Mac hadn't cried since the night at The Grand. She wasn't sure if that was something to be proud of or ashamed by. Her eyes and mind were frozen and numb, and she couldn't imagine the effort it would take to bring forth tears. People told her to let it all out and release her sadness and anger. "Just have a good cry sweetheart," yet somehow that wasn't the answer. Forcing any thoughts of Cassidy to the back of her mind was the only strategy that made the feelings go away...if only for a little while.
With the police questioning you, it wasn't easy to forget. Every time she had succeeded in not thinking about him for a whole hour she was called in for follow up interviews. It was a mindless drone to her now.
"No I did not hear Cassidy mention anything about the bus while we were dating. No he didn't show suicidal tendencies. No he never mentioned any knowledge of explosives. I was in the room the whole time. I didn't hear any gunshots in the shower. Cassidy never hurt me."
It was a torturous endless cycle that she figured Lamb was quite enjoying. After hours in the small confinement of the interrogation room the late afternoon sunlight was blinding. An image flashed before her mind of days when she would sit out on her porch with a book soaking in the heat of the sun swimming around her. Now she almost ran to the comfort of her dark car.
It's funny how the exact things (or people) you're trying to avoid always seem to be everywhere. So it wasn't much of a surprise to Mac when she ran with her head down past her own car and right into the door of Dick Casablancas' red truck. He jumped, obviously startled by her intrusion on his thoughts, yet didn't tell her to go away like she'd expected.
All the reasons he would have made the perfect person to talk to about her conflicting emotions about Cassidy also made him the last person she would. He was just as close to him as she had been and represented exactly what she didn't want to be. Mac had heard news stories of his downward spiral and prayed she wouldn't end up the same way. He was everything worth trying to run away from. Dick's face couldn't be seen without the accompanying flood of memories of his brother's smile and laugh and she could do without the negative influence.
Despite all the obvious reasons not to, when he made the small gesture of unlocking the doors of his car, she opened the door and got in. What exactly she was getting herself into she couldn't be sure.
They didn't talk for quite some time. Mac had a feeling he was just as sick of questions as she was. So as much as she wanted to know why he hadn't turned her away she didn't pry.
It was a rare opportunity to look him over, examine the dark circles lining his eyes the scruff forming just along his strong chin. The eyes that had been so full of life and mischief had dimmed to a stormy dark blue. A shaky hand held his favorite silver flask and every minute or so he'd take a desperate gulp as if he couldn't stand even a second of clear thought. Mac felt a wave of hatred toward Cassidy surge through her unlike even the one she'd experienced after finding her clothes missing.
Thanks, look what you've left of us.
Dick had noticed her right hand gripping the door handle so tightly her knuckles were white and held out the flask. A crossroad appeared in her mind. The thoughts and emotions churning throughout her conscious seemed to urge her to accept the offering and enjoy some freedom for a while. It wasn't right. It was the weak thing to do. He was everything she didn't want to be...
Within the next twenty minutes they had finished both the flask and the small bottle of Vodka Dick kept under his seat. It was a blissful state of mind. The colors swirled and danced and she learned that it was much easier to suppress emotions while under the influence. Dick had the right idea. The small smile that grazed his lips when she attempted to turn on the radio (with no avail) would be reward enough for the hangover she would have tomorrow.
"This helps," she muttered and he nodded knowingly. His hair looked so soft and layered with shine it was difficult to resist the urge to touch it. So she did. Impulses were fast becoming irresistible. Though it hadn't been washed often it was just like she'd expected. It went smoothly through her fingers and left little tingles throughout her hand.
He just stared and didn't ask questions. She wasn't sure she could've answered them if he had.
An officer knocked on Dick's window and motioned a thumb to the exit of the lot. They'd been parked for almost an hour. Mac recognized the man as the one that had looked at her with such pity the first day they brought her in she nearly threw up. She had told him with more than a hint of malice he had a bit of bagel in his mustache and he'd never looked at her again. Being ignored was better than receiving sympathy.
"We have to leave." Dick muttered. He gave a small laugh "This should be fun."
He only got as far as the nearest fast food restaurant from the sheriff's department before he gave a sigh of defeat and parked as far from the entrance as possible.
"I thought you would have mastered drunk driving by now."
He shoved hard against the seat suddenly and was thrown backwards. Over the sound of it cranking into a lounging position his voice reached her ears. "Not with passengers." Mac convinced herself it was not a sign of affection but a common courtesy not to risk someone's safety to get home.
The Pizza Hut sign seemed almost ominous in the still darkness now around them. Everything outside the safety of the vehicle was dangerous, complicated, and entirely a façade of deception and lies. Right now all that existed was Mac, Dick, and the smooth leather interior of a truck too form-fitting for its own good.
She knew it was wrong. It was wrong to mimic his reclining position and enjoy lying next to him and staring up at the roof of the truck. It was wrong to play along with his charade that you had no way home though there were cabs everywhere in the town. It was wrong to find solace in the slow deep breathing of someone you are supposed to despise. It was wrong to feel so comfortable with your dead boyfriend's brother.
That didn't mean she had any intention of leaving.
Neither had the energy for tension or awkwardness. As soon as the opportunity to let their walls down presented itself both had taken it with minimal hesitation. Suddenly a lump in her throat was growing and suffocating her. It was as if a hand was clenched tightly around her heart leaving her dizzy with emotion. The feeling was foreign in the midst of the coldness since Cassidy's death.
This is what I get for letting down my guard for one day. I end up a crying fool. Don't be stupid. You are in a completely comfortable situation and you are going to ruin it by being weird and dramatic.
The tears were hotter than she remembered them ever being. Salt stung her cracked lips and stuck to her cheeks. Even with her face tucked against the crook of her arm the embarrassment still burned. Crying was pathetic and weak. She didn't want to be weak because weakness leads to desperate acts like suicide. Don't let me be weak like him.
A warm soft hand engulfed Mac's as it lay motionless on the center console. A jolt passed through her so intense it made her reveal her tear stained face. Dick, jackass, self- absorbed Dick, was holding her hand and running his thumb lightly over her knuckle. He looked up with reassurance in his eyes and shrugged. Just shrugged nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Impulse can be a strange thing.
"I won't look," he said and closed his eyes. It was the first time she had allowed herself to enjoy the freedom and release of crying in years.
Mac awoke to the beating of the sun down on her face and of a security guards fist against the window. It would have been sweet to say that he had held her hand all through the night, but as always that wasn't how things happened. Dick laid facing towards her with his faced sticky against the seat and groaning from the thumping sound. His hair was a matted mess so she smoothed it down gently before he opened his eyes and faced the man. The muffled voice shouted for them to leave the premises if they were not customers.
"People suck," Dick said and flashed the man an innocent albeit exaggerated grin. It took some time but eventually they pulled out of the lot and made their way back to their lives. Civilization seemed to destroy the comfortable understanding little world they had back at the Pizza Hut.
Mac was surprised at his lack of derogatory comments as she directed him towards her house, but that did nothing to ease the empty feeling rising in her chest. Even as he pulled up to her familiar house and yard it felt like a goodbye. As if as soon as she left this truck the world would right itself again and Dick would be his usual self.
He snapped in front of her face. "GW you still there?"
"GW? Because Ghost World was so hard to say you needed to shorten it even more?" She smirked and saw her mother emerge from the house out of the corner of her eye. Another "mother daughter discussion" would probably be in order after this adventure. She grabbed her purse, but still didn't touch the door.
"So same time next week?" He held up the flask quickly so her mother wouldn't see then reached across and pulled the handle. Things may never be as simple as they were on the first night they ever spent in each other's company, but with that simple reassurance there was hope. Hope that things wouldn't be as bad as they had been before and hope that this new Dick might just stick around.
"If you haven't drank it all by then." A slam and a smile and he was off. Her mother's voice was quickly tuned out to be worried about another time. For now she basked in the realization that embracing vulnerability for a little while may make you stronger in the end.