Page 59 of My Dearest Mackenzie

“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?

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Frances cocked her head and nervously twisted a strand of hair while asking me.

My hand jutted out and stilled her fingers—I hated seeing her unnerved. Over the last two months, I’d noticed it wasn’t often. But when it occurred, it did something to me. Occasionally, she appeared to have to work up a lot of nerve. “Does that mean you are free?”

It was the Monday before the holiday. We were sitting at my breakfast bar, each drinking a coffee, and I was returning a few emails.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t answer a question with a question, Mr. Miller. Do I need to ask Corey?”

“Please don’t. He’ll try to get me to go to some big formal turkey dinner at a boutique hotel, the one he’s been talking about nonstop. No, thank you.”

I knew Frances had been struggling with the holiday; her parents had invited her, but she hadn’t said yes or no. Yesterday, she came over after I got home from a mall scouting trip in Minnesota, and we’d ordered sushi takeout and watched a movie. It had been easy, but clearly we hadn’t discussed much.

“I am free,” Frances said to me, “but no obligation. I was wondering…”

“You know I’m free and I want to be with you, which is quickly becoming my favorite thing to do.” I gathered her close and kissed her cheek.

“Other than work,” Frances teased.

“I have to pay bills.”

“Yes, I can see you’re struggling.”

I loved how Frances took in stride my need to be the best, to do better than generations before me, and be as successful as possible. I leaned in and kissed her cheek again, inhaling her, our latest scent lingering on her neck. Another tidbit I adored—Frances had started using all Silky’s products.

I moved on with the conversation, tabling my feelings. “Does this mean you told your parents no?” Sitting back and picking up my mug, I gave her time to answer.

“I did. Thanks to not working and you being away and, oh—I forgot to say Rachel is dating some new guy. Anyway, I had all weekend to think about it, and I decided it was a very firm no. I called them and explained my feelings. They denied picking sides with Jeremy but were going to die on the hill that I should be more than thrilled with my settlement. I think they’re mad I didn’t give them anything financially…I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going, and I’m available.”

“Good. Can I let my house manager order a dinner for us here? I’d love to go to the Hamptons, but I need to be near the office with Black Friday. Though I don’t have to go in unless needed…”

That was another change over the last two months. I had much more arranged, and fewer people around doing tasks, like making coffee. Frances and I deserved privacy, so the cleaning and housekeeping staff came in during the day and set up the kitchen for the following morning.

“That’s fine with me. I like our little holidays.”

“I do too,” I said, standing and pulling Frances into my arms, kissing the top of her head.

We’d celebrated the Jewish New Year that way—a small private dinner for two, and remembering Milly. Of course Frances made the apple cake, and it was more than perfect. The exact right density, and this prompted her to solidify her plans to put together a cookbook with Connie.

With emotions swirling, I’d shown Frances my letter that evening, and she’d cried when I’d mentioned she was helping me do what Milly dreamed of for me. It was the first year in a while that I hadn’t gone to the cemetery, following another one of Milly’s requests.

Now, as I held Frances in her robe, I couldn’t help my hand slipping inside and cupping the side of her breast. Goose bumps broke out on her skin as I rounded her nipple. As I pinched the tiny bundle of nerves, I watched Frances’s head fall back and I kissed my way up her neck.

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