Chapter Twenty
My phone rang as I was lacing up my shoes on Sunday. I hesitated to answer since I’d come to the golf club to escape the world, but I knew it would blow back on me.
Scolding myself for not being the one to call months ago, I answered on the third ring.
“You’re a few days late,” was my brash greeting, knowing the other party could take the harassment.
I knew why he was calling; he was the only one who ever called this time of year. Not Susie or her husband, or their spawn. They only called when they needed something.
“I know. Jet lag is a real bitch. Cassandra and I were in Rome for two weeks. A third honeymoon kind of thing, living the good life.”
“Must be nice. Retirement, I mean. But you’ve been married for at least two decades, I think,” I told my longtime friend Teddy.
“You ever heard of the saying, ‘happy wife, happy life’? I live by it, bro. As for Rome—fuck, man, you could go for a year and it wouldn’t hurt your bottom line, Miller.”
I smiled to no one, sitting up and leaning against the locker. The golf club had a no-phones policy in the area, but no one was going to say a word to me.
Miller—not Mack or Millsy or Mackenzie—was what all my football teammates called me way back in undergraduate against the rolling hills of Virginia. I was the soccer player turned kicker, and they were the unlikely crew who accepted me. Most of us had lost touch other than holiday wishes and cards or occasional favors, but not Theodore and me.
“If I went a year without working, what would I do? Lose my mind?”
“I have some ideas.” I could almost see the ass smirking.
I closed my eyes and could feel my crow’s feet crinkling up from my grin. This guy had been one of the few people who’d broken through my hard exterior. Maybe one of three or four people aside from my grandmother…and the last person only happened recently.
“I don’t want to know about those ideas. Tell your wife,” I joked with him, laughing out loud to an empty room.
He finally cut to the chase for the call. “Happy birthday, man.”
He didn’t know there was someone in my world, and part of me didn’t want to let him in on it. Frances had taken up sacred space in my heart. So much so, it hurt thinking it might not last.
Teddy’s call also happened to be the one part of my birthday I didn’t share with her… In fact, I hadn’t spoken about Teddy to Frances at all. I didn’t know if it was his unspoken allegiance with Milly’s ghost or what. The pair haunted me regularly, and admitting all that to someone who’d captured my heart felt hard and heavy.
We’d already delved into the letters and the family history tying us together, and while she hadn’t seen Milly’s letter to me…I guess in the end, I didn’t want to disappoint Frances too.
If she knew how much I’d let my friend and my grandmother down, surely she’d think less of me.
Teddy knew I hated my birthday with a vengeance, yet he called me every single year. He would certainly get the significance of actually sharing the day with someone.
“How’s Arizona?”
“Changing the subject already? Tell me you didn’t sit in like a lonely piece of shit this year, sipping on Lagavulin?”
I’d have to tell him eventually, and better now than when it fell apart, right? “You’re not going to believe this, but I didn’t sit in. Well, I stayed in with a certain someone. Celebrated the occasion this year with a home-cooked meal, a half-decent scotch, and a beautiful woman.”
“No way. You’re shitting me. Here I was, feeling sorry for your ass, and you keep this from me.”
Sitting back up, I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a long breath. “I didn’t plan to commemorate the day. But this woman, the one I’ve been seeing, used Google to trick me. Planned a dinner…got a recipe, and all this crap I didn’t deserve.”
“Whoa, a woman you’re seeing and I didn’t know? Google? What? She didn’t know your birthday and surprised you? I remember a time that a b-day surprise went very poorly. Back up and start from the beginning…you know I’m your shrink.”
Teddy was somewhat right; he’d stepped in when I needed him most and wouldn’t admit I needed help. I could’ve told Teddy I was on my way to play eighteen holes, but he wouldn’t have cared, so I filled him in on Frances.
“What you’re telling me is this blond terror has seeped so far into your heart that she surprised you with a birthday celebration, cooking for you from some secret family recipe, all the while doing a deep dive into your family history, including your mom and some guy your grandmother was in love with?”
“That’s about it.”
Teddy banged some surface with his hand and yelled, “God damn, I knew it would happen. Last time a woman surprised you with your birthday, you went AWOL. Frances—winner, winner, chicken dinner. I gotta get out there and meet this woman. Good thing I retired.”
“I’ll keep you posted. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” I issued the warning, but I knew Teddy wouldn’t obey. After playing in the League, he’d coached football in Arizona before retiring and day-trading and investing in real estate. He’d done well for himself, and I’d always watched his success with pride.
“See you soon, birthday boy. I have to go tell Cassandra all this. She will not believe Mackenzie Miller is shacking up. Tell her we are heading to New York,” Teddy said boisterously, knocking me from an emotional moment.
“Ted—”
Of course he disconnected the call before I could argue.
“Like this?”
Later, Frances wiggled her ass against me while I helped her hold a seven iron.
I’d played eighteen on my lonesome. It was by design. I wasn’t up for the company or the competition; I needed time to think.
That was until Frances texted and all thoughts of being by myself flew south. I wanted to see her, so what did I do? I sent a car to get her and bring her out to Westchester to hit golf balls.
“Actually, more like this,” I said while helping Frances correct her posture. Repositioning her hands on the club, I shadowed her movements as she swung.
She might need some professional lessons, I thought, but I forced myself to not mention that her ball didn’t go very far.
“How about a drink?” Frances finally suggested, frustrated with her performance.
“Let’s go,” was all I said. “How was your day?” I asked her over my mule and her glass of cabernet.
“Sunday, so no work, as you know. And!” Her whole face lit up as she said the one-syllable word.
“And?” I inquired, needing to know what had the beautiful creature so excited.
“I made another recipe. Connie also talked me through a dessert she learned to make with Milly!”
Taking a slug of my mule, I waited to hear about the dessert, thinking I’d probably eaten it a million times and never known the significance.
“I’m not sure I did it any justice, but Connie said your grandma made a mean apple cake. Those were her words. She said she taught Milly how to make fruitcake. Can you imagine? And Milly taught her this apple cake.” I couldn’t resist my hand slipping over Frances’s fingers. “Fruitcake. Isn’t that crazy? Did she ever make it?”
My head shook. “No, I can’t say she ever made a fruitcake, but she did make apple cake. Twice a year. Always for the Jewish holidays and usually once more, around Thanksgiving.”
“It’s good. It may not be as dense as it should be, but I can give you a piece when you drop me off.”
“You perfected the soup, so I’m sure the cake is perfect.”
“You know what? I need to spend a few days with Connie and catalog all these recipes. Write them down, put them in a Word document, save them!”
The need to be closer to Frances overtook me and I leaned in and kissed her cheek, breathing in her scent. Today it was lilies mixed with excitement. I wanted it all for myself.
“Would that be okay? Me, making a keepsake of Milly’s recipes?”
“Of course. She was one of the better parts of my life. I’m not going to lie—I wish I’d known about your Paps and that part of her life. But for whatever reason, I didn’t.”
Frances took a sip of her wine and brought her hand to my cheek. “She was good to you, and I’m glad you had that. Your mom missed out on so much, and I’m not going to be like this mystery girl from your past trying to fix that—”
“That’s all she was…a girl,” I interrupted. “We were young, and I didn’t know anything about life, love, feelings, or shit. In fact, I spoke to an old friend today…”
Frances leaned back, eyeing me. “Her?”
“No, her name was Brittany and I have no idea where she is or what she’s done since the night we broke up during our junior year. It was an ugly breakup, but it’s irrelevant. What I didn’t tell you about my birthday was that my friend, Teddy, from college, calls every year.”
“He does? You said cigars and whiskey with friends… Is he one of them?” Thankfully, Frances was back in my personal space, her hand woven through mine, our drinks discarded.
“No. Teddy was my teammate in college. Big, daunting guy, who taught me about feelings. He caught on to my mommy issues right away and confronted me. Told me to deal with my emotions while he stood towering over me in the weight room. Turns out his mom slipped out in the middle of the night too, leaving him and his sister. In all the years since then, I haven’t talked much about my mom with anyone but him.”
This time, it was Frances who brought her lips to my cheek before she whispered, “I’m glad you had that, and now you have me.”
I didn’t ask—could I keep her?