Page 86 of Clean Slade
“First of all, as far as Mac is concerned, the running was just a little winter vacation. She loved the time at the yurt. And you didn’t cause this, King. Kids go through all sorts of phases.”
“But she’s not stupid. What if she knows something’s wrong with me—”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“You know what I mean.” He looked away but didn’t pull his hand from under mine.
As if he wanted the connection as much as I did.
And not for the first time, I felt like I was part of this family, and I hated it.
I hated it because it wasn’t real. And getting so disillusioned would only hurtmein the long run. And hadn’t I been hurt enough already?
“Mac is a lovely girl, and I’m sure even if something is bothering her, she wouldn’t love you any less.”
He held my gaze for a few moments, and the urge to lean in, to do what had almost happened too many times to count, was strong.
“Maybe if…” He pulled away before I got the courage to do it and grabbed the two plates, putting them in the fridge. “If we go to the Happy Witch Cafe, we can coax the truth out of her.”
I nodded and bit back the need that had come to the surface.
This man never stopped running. Running from his father, running from the truth, running from his feelings.
I wondered, not for the first time, if maybe losing Mac’s mom so young and in the way he did had scared him away from relationships for the rest of his life.
Or maybe there was something else that had happened I wasn’t privy to. There were already so many other things I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be surprised.
We managed to drag Mac away from the TV and out into the beautiful January winter morning.
It wasn’t hot, but it was warm enough that we couldn’t see our breath and didn’t need any extra layers to stay warm.
The Happy Witch Café was open as usual and brimming with life. Lots of parents and kids were around and standing in line at the counter waiting to order. With me holding one of Mac’s hands while King held the other, I’d never felt more like a family.
But how could I when King avoided contact with me—or even the truth?
Maybe taking this job had been a mistake, but how could I leave it when Mac needed me.
How can I when I’m sure King needs me too?
“Oh, a table. Mac, go get it now!” King pointed to a small one by the window with three chairs.
Mac ran over and sat down before a woman who’d also set her eyes on it.
Eventually, we worked down the line and joined Mac with our drinks. We got our usual pot of coffee to share.
Pfft, as if we have a usual. Is it my fault for dreaming we’d have a usual?
Mac got a big hot cocoa with marshmallows and M&Ms, and we waited for the stack of pancakes that were her favorite.
“So, sweetie, how’s school?” King glanced at me before focusing on his daughter, as if looking at me gave him strength.
Again, stop dreaming, Slade!
“It’s fine,” she said, dipping her mouth in the whipped cream and candy that gave her a cute mustache.
“Are you sure? You know if there’s anything wrong, either at school or home, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
Mac eyed her father, but when she opened her mouth, a woman appeared at the table with a kid pinned to her front.
