Nesting Page 11

  “I’m— Wait a minute,” she said. “You are her?”

  “Her who?”

  “Her. Macy. Michael’s new girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, I’m her.” Macy recalled then that Michael had dated a woman named Grace not long before they started going out.

  Grace let out a nervous laugh. “This is weird.” She wheeled around and almost ran into Cam.

  Grace stopped and stood stock still when Cam blurted out, “You.”

  Macy looked at Cam. “Her?”

  Dorianne shook her head. “Does everyone but me know every freaking person in this town?”

  “Grace gave me a ride when I first got here,” Cam said.

  Macy remembered Cam telling her about a ride she’d accepted from a woman in town. Apparently she’d driven Cam everywhere except where she wanted to go.

  Grace cleared her throat. “How is your aunt, Cam?”

  “You’re Cam?” Dori seemed to fit the last piece into the puzzle. “Kenny’s new coworker hangs out with Macy and knows my half-sister?”

  Macy almost laughed, but the reminder of Grace’s rejection of Dori kept it lodged in her throat. “Cam, could you take J-man to the kids’ books?”

  Cam gave J-man a big smile. “C’mon, sport, let’s get while the getting’s good.”

  “Stay right with Cam, Jeremiah,” Macy called after them.

  Macy turned her attention back to Grace. She wanted to ask her who she thought she was, treating people the way she did, but Grace theatrically looked at her watch and announced that her break was over. And just like that, with a toss of her hair, she sashayed away.

  Smiling at Dorianne, Macy said, “This place is exhausting.”

  Dori laughed and twisted her wedding band around on her finger.

  It dawned on Macy that they were standing within feet of each other, and there was no violence, no cursing, no… anything. She was afraid to let this strange moment pass. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

  To her surprise, Dori nodded.

  It was more than a little awkward sitting across the table from Dori after all those years. “That woman’s your half-sister?” Macy asked.

  “Yeah. Can you believe it? I always knew I had a sister. I think I was born knowing it.”

  Macy remembered. Dori frequently commented how cool it would be if they were sisters. The thought had always made her queasy, and it wasn’t just the idea of being named Macy Mason. Young and confused, she hadn’t wanted to be Dori’s sister; she wanted to be her boyfriend.

  Now they talked about their jobs and people they once knew. Macy told her about her promotion at the accounting office and her sporadic night classes at Augusta State. She held Dori’s gaze briefly as she claimed, “I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”

  “I remember you wanted to be a veterinarian.”

  Macy stared into her coffee. “I was eight.”

  “A very smart eight.” Dori smiled.

  Dori’s mom didn’t think Macy was so smart, especially not when she convinced Dori that they should rescue all the neighborhood cats they could round up. Macy had no idea of the ruckus and the mess a dozen unfamiliar cats would create in Dori’s bedroom. Mrs. Mason never trusted her again after that, which was one reason they hid the comics at Macy’s house and played the secret hero games in Macy’s bedroom.

  She tried to imagine the quickened pulse and sweating palms that she’d felt for Dori back then. It didn’t happen. She thought about the rush of the hero saving the beauty, the scent of grape gum, the pretend kiss that always followed. Nothing. Instead, J-man’s term, even-steven, kept playing over and over in her head. She hated when words got stuck and forced her to think about what it meant that they wouldn’t go away. Even-steven. She fiddled with her coffee cup and did her best to distract herself.

  Dori fiddled, too, with her wedding band.

  “I’m sorry about your mom and Brian.”

  Dori nodded.

  “I was at the funeral.”

  “I know. I saw you. But you didn’t come say anything to me.”

  “I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

  “I didn’t.” Dori smiled. “But I wanted you to try, so I could tell you to go to hell.”

  Macy couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been on Dori. Her father had died when they were in the eighth grade. Then she lost both her mom and her brother soon after high school. It amazed Macy that Dori would want to love anyone else, let alone a child, after all that loss. But maybe that made more sense than the alternative of not having anyone.

  “Tell me about Michael.”

  “Well, he’s from the Midwest, went to medical school at MCG, and stayed in Augusta to open a family practice.”

  “How did you meet?” Dori asked.

  “At the Partridge Inn.”

  “He sounds like a great guy.”

  “He is, and J-man really likes him.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  Macy believed her. And she kept to herself her conviction that Michael could do so much better than her.

  Dorianne twisted her wedding ring again. “When we were little, I couldn’t believe you wanted to be my friend. Remember when we were in the second grade and you slugged John Dawson for saying the n-word? I thought you were all it. When you wanted to be friends, I was just crazy happy.”

  “But?” Macy studied the wall.

  “But then things got uncomfortable the older we got.”

  “Uncomfortable?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes I felt like you didn’t like me at all, like there was some big joke and I was the butt of it.”

  “That was never the case. There was never a joke, and I never not liked you.” She couldn’t tell Dori it was just how she tried to deal with the roller coaster of hormones and emotions she didn’t understand.

  “When you went out with Jack, it got even more uncomfortable. I kept imagining you two laughing about my crush on him, and I was terrified Jack would tell Kenny. It was just easier to steer clear of you two.”

  “I never told Jack anything about us or the comics. And I never understood why you pulled away like you did.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do.” Dori sighed and shifted away from the table. “And, well, we both know the death blow to our friendship.”

  “You and I were so far past being friends when—” Macy stopped. She would not say the words.

  “When you slept with Kenny.” Dori paused for emphasis. “That’s when I knew we were never really friends, that you’d never really liked me. I mean, how could you have, if you’d do that to me?”

  “I have no excuse, nothing logical anyway.”

  “Had you always faked being my friend?”

  Tears streaked Dori’s cheeks, and Macy knew she had thought a lot over the years about asking that question.

  “I never faked anything with you. I always liked you.” Macy looked away. “I always liked you too much.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Macy braced herself for Dori’s realization, for the disgust that would surely follow.

  “You liked me so much that you slept with my boyfriend?”

  “I liked you so much that it killed me when you got together with Kenny,” Macy said.

  “You were jealous?”

  “You were playing more than hero with him.” She’d hated it when Kenny would walk Dori to third period history, and she’d see them kiss before Dori would come in and sit two rows away, wearing the blushy glow that made Macy want to hurl her textbook against the ugly cinder block wall.

  “You could’ve had any guy. You already had Jack, why did you have to have Kenny, too?”

  “That’s just it. I didn’t have to have Kenny. I didn’t want to be with him as much as I wanted to be him.”

  “I guess I’m just not getting this.”

  And why should she? It had taken Macy years to finally get it. And lately she’d been wondering what would have happened if she’d
just moved her hand from between their mouths and kissed Dori, like she’d considered doing so many times.

  But what-ifs didn’t count. Besides, had things been different with Dori, Macy might not have ever been with Jack, and then she wouldn’t have her J-man. No outcome could possibly be better than her son.

  J-man came into the café with Cam. They went to the counter, and Cam got them each a bottle of juice.

  Dori wiped away the last of the dampness from beneath her eyes. “Jeremiah is getting so big.”

  “He is.”

  Macy waved them over. J-man leaned against her side, holding a book close to him. She put her arm around him and pulled him in for a hug. Macy had made a conscious effort not to skimp on physical contact, not to raise him on stiff, half-hugs like those she’d known as a kid.

  Cam leaned against the top of the chair between Macy and Dori and smiled awkwardly.

  “Now for a proper introduction. Cam Webber, meet Dorianne Brewer.”

  Cam extended her hand. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

  Dori smiled and shook her hand. “Kenny’s not giving you too hard of a time, is he?”

  “Of course he is,” Cam teased. “That’s Kenny.”

  She laughed. “Yes, that is Kenny.”

  Macy motioned to Cam. “Sit with us.”

  Holding the black thumbnail she was sure to lose out of the way, Cam pulled the chair out.

  Dori winced. “Kenny told me about your run-in with the pneumatic press.”

  Macy knew Cam was embarrassed about the incident and upset with herself for not responding better. She’d sheepishly told Macy about how she panicked and forgot she could just take her foot off the pedal and it would release itself. She felt like an idiot just standing there, trying not to scream as she asked Kenny if he had a minute, if he could come give her a hand.

  “A lot of people don’t think right when they’re in that position. Look at Kenny. He’s been at it for years, and even he has panicked.”

  Cam gawked at Dorianne. “Kenny forgot to take his foot off the pedal?”

  Dori laughed. “Even worse. He pulled away with it still clamped down on his finger. Left a chunk of himself behind, too.”

  “Yuck,” Jeremiah said, finally distracted from his book.

  “Kenny didn’t tell me about that,” Cam said.

  Macy smiled at how Dori seemed to relish telling tales about her husband.

  “So, Kenny is in the restroom running cold water over his finger,” Dori said. “Blood’s all over the sink, and Tank comes in with a screwdriver, waving it around. He says, ‘Dude, you want this back?’ and there’s a chunk of skin dangling from the end of the screwdriver.”

  “Yuck,” Jeremiah repeated.

  Macy could tell by his enthusiasm that he was actually enjoying the theatrics.

  Dori laughed. “I’m surprised Tank or Eddie didn’t tell you about that.”

  “They’d already left for the day. It was just me, Kenny, and Gary. Of course, Gary got all mad. You’d think I’d caught his thumb in the press.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to Goof—I mean to Gary,” Dori said.

  “Mama, can we go now so I can play with Bella at Grandma’s?”

  Even-steven. Even-steven.

  Macy checked her watch. “Yeah, we need to get going.” She looked at J-man’s book, a picture book of backyard birds. “That’s your final choice?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell Aunt Dorianne goodbye.”

  “Bye.” He leaned a little closer to her. “I’ll tell Bella you said hi.”

  “Thank you, Jeremiah.”

  Macy straightened J-man’s collar. “Can you head toward the cash register? I’ll be right there.”

  As he took off, Cam said to Dorianne, “It was nice meeting you,” and followed him.

  “This has been, well, nice.” Macy waited a second, giving Dori a chance to respond, then went on. “To be honest with you, I expected a shouting match if we ever spoke again.”

  Dori leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “I guess I’m too tired for shouting.” She sighed. “And yes, this has been nice.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Macy went to meet J-man and Cam. The words ricocheted through her mind. Even-steven, even-steven.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Molting

  “The chalk company might have took my granddaddy’s land, but I got me a good job at one of the mines.”

  Turning away from the saw, Cam looked at Gary, unsure whether Gary was talking to her.

  He kept on. “I thought I was finally getting my due, but the chalk people got the last word. They filled my lungs and veins with silica and took away the best job I ever had.”

  Cam just stared at him. That was the most Gary had said to her since she’d started working at the shop.

  “Me and Kenny used to be friends. That was before he gave up fishing for football and girls,” Gary said.

  Cam glanced toward Kenny on the other side of the shop. She had to admit she was curious about Gary’s claim. She thought about her conversation with Macy, how she’d said Russ took up for Gary. That day Macy hadn’t said anything about Gary and Kenny ever being friends.

  “Same old story,” Gary muttered. “Use me until something better comes along.”

  Staring at Gary’s heavy brow, made weightier by his scowl, Cam felt a pang of guilt for her next thought. The ‘something better to come along’ was called evolution. She turned away so Gary wouldn’t see her smile as her guilt melted into amusement. Her friends in Maryland, Ryan and Travis, would have appreciated the humor in that. Sometimes she missed the guys—and girls, even Courtney—but she didn’t give any real thought to going back.

  Cam couldn’t imagine moving away from Macy. She smiled as she anticipated the cookout. She was looking forward to spending more time with Macy, especially since Michael would be busy playing host and grilling the food. It was great that Michael was letting her stay with him, but Cam preferred it when she didn’t have to share Macy.

  When she turned back, Gary had come up behind her. She didn’t like Gary so close to her, especially with a hammer in his hand.

  “I deserve better than this crap,” Gary said.

  Cam looked around. Kenny was helping Tank with one of the rush jobs that had required them to work the last couple of weekends. Cam faced Gary. If the freak was going to pummel her with a hammer, she wanted to see it coming so she could at least try to dodge it.

  “I should have gotten my granddaddy’s land, then I wouldn’t be stuck working here with you punks. But the chalk company—”

  “Hey, Cam, quit screwing around, and let’s get going.”

  Thank God for Kenny, Cam thought. Even driving with Kenny was better than listening to Gary go on and on. Besides, the sooner they got out of there, the sooner they’d get to the cookout. And it wasn’t just the prospect of spending time with Macy that had her psyched. Sharon was going to be there, too.

  Kenny pushed his old Maverick pretty hard. A few times Cam could have sworn she heard the engine moan when Kenny started out after a full stop. There wasn’t much Cam knew about cars, but that sound didn’t seem like a bad one. It just sounded tired.

  “Piece of junk, huh?” Kenny asked.

  Cam shrugged, thinking about how much she wanted her own vehicle. “It’s better than what I have.”

  “You gonna get you something?”

  “Once I get more money saved.”

  “There’s a guy I know selling his old pickup truck. You might could afford that.”

  “Yeah, I might could.” She tried out Kenny’s dialect. The words felt wrong in her mouth, like getting to the bottom of hot chocolate and finding it much too thick.

  Kenny made a left turn and headed a different way to Michael’s than Cam was used to. Even though she knew there were several ways to get from any point A to any point B in Augusta, it still caught her by surprise.

  To the right, a swath of land had just bee
n cleared. Huge piles of brush and stumps smoldered in the middle. Beyond that was Phase I of the same development, where mammoth houses huddled close to one another. The homes dwarfed newly planted Bradford pears and Japanese maples, which were mere twigs sticking out of fresh green sod.

  Across the street was a nursery. Cam imagined they’d be plenty busy as new homeowners rushed to put their thumbprints on their yards. Now that Cam knew where the nursery was, she had every intention of checking it out herself.

  As they passed groupings of bushes and saplings for sale, Cam tried to figure out what each was. She liked having the luxury of noticing things around her. Well, until it got to be the same-old, same-old. Baltimore had become that way. She’d lost interest and no longer noticed. And that got her thinking. If she wasn’t driving, and she wasn’t paying attention, then what good was she?

  At Michael’s, they parked at the curb between a Beemer and a Benz. Cam guessed that the cars belonged to Michael’s friends. She didn’t see Sharon’s Miata next door in her driveway. Maybe she’d made a run to the store.

  Voices drifted from the backyard, and Cam hoped no one was stepping in her flowerbeds. She couldn’t wait to hear what Sharon would say about what she’d done in the back. She’d started working in Michael’s yard to give Sharon the opportunity to walk over and say hello or even just wave through her car window. Sharon didn’t do either, but before Cam knew it, she had Michael’s yard looking so good that sticking with it became a matter of pride.

  Kenny walked around to the back of the house where Dorianne and the other guests were gathered. Cam went in through the front door, jumped in the shower, and changed into a clean shirt and cargo pants before joining the party.

  Showered and sawdust-free, she grabbed an orange soda from the fridge. A makeshift bar was set up on the kitchen counter. She eyed the rum and wondered whether it might taste good with her soda.

  She went out the back door, and the sight of Macy squatting down in front of Jeremiah stopped her in her tracks. Macy was telling her son something as he nodded, obviously only half paying attention. She leaned toward him, kissed his forehead, and cut him loose. She hadn’t even finished straightening up before he was off playing with his dog.