Page 23 of Dark Debt

I watch as Macy gets up to throw away the wrapper and shuffle back to her chair. She’s lost the thing entertaining her fingers and starts to play with the hem of her shorts.

Angling toward her, I take her hands in mine and smile as she looks up at me. “Just breathe. Okay?”

“Sorry. I feel like an idiot. I shouldn’t have made you come.” Her whisper doesn’t hide her stress.

“You didn’t. I wanted to. Try to relax a little, though. All right?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll try.”

The clock ticks by as a few more minutes pass, and I’ve learned that Venetian plaster can be especially hard to work with. Her mom exits through the same door she entered, smiling at the nurse.

“I’ll see you in a few months, Dolores. Bye, hun!”

“See you then, Denise!”

Macy abruptly stands up, waiting for her mom to get close enough to speak to her.

“So, how’d it go? Everything okay?” Macy’s impatience bleeds through into her words.

“It’s fine, Macy. Clean bill of health. No new growths. Remission all around.” Dolores uses that tone parents use when they’re speaking to their children, soothing and calm.

Macy visibly sags as she lets out a deep breath, and I can practically see the invisible weight lift from her shoulders. “I’m so glad.”

She gives her mom a huge hug, and I swallow hard at the display. I was a kid when my mom died. I never got to have conversations like this with her because she kept the severity of her illness from me, protecting me.

When she was gone, my father didn’t bother trying to explain.

“Oh, hun. You don’t need to worry so much about me. I’m fine. And umm,” Dolores eyes me, “I’m glad to see you’ve had a chance to spend time with your friend.”

I have to hand it to the woman. Remembering the cover story after a week is pretty good. Though from what I understand, Macy didn’t get many “gentleman callers” prior to me, which makes me way happier than it should.

If Dolores knew who I really was, however, I have a feeling she’d be far less cordial.

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing well,” I tell her. “I’ll admit that I’ve been hogging Macy for the week. I hope that’s alright with you?”

Plastering on my most charming smile, I nod to Dolores, putting a hand on the small of Macy’s back.

“Of course. Far be it from me to keep Macy from enjoying her time. Though we did miss you at church this morning.”

“Sorry, Mom.” Macy moves to her mother’s side, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I lost track of time. But I can go back with you if you need. Or meet you and Dad at the house?”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. Have fun, dearest.” Dolores leans in close to her daughter, not quite whispering. “We can talk abouthimlater.”

I have to stifle a laugh. That will be quite the story, Mrs. Ross.

“Are you sure?” Macy says as her mom gives her one more hug.

“Yes. I’m completely able to get home. Shoo.”

The loving command makes my heart ache, and I wonder what my own mother would have done if she met Macy.Loved her immediately, of course. Just like I do.

The thought stops me in my tracks for a moment. The natural confession of my feelings, even if only internally, is odd and new.

Macy’s laugh cuts through my ruminations. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

“I love you too, dear.”

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