Page 32 of Anchor Point

“Sorry. I got all nervous when you got here and forgot. And um, why are you here, Mac?” Rosie, bless her heart, stepped in, innocently dispersing the sexual tension and bringing us back to the whole reason for this dinner.

I stole a moment, hiding behind the freezer door, both to cool my face and to gather my wits. And my courage. Mac was silent, and it was my place to start telling the truth. “I invited Mac so that we could talk through some things. I think you know what they are.” I busied myself filling the glasses and passing them out. So much easier to have this conversation if I didn’t have to sit under his laser-beam gaze.

But with all my stall tactics out of the way, I rejoined the table and looked my daughter in the eye. Best to just rip off the band-aid. “Years ago, Mac and I met on vacation. We had a fling, and I came home with a souvenir.”

“Me.” She knew this part of the story.

“Right. Except, Mac didn’t know about you. And now that he does, we can move forward. And the two of you can decide if you like each other.”

My daughter looked at Mac with her whole heart in her eyes. What would I do if I lost her in this process? She’d never gazed at me with that much love on her face. Just like me, she was gone for the man, probably from the moment she’d met him. Had I messed up so completely by not looking harder? Or continuing to look through the years? By not taking all the steps she had to find him?

“Also? I’m sorry,” I blurted, heat rising in my cheeks. I’d raised Rosie to be honest in all things, so now it was time for me to own my mistakes. I gathered my courage and looked at Mac, then her. “I just need to say the words. I’m sorry. I failed you both, and I hope you can forgive me.” I hated the wobble in my voice.

Rosie stared at me wide-eyed. It was rare that I let her see me as anything other than strong and capable.

Mac grunted like I’d punched him in the chest. “Moving forward, Liv.”

And that was that.

“So, moving forward, does that mean we can be friends, Mac?” Rosie asked with all the hope a young girl could feel lacing the word “friends.”

“Yeah, Rosie. And we’re gonna start with you coming to hang out, not in secret anymore, with me at my house at Lake Martin while your mom goes to a conference for a couple of days. If you’re cool with it.”

“You’ve got a lake house?” Her eyes lit.

Mac nodded and dug into the food on his plate. Rosie was right, it did look gross. And he was being such a gentleman, making a point to eat the meal I’d prepared.

“Bought it with my dad a long time ago,” he told her. “Meant to be a place for us to fix up together, and then he and Mom would live there after he retired. Something we could keep in the family and pass down. Got plenty of space, so you’ll have your own room.”

“That’s cool. Will they be there? I’d get to meet them?”

Sorrow clouded his gaze as he stilled and looked at her. “No, kiddo,” he said softly. “They passed away before they could ever enjoy it.” The muscle of his jaw clenched as he paused. “But they would’ve loved you.”

Add another to the list of people I’d failed. More guilt burned through me.

Rosie pushed her food around on her plate. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” he replied softly. “This picture situation the one we talked about with the mean girls?”

“Yeah.”

Mac nodded in understanding. They’d clearly discussed her feelings over the situation, something I was going to have to come to terms with. They were allowed to have that, even if I didn’t like being left out.

“So,” Rosie shifted gears again, “what are we going to do at the lake house?”

“I dunno. I’ve got some projects to work on, and you can help. Always got projects going over there. It’s a work in progress.”

From there, the conversation shifted to what Rosie would need for the weekend. Mac said he’d handle getting her, and before long, they were making their plans, while I sat by as an observer to this fast friendship they had formed.

All thoughts of suspension, schoolgirl issues, and dirty pictures forgiven and forgotten.

This was what moving forward looked like with him.

I decided I’d have to also let go of the issue with the school, because he’d helped her resolve the root issue. She was serving her punishment, and if art was her creative outlet, I wanted to support her. But I would make it a point to be more responsible with my reading material until I could have more in-depth discussions about sex. Not that I was a good role model for having responsible sex.

I played bystander while they made plans to spend time together, my heart cracking just a little in the process. And if I was honest, a little jealous, because their plans sounded like a lot more fun than a public-safety conference.

But by the time Mac left, I was at least comfortable with the idea of letting her go. And even more certain that them getting to know each other was the right thing, even if it was hard to accept.

---