Page 27 of Skipping Stones

“Too long.”

“How’s Olivia?” She was stalling, and Derek knew it.

“She’s fine. Working too hard, but that’s not new. What did you want to talk about?”

“It’s not important. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“Linney, it’s me. You can tell me anything. Is it Mac?”

There was silence. “Things aren’t good,” she said finally. “No, things are awful.”

It was like a dam broke and suddenly Linney told Derek all about how bad it had gotten.

He was aghast. “Linney, you have to get yourself out of this relationship. Now, before he hurts you.” Derek had too many clients—admittedly in very different circumstances—who had been in abusive relationships, and often alcohol was at the root of them. “I’m serious about this. Do you know how many women?—”

“I know.” He heard a vulnerability in her voice that he had never heard before. “I just don’t know if I can.”

“Linney, you know I love you, right? You’re my best friend in the world. And I am frightened for you.” He heard her crying on the other end of the phone. “You can do this. You are strong enough to do this. You must do this.”

“Thank you, Derek,” she whispered and hung up the phone. He hoped she believed it.

10

The following night Linney was in bed early and sound asleep when she suddenly jolted awake. There was a noise at her door. Was someone trying to get into her apartment? Then she heard a key in the lock and the door open. It was Mac.

“Anyone home? Linney? Where are you?” This did not sound good. She jammed on her glasses and saw the time. Two o’clock. Linney slid out of bed and tiptoed into the hall to see what state he was in just in time to watch him stumble into the console table. He put out his hand to steady himself and knocked over her mason jar of stones. It crashed to the floor with a loud noise and the glass shattered. The stones scattered and the largest, from the lake, bounced and landed on Mac’s foot. He swore and hopped around in pain. “Linney, why do you keep that stupid jar there?” he yelped.

“Stay still, I’ll get the broom,” she said, making her way quickly to the kitchen. “Seriously, don’t move. You’ll get hurt.”

Linney swept the entire mess into a dustpan and decided to deal with separating the glass from the stones in the morning. Mac went into the kitchen and poured himself a drink. Waving his glass around wildly he asked Linney if she wanted one too. Shaking her head, Linney quietly went back to bed.

When Mac joined her in the bedroom a few minutes later, she was curled away from him. “You asleep already?” Linney squeezed her eyes shut and stayed quiet. “Fine,” he muttered. “I can get better sex somewhere else.” Linney held her hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. He left the bedroom and headed to the bathroom. When the shower was still running fifteen minutes later, Linney found him passed out on the floor. She turned off the water and roused him enough to put him into her bed. Then she spent what was left of the night on the couch.

As Linney painstakingly pulled her stones from the shards of glass the next morning from her stones, she sliced her hand open. Cursing under her breath, she ran water over the cut and wrapped it in a clean tea towel. When she couldn’t rouse Mac, she took herself to urgent care. Six stitches and a tetanus booster later, she returned to her flat. Mac was gone.

“Where did you go this morning?” Mac asked when she finally made it to the newsroom. He noticed her bandage. “What happened to you?”

Linney stared at him, open-jawed, seeing him critically with new eyes. Gone was the devastatingly handsome man she’d fallen for when she arrived in London. This man was dishevelled and both his face and midsection carried the weight gained from years of drinking. In a sudden moment of clarity, she knew, without a shadow of a doubt. It was time. Still, she answered him.

“You broke a jar last night. Don’t you remember? I cut myself cleaning it up. I had to take myself to hospital.” It was clear Mac had no recollection of the night before.

It was the final straw. With a quiet resolve she didn’t know she had, Linney called a locksmith and met him at her flat at lunchtime. He drilled out the old lock, put in a new one and handed her the keys. He left and she leaned against the door and then slid down to the floor. This was not going to be easy.

Pulling herself together, Linney splashed water on her face and headed back to work.

“Bonjour,” she greeted MJ, who instantly knew something was amiss.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Linney shook her head. “Later. First, I have to talk to Gemma.”

Linney climbed the stairs and knocked on Gemma’s door. “Could I have a minute?” she asked seriously. Gemma waved her in with a premonition. Linney hadn’t looked well since she’d returned from Canada, but today, she looked awful.

Linney sat in one of the guest chairs. “I’m done,” she said flatly. “I’ve had the locks changed. Tonight I’m going to tell him.”

Gemma started to speak, but Linney put up her hand. “I know this isn’t great timing, but I have to do this now, while I still have the courage. I still haven’t even told MJ. But I thought you should know. Because I don’t know what will happen. How he’ll react. Or for that matter, what it means in the newsroom.” She looked Gemma straight in the eye. “You said you’re his friend. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Gemma chose her words carefully. “This is very brave of you. Don’t worry. I’ll figure out the newsroom. Thank you for telling me, so I can be ready.”

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