table. I step over to them, then extend my guitar to Makenna.
“Isn’t that one yours?”
“Aye. But I want you to use mine. I’ll use Rory’s.”
She smiles as if she sees that as the ridiculousness that it is but goes along anyway. “I’ll do my best to play it to your standards,” she jokes. She settles onto a chair, holding the guitar in place. She runs her fingers along the grain, studying the beautiful wood.
“I never thought I’d be jealous of a guitar,” I say.
She bursts out laughing. “Malcolm, that’s so weird.”
I join her laughter. “I never said I was completely un-weird.”
“I think it’s good to be at least a little weird.”
“That’s good to know. And I agree.” I settle into a chair with Rory’s guitar. “What’s one of your weird things?”
“You mean you haven’t noticed at least a dozen things already?” She starts finger picking a soft melody that immediately makes me want to cuddle up with her.
“I’ve found everything you do charming.”
Makenna rolls her eyes, dramatically. “Oh, sure. I bet I was incredibly charming at the hospital.”
“I’ve never seen anyone writhing in pain so charmingly.”
“Oh yes. I’m sure that’s true.”
“And coming off anesthesia. That was a special time as well.”
“Oh my gosh. Did I say anything? What did I say?”
“Well, for one, you called me Dr. Handsome. Which was nice to hear.”
“Oh my gosh.” She covers her face with a hand, keeping the other on the guitar.
“To be fair, I believe you thought you were whispering to Dr. Johnson. I barely heard it.”
“Because that makes it better.”
“Ah, don’t worry. You and Dr. Handsome kiss now, so I think things are really working out for that poor girl recovering from surgery.”
“Malcolm!”
I chuckle, lean over our guitars, and plant a big one on her bonnie lips.
Oh, I can’t get enough of her. Memories of kissing under the stars flash in my mind every time my lips touch hers.
Her change from timid to excited participation, her wee hum when I nibbled at her bottom lip, and how right it felt to have her in my arms.
“Let’s play,” I say, knowing I’ve got to do something to keep my hands off her.
We find we both know the Beatles classic Blackbird. We play and sing the melody together and it’s nothing short of magic. It’s fine, of course, if she doesn’t want to perform with me on Friday, but she’ll be doing Scotland a disservice if she doesn’t.
I’ll still like her though.
I like her more than I would have thought possible. I’ve known her … what? Twelve days? And here I sit, imagining nights like this filled with music and laughter. And one day, bairns to join our wee band.
I need to take a deep breath and slow down.
“Can we try playing one of the songs you played that night at the pub?” Makenna asks. “It was something like ‘Will you go lassie go.’”
“Aye. Wild Mountain Thyme. Your voice would be perfect for that song.”
I pull up the chords on my laptop and we begin. It takes some time, but eventually I stop singing and only play my guitar. The song sounds a bit odd with her American accent, but it’s bonnie, nonetheless.
“Can you follow me around playing and singing that?”
“All the time?” she asks, playing into my jest.
“Yes. Night and day.”
“That seems reasonable, sure.” She sighs. “I’m leaving in five days. Are we …?” She sighs again. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know. I like you. A lot. If that’s not abundantly clear.” I pause to grin at Makenna. She’s turned a lovely shade of red. “We only have a small amount of time to explore this, in person, but … I don't know about you, but this feels different to me. Special.”
“It feels special to me too. Logistically, I don’t know how this works. It’s obviously not simple, and I don’t want us to be setting ourselves up for heartbreak.”
I nod. This is something we both already know, but we don’t have time to live in selective ignorance about it, as much as I’d like to pretend she isn’t leaving in five days.
“I think we just have to take it one step at a time. You’ll leave, and we’ll talk often and do what we can to stay connected, then see if our relationship grows or, if in a wildly unlikely scenario, it fizzles out. If it grows, we’ll have some decisions to make.”
Makenna sighs and nods. I want to tell her that should we come to the point that someone needs to move, that I would move for her. I could make my home anywhere with the right woman. But I don’t want her to feel like she has to reciprocate.
“Want to play some more?”
Makenna nods, and the atmosphere lightens as the first notes of The Bonnie Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond fill the air.