Playing with Fire (20 page)

“Hi, sweetie.”

Mrs. Severson had just gotten back into town from a conference. Macey and her mom had been living under the same roof for seven days, but they’d hardly had a chance to catch up. Macey had kicked into high gear with her nonprofit foundation, working on grant proposals and soliciting support from local businesspeople during daytime hours. Her mom had been working nights because they’d had a manager quit and hadn’t yet replaced him. This was the first time the three of them had had a chance to meet and catch up.

Macey slid in next to her mother and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you, stranger.”

“You should slow down a bit,” her mom said.

“Me?” She chuckled. “Hello, Pot. I’m Kettle. A much younger kettle than you, I might add.”

“I’m fifty-one, my dear. Not quite ready to hang it up yet.”

“As long as you take care of yourself,” Macey said, studying the newish wrinkles on her mom’s face up close.

“I’m doing great, honey. Quit worrying about me.”

“You look good,” she declared, but she’d never fully relax and believe the cancer wouldn’t be back. The odds were low—it’d been almost fifteen years—but Macey wasn’t willing to let her guard down.

“You look tired yourself,” her mom replied.

Mrs. Severson perused Macey with a critical eye from across the small table. “You’re right, Cheryl. She does. The tan covers it up from a distance, but, Macey, honey, you don’t look so hot.”

“Gee, thanks.” She took a sip of the ice water in front of her. “I’ve been working my tail off all week, thank you.”

“How’s that going?” Derek’s mom asked.

“Slower than I’d like, but I’m getting some substantial donations.” She’d managed to secure about a third of her initial goal this past week, thanks in large part to one of her late father’s friends, who’d given generously. She’d been successful with a handful of others as well, but on a smaller scale.

A waiter showed up at their table to take Macey’s drink order. She noticed both women had glasses of red wine. “Could you have the bartender make me a custom drink?”

“If you can tell me what’s in it, she can try. She’s good,” the waiter said.

“Better than good, Alberto. Deirdre’s the best around.” Mrs. Severson glanced toward the bar and raised her wineglass in salute when she caught the bartender’s eye.

Macey asked to borrow Alberto’s pen and wrote the ingredients and proportions on a cocktail napkin. She handed it to the waiter, who read the list to himself.

“Interesting concoction,” he said.

“It’s called a Sandblaster. The specialty drink of my favorite bar on San Amaro Island.”

“Derek’s bar,” Mrs. Severson said as the waiter took the order to Deirdre.

“The Shell Shack,” Macey agreed. “All the tourists have to try a ’Blaster.”

“Is the bar doing okay?” Mrs. S. asked.

Macey nodded. “Really well, actually.”

“You must’ve helped that along quite a bit. I can’t believe Derek was up for it in the state he’s been in.”

“He’s not exactly a businessman,” Macey said, smiling wistfully as she remembered some of their discussions and arguments about the changes she’d implemented, including coming up with the now-famous Sandblaster.

“How’s he doing?” her mom asked.

The question of the hour, and one that Macey wasn’t sure she could answer. After more than a month together, she still wasn’t sure how much he’d recovered or whether her presence had hurt or helped. “He needs to be fighting fires.”

That much she was certain of.

“I can understand his hesitancy,” her mom said.

“I can, too,” Macey replied, “but he needs firefighting.”

“You think he’ll come back here?” Mrs. S. asked, startled.

Macey shook her head. “I don’t know if he ever will. But he might join the fire department down there. He took a tour of the station before I left.”

“Oh, Macey, that’s fantastic!” she said. “You must’ve been such a help to him.”

“Uh, no. I wish. I think I just made things worse.”

“No, honey. There’s no way you could make them worse,” Mrs. Severson said. “You didn’t see him before he left town.”

Macey’s mom nodded sympathetically. “I only saw him at the funeral, but he was like a robot. Just a body going through the motions.”

“It was heartbreaking.” Mrs. Severson gazed off into space, looking as if she could break down in tears any second. “You don’t think he’s doing any better now?” Macey wished she could tell her Derek was back to his old self. She seriously wished he was, worried mother or not.

Alberto set her drink in front of her. “Deirdre would like to know if she came close with this.”

Macey took a long sip through her straw and closed her eyes. The island and everything she loved about it—the little shack bar, the waves, the smell of the sea, Derek—it all came back to her with the single taste.

“Perfect,” she said. “She
is
the best.”

Alberto nodded in satisfaction. He took their lunch orders and then left the three women alone.

“Derek’s made a little progress,” Macey said after an other sip. “Andie said he never smiled or laughed before I came, but I think that changed. I forced him to do some touristy things with me.”

“Bless your heart,” Mrs. S. said.

Macey smiled sadly, remembering the dolphin cruise and how Derek had seemed to come alive for a couple of hours. Even though everything had since collapsed between them, the memories of that day were still magical.

“Macey, honey, what’s going on? There’s something you’re not telling us. What’s wrong with my son? Is it worse than I’m aware of?”

How did she tell her mom and Derek’s what had happened…without actually spelling it out? “He’s going to be okay,” she said finally. “But I don’t think he and I are still friends.”

“What?” her mother said in shock. “You two have been close for so long. I don’t believe for a minute that’ll change.”

Mrs. Severson was studying her critically. “What happened, honey?”

Macey squirmed. If she could disappear she would right now, gladly. “I…said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“Did you get fed up with him?” her mom asked. “Angry? Frustrated? Is that what happened?”

“Well…that happened plenty, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“He found out how you feel about him,” Mrs. Severson guessed.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Macey asked, suddenly sweating, even though the restaurant was well air-conditioned.

Derek’s mom put her hand over Macey’s on the tabletop. “I know how much you care about him. We’ve known for years,” she admitted, glancing at Cheryl for backup.

“Since you two were little kids we’ve hoped that someday you’d end up together,” her mom said.

“It started out as a selfish thing. We thought it would be neat to be in-laws of sorts. But then when you hit high school and had such a crush on Derek…”

Macey could have died of embarrassment. “What makes you think I had a crush on him?”

“Oh, honey, it was easy to see,” Mrs. Severson said. “Of course, we were watching for it.”

“Did Derek know?” she asked, terrified. If he’d known all this time that she was half in love with him… She couldn’t stand to think about it.

But Mrs. S. was shaking her head. “That boy is my son and I love him like nothing else, but he
is
a male. He was oblivious, I’m quite certain.”

Macey leaned against the back of the booth. Thank goodness.

“But now he knows,” his mom continued, not really phrasing it as a question.

“I told him—” She broke off and stared at the mahogany tabletop and the deep green cloth napkin in front of her. “I’m so embarrassed. I said the
L
word.”

Her mom put her hand on Macey’s thigh and patted it.

“This is good,” Derek’s mom said, nodding slowly, thoughtfully.

“How much have you had to drink?” Macey asked her, glancing around for an empty wine bottle. This was anything
but
good.

“Something has to wake him up, and it sounds like you did that.”

“No. All I did was scare him away.”

“He didn’t take your declaration well, huh?” Mrs. Severson asked.

“He took off. I never saw him again. That’s why I came home early.”

Both women nodded and she was thankful they didn’t try to tell her she’d done the wrong thing.

“Some space might be wise,” her mom said.

“He was no doubt surprised,” his mom added.

“You guys don’t get it, do you? I ruined it. He’s still mourning Julie. He doesn’t want anyone else and I just suffocated him by letting him know how I feel.”

“Did you ask him if he loves you?”

“No way.” That was the one thing she’d done right…. She’d let it go as soon as she’d, well, let it go. “The thing is the timing has never been right for us, and it never will be. I picked the worst possible moment to tell him.”

Mrs. Severson shook her head adamantly. “I disagree, Macey. I think, at long last, the timing was exactly right. I liked Julie just fine and I wish like the dickens it hadn’t ended like it did. But he’s still alive, whether he’s figured that out or not. He’s got his whole life ahead of him. I just know he cares deeply for you. It may take him some time to give himself permission to move on, but when he does, I hope you’re still there for him.”

“He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“Not in words.”

Nobody spoke, and the sounds of clinking dishes and conversation around them faded to nothing for Macey. When she turned her head toward her mother, she saw her head shaking slowly, as if Macey was the biggest disappointment ever. Macey looked over at Mrs. Severson, whose expression was unreadable.

“What?” Macey demanded.

There was a long hesitation before her mother spoke. “Didn’t you go to the ends of the earth to become more confident, Macey?”

“You mean Thailand?” The question came from left field and Macey struggled to follow her mom’s train of thought.

“Thailand. Yes. You told me you joined the Peace Corps, in part, to become more aggressive, less passive.”

“Yeah….”

Her mom’s eyes widened momentarily, as if to say,
Well?
Macey slowly grasped her meaning.

“You think I need to be more aggressive with Derek.”

She’d
slept
with him. She couldn’t be much more aggressive than that, could she?

“If you’re comfortable leaving it where it is, then leave it. If you think you’ve done everything you can, then by all means, move on, my dear.”

Alberto approached and set up a stand to put his large round tray on. Macey hardly noticed as he placed their meals in front of them.

She hadn’t done everything she could where Derek was concerned. She’d thought she’d done more than she should, and because she was embarrassed, she’d taken off. Run away again. Been completely passive when it came to the single most important thing in her life.

“Macey, honey?” his mom said. “You okay?”

She shook her head. “I’m not comfortable leaving it where it is, actually. I have other things to tell him. I didn’t say much of anything.” She picked up her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “You can have my sandwich for dinner tonight, Mom. I have something to take care of.”

She slid out of the booth and bent to hug the other two.

“That’s my girl,” her mom said. “Call when you get to San Amaro, please. Be safe.”

“Go get ’im,” Mrs. S. said with touching determination.

Macey didn’t know if she would “get him” at all, but she’d never been more sure in her life of one thing, and that was that she had to lay it all on the line and see what happened.

If he didn’t have feelings for her, if he didn’t want her in his life, then Derek was going to have to tell her to her face.

The mugginess of the bar was getting to him. Sweat coated his body, even though outside was anything but balmy. It seemed as if oxygen was getting hard to come by in here.

“I’ll be back later,” he called out to Andie, who was behind the bar doing the
New York Times
crossword puzzle.

Derek left the shelter of the building and welcomed the sting of rain pelting him. It was easier to breathe out here, but something inside still clawed at him, drove him to do…something.

The beach was deserted as far as he could see. It took only seconds to become thoroughly drenched, but he couldn’t care less. He headed down the concrete stairs to the sand and took off running toward the south.

The Shell Shack was closer to the north end of town and the developed part of the island. He’d had no intention of running all the way to the southern tip, but once he started, once his lungs began crying for relief, he didn’t want to stop. The pain gave him something to think about besides the jumble in his brain.

His leg muscles shook as he ran past the fire station without a glance. He could see the southern end, made of a natural rocky pier, from here, and he knew he had to keep going until he got there. Once he reached it, he made his way over the slippery rocks, wet from the rain and splashing waves, to the very tip.

It was wild out here. Intense. The wind whipped him, and water crashed over the rocks just below. One good wave could easily drench the rock he sat on and wash him into the rough water.

Thunder clapped and lightning ripped through the evening sky. Normally the sun would still be shining, but the clouds were heavy and dark gray.

It was dangerous as hell out here. Derek knew that and didn’t give a damn.

He briefly thought about what would happen if he was washed into the turbulent water. He’d likely be thrown against the rocks and die of a head injury…. How would Macey react if something happened to him?

He believed her when she’d said she loved him. He didn’t understand why she felt that way, but she wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.

Macey would experience the same pain he’d endured when Julie had died, he suddenly realized. It nearly bowled him over. He didn’t ever want her to go through that. Especially not for him.
God.

If he got hit by a bus or washed against rocks, it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference to Julie.

The truth hit him like a boulder to the head.

He was letting his life pass him by because of some misguided loyalty to Julie, but there was nothing left of Julie except memories. Loving Macey wouldn’t destroy those memories. Nothing could destroy them.

The woman he’d loved, though, was gone.

Without a doubt, Julie would never want him to retreat from life, from Macey, out of some crazy concern for
her.
If their positions were reversed, he’d want Julie to go on. Get over him. Remember him and their good times, sure, but he would never expect her to live like a nun and sacrifice love. He’d want her to find happiness.

He stood up on the slippery rock, bracing himself against the wind. Goddammit, what had he done?

The wind gusted and he lost his footing. He threw his left leg out to a rock nearby, but it didn’t stop his fall. He landed on his ass and a sharp edge dug into his lower back. His head hit another boulder, sending pain slashing through his skull. Derek thought for a minute he was going to die, but he was still conscious and the pain gradually subsided somewhat. He was still on the rocks, and damn lucky he hadn’t ended up in the drink. Yet. As he eased himself to a sitting position, the gravity of his position finally hit him. He needed to get off this jetty while he could.

He had to talk to Macey, to see if they had a chance.

Derek rolled over and started crawling, making his way across the treacherous rocks toward the relative safety of the wave-beaten shore. The jetty was about a hundred feet long, which hadn’t seemed like much on the way out here. Now it stretched in front of him like a hundred miles.

The rain pelted his back and dripped down his face so that he could barely see what he was doing. As long as the rocks stretched in front of him, he figured he hadn’t fallen into the gulf yet. He was doing okay.

He’d glanced back toward the tip, and realized he was only halfway to shore when the sounds of a siren reached him. A fire truck. His pulse quickened, an involuntary reaction, and he wondered what battle the guys were about to face.

Sixty seconds later, the wind carried a voice to him. “Stay where you are, sir. We’re on our way.” What the…?

Derek wiped the water out of his eyes and squinted toward where the jetty met the shore. Holy hell. Three men were there, weighed down by all kinds of equipment. Firefighters. The rig was pulled up along the curb of the road that wound almost all the way down to the jetty.

It took Derek several long seconds to understand
he
was the one they were yelling at. They were here to rescue
him.

He didn’t need to be rescued, dammit. He was one of them. A rescuer. Just like that, another piece of his life puzzle fitted into place.

He pulled himself up on a particularly smooth rock. “I’m okay!” he yelled. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Or ten. Whatever. He was not going to let those guys climb out here on his behalf. Talk about humiliating.

He progressed a few feet, then raised his head again. “I’m a firefighter!” he called out to them. “I can make it.”

He pushed himself to make faster progress. He was three-quarters of the way there now. He checked behind him again.

“Derek? Is that you?”

He couldn’t recognize the man standing about ten feet out from the beach, not from this distance, with the rain coming down so hard. But he did know that voice.

“Evan. Stay there, man. I’m fine.”

He kept going, ignoring the pain that centered in his head and ricocheted out into every part of his body. Soon he was close enough to hear Evan talking into his radio, although he couldn’t understand what he was saying. It was undoubtedly best that way. He was sure they thought he was out of his mind.

“What the hell are you doing?” Evan asked when Derek was only a few feet away. The firefighter made his way toward him and grabbed his arm. “Can you stand up? Are you injured?”

“I’m fine,” Derek said, and he pulled himself to his feet to appease Evan. Never mind that he couldn’t have done it without someone to grab onto. “How did you guys know I was out there?”

“Saw some guy sprint by an hour ago and didn’t think too much of it until we had a report of a lunatic out on the edge of the jetty, getting ready to jump.”

“I wasn’t about to jump. I may be crazy but I didn’t want to kill myself.”

“Could’ve goddamn fooled me,” Evan muttered. “Scott is going to check you over. I don’t care what you say.”

They’d reached the end of the rocks at last, and together they climbed down to the stability of the sand. Clay and Captain Mendoza stood there watching him, presumably wondering what was wrong with him.

“Hey,” Derek said, “sorry to concern you guys. Stupid move on my part.”

“Do you have any injuries?” the captain asked him.

“Evan says he’s going to sic the paramedic on me, so I might as well tell you I whacked my head on the rocks. Didn’t lose consciousness. I feel fine.” A small lie, but they didn’t need to know his head felt as if it was split open. “I hope I haven’t blown my chances for a job.”

“We’re going to get your head checked out before I make any promises,” the captain said gravely. “If you’ve got any sense left, I imagine we’ll take you.”

Derek might have temporarily lost his mind, but he was as sure as he’d ever been about anything that he was ready to get back to work. He could pass any test the psychologists threw at him. The only thing left to settle was Macey, and whether she’d take him back or not.