Page 78 of The Facilitator: Part 2
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It was late morning,again, when I finally woke. I stretched and blinked back the sleep that had collected in the corner of my eyes, or it could have been the previous evening’s makeup. I was alone in the bed, and I expected that. Mackenzie was always an early riser and he’d managed a full night’ssleep.
I pulled on a T-shirt and yoga pants and made my way downstairs. Mackenzie was sitting at the dining table. He looked up as he heard me, then stood. His smile was a beautifulsight.
Before I got to the last step, he had crossed the room and caught me in his arms. I laughed as he lifted me to thefloor.
“How do you feel this morning?” Iasked.
“About fifty pounds lighter,” he said. I tried to calculate what that would be in stones. “I’m meeting my dad for lunch, then the accountants with Gabriella and Alex. I don’t want to leave you here on your own, notafter…”
“I can handle Daniel, don’t you worry about that,” I said, cutting himoff.
“I was going to say, not after last night. I just don’t want to be away from you rightnow.”
“That’s creepy. You have things to do, I have things to do, so go and do your stuff,okay?”
“You don’t have things to do,” he said,laughing.
“I have washing to do. I’ll soon be out of pants, as will you. Go, Mackenzie. Make sure you fuck Daniel right where the sun won’tshine.”
“Now that’s creepier,” he replied. He grabbed his mobile and kissed me briefly before he left. I locked the door behindhim.
I had a feeling his day was going to be both emotional and complicated. I didn’t envy him at all. I made tea and sat on the veranda, looking out over the ocean. I’d stay there reading and doing the washing until hereturned.
I fell in love. The top-loading washing machine was the exact type I’d see on any old American soap and stood in a utility room. It took me a half hour to figure out how to use it, of course. I took a picture of it and sent it to my mum; she would remember top-loaders. We reminisced by text for a few minutes. While the washing was on, I did a little housework. I remembered Mackenzie said Sandra looked after the property while he wasn't around, but it didn’t look like it had been given a good spring clean in a while. It would keep me occupied for awhile.
I scrubbed surfaces and washed floors. I sat and drank tea, and then coffee when the tea ran out. I made a jug of iced water and left it in the fridge. Instead of cranking up the air con, I opened all the windows. The smell of the ocean wafted around, adding to the fresh scents of the cleaning materials. Yet again I wondered how Mackenzie could bear to leave the house. With the washing done and pinned on a clotheshorse on the veranda, I sat and read for awhile.
It didn’t take long for the clothes to dry. I folded and decided to take them back upstairs. Because we had only expected to stay a couple of nights, I hadn’t unpacked fully. I noticed some dresses and tops that had started to crease. I decided to hang them up. When I opened the wardrobe and there were only a couple of hangers, I walked back to the hallway, ignoring the room Mackenzie’s mum had slept in, and opted for the third bedroom door. It was very masculine in its décor and I wondered if it became Mack’s bedroom when his wife was too sick to share a bed. I opened the wardrobe to see if I could find spare hangers. I grabbed a handful, and as I was about to close the door, I noticed a box. On top of the box were the words,Our Wedding. It didn’t look old enough to be Mackenzie’s parents’ photographs. I placed the hangers on the bed and picked up the box. I shouldn’t have looked but, as I stood there, I asked myself if every woman in her man’s house would have a sneak look at his old photographs. Of course they would. I took the box and sat on the bed. I lifted the lid to see a discoloured and stained satin-covered photoalbum.
It was with hesitation I opened it. The first picture I came to was of Mackenzie with another man, his best man, his best friend, Daniel. Although considerably younger, he didn’t really look much different. Daniel did, however. It was clear the drink or the drugs had ravished his once handsome face. Whereas his hair was blond in the photo, it was a dirty light brown now. For a second, I felt sorry forhim.
The next picture was of Gabriella. She was maid of honour and she stood with three other women in similar outfits. Maybe it was because I knew she had once loved Mackenzie, but there wasn’t the happiness in her face the other womendisplayed.
Then I came to Addison. I fought the green-eyed monster; she was stunning in her wedding gown with her hair loosely pinned. Blonde tendrils framed her petite face and, in that picture, she displayed an innocence I felt was true. Perhaps she hadn’t always been the bitch I imagined her to be. Mackenzie loved her once, so she couldn’t have been all awful. I wondered when and why she’dchanged.
There were pictures of both Addison and Mackenzie in the church, holding hands, exchanging rings, kissing, hugging, and wiping tears. There were pictures of her father—a beast of a man—shaking Mackenzie’s hand. There was Mack, although he seemed to be more on the outskirts. Group pictures and individual snaps filled the rest of the album. It took me staring at the spot on the plastic cover of the last photograph to realise it was atear.
I wiped the tear with the hem of my dress and I closed the album. I replaced it in the box and put it back on the shelf. I shouldn’t have looked, but his past wasn’t hidden. I was sad and it confused me. I was sad Gabriella didn’t get to be with him, yet happy she hadn’t; she had Alex and I had Mackenzie. I was sad that Mackenzie was so over the moon and beamed with pride at his wife, who would later betray him so horribly. I was angry he shook hands with the man who would impregnate Addison and then spend years tormenting Mackenzie overit.
Mostly, I was sad I didn’t think I’d ever have that kind of a photoalbum.
Scott and I had married in a registry office; a friend took some unprofessional photographs, mostly of the side of heads or opened-mouthed mid-sentence. They’d been shoved into a cheap photo album and presented as a gift. I didn’t want a professional album of photographs from a wedding I had dissolved withdivorce.
I did want an album of photographs of me with the man I would love forever. I wanted memories I could spend hours pouring over on a cold and miserable winter’s evening when I was an oldwoman.
I remembered the photograph that had been taken as we entered the house the previous evening. I found the card in the pocket of Mackenzie’s jacket and left the bedrooms. I sat in the kitchen with his laptop and logged on to the website listed. The password was printed on the rear of the card and I was able to scan through the photographs. Gabriella and Alex looked stunning together, as did their guests. After a couple of minutes scanning through, I found the one of Mackenzie and me. For once, I loved the image of me. Mackenzie was kissing my temple, and although it was posed, it was still a tender moment and our very first official memory. I ran back upstairs for my purse and credit card. When I returned, I input the details and gave both the address in South Carolina and for the UK. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to print andsend.
I decided to log in to my emails while I had the laptop open. I wished Ihadn’t.
Hey, hun. I don’t know if Mackenzie told you that I advised him of some shares to buy. I think he thought I’d bought them, but I hadn’t. I gave the money to someone else, so they weren’t in my name. All the shares have been bought now, so I know he said he owned the company, but something’s going on. I’m uneasy now. I can’t sell them as he advised because I don’t technically own them. Oh, hun, I think Addison has connedme.
Although not spoken, I could feel the hurt in his words. He had fallen for her, for sure. I checked my watch which was still on UK time. It was late evening and I wasn’t sure he would have gone to bed. I ranghim.
“Jerry, I’m so sorry,” I said, when he answered. “I need you to do something for me. Don’t say a word to Addison, please? Something is going on that Mackenzie is dealing with as quickly as he can. In the meantime, you can’t alert her that you knowanything.”
I hadn’t given him the chance to even sayhello.
