A/N: The title comes from a line in Cecilia and the Satellite, which didn't come out until 2014, so way after this story was set, but regardless I thought it worked in context. I actually discovered (and fell in love) with this song from another fic in this fandom. This is the date chapter. Enjoy! If the weather is nasty in your corner of the world, stay warm & safe. We're under a big winter storm here in my area, and I know millions of other people are experiencing it, too.
And thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed my last chapter! I really appreciate it. I hope you keep on enjoying the rest of this story. Thank you so much to my awesome beta, Cainc3!
"The things I've learned from a broken mirror, how a face can change when a heart knows fear."
-From the song Cecilia and the Satellite by Andrew McMahon
Chapter 27— The Things I've Learned From a Broken Mirror
******Saturday, September 26, 2009******
Mac woke up with a start but couldn't remember what exactly had pulled her out of her deep sleep. She used to jokingly compare her deep sleep abilities to a coma, but that analogy died a quick death back in June after she had ended up in an actual coma after getting hit by a baseball.
There was no comparison between those two states, a fact she sadly now knew to be true.
She glanced over at her bedside clock and muttered a string of profanity under her breath. It was almost 6, and she had two hours of grooming work to pack into the approximately 45 minutes of time left until Dick picked her up for their date. He insisted it wasn't a pity date, but Mac still had a frisson of doubt coursing through her.
Her nap was a good diversion, but when she had once again crash landed back into reality, the memories of brunch with her "stepsister" Madison and the rest of the Sinclairs came back in a wave. She felt like they were now a twisted version of a blended family, though no blueprint for life going forward was drawn up, except for Thanksgiving. Fortunately, that was still almost 2 months away. There was plenty of time to develop an ulcer worrying about blending both of her families, right now the only thing that mattered was making herself presentable for tonight's pity date.
What did one wear for a pity date?
Despite being assured countless times that was not the case, Mac was still sure she lacked any girly genes. 'Mom1', however, was a wonderful mix of girly and athletically inclined, and she made it look effortless. This morning's wardrobe assistance was not appreciated, but that was mostly due to the fact she was not aiming to dress to impress. Tonight's pity date, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. There was also the fact that she owed her mom for ducking out on the Monday Morning quarterbacking of brunch with the Sinclairs.
The nap had been a very effective avoidance technique.
As she ventured out of the safe haven of her bedroom in search of 'Mom1', Mac tried to prepare herself for her mom's good-natured teasing. One of the strangest side effects of her injury was how much her mom liked Dick. He was not really known for being parent bait, the kind of kid parents love to see their progeny make friends with. However, he'd been there from the start of her injury, and had practically set up camp in the waiting room as she'd hovered between life and death, and her coma life and her real waking life. But once she was out of the hospital and on her way to recovery Dick had started to drift away again. It was perplexing, but then again, that usually was her pseudo friend's default factory setting. Things changed once they had a tête à tête on Tuesday, he confessed that he didn't think she wanted him to be a part of her recovery process. She had set him straight, with the unexpected development of him asking her out. The strangest part of all, though, was her answer—yes! She wasn't even Jedi mind-tricked into acceptance.
Tuesday apparently that was destined to be her tête à tête day. That also happened to be the day her parents finally explained the reason why she never really felt she belonged in the Mackenzie family; her DNA proved she was a Sinclair. She, of course, already knew that, but no one in her family knew she discovered the truth in high school. It wasn't like she could just say "I was switched at birth with Madison Sinclair, please pass the vegan sweet potato casserole."
Could she?
It was now Saturday, and she had managed to squander away too much time with recuperative sleep, not leaving her enough time in her quest to look presentable.
"Mom! Mom, where are you? Can you come up here for a second?" Mac shouted from the top of the stairs.
"Stop yelling, Cindy, I'll be right there," came the quick reply. Mac heard the tread of 'Mom1' on the stairs before she came into view.
"You're awake, Sleeping Beauty. I went into your room to check on you and couldn't rouse you." 'Mom1' continued. She didn't have to tell Mac it took her back in time to the coma, she didn't need to, everything was written on her face.
"Rich peoples' breakfast really takes it out of a girl," Mac tried to force a little levity in her voice, not wanting to get serious, there just wasn't time for that. She sniffed the air; her mom still hadn't stopped smoking apparently. Her mom had picked up the habit again in the early days of her coma, the deal was she'd stop when Mac awoke, but that still hadn't happened. Of course, Mac knew habits were not an easy thing to break, and their life had become a revolving door of stressors these days.
"Apparently! So, what can I help you with, Cin?"
"Well, I have plans tonight, and I thought I'd make good use of your girly side, Mom."
"Plans? Do these plans involve a gentleman caller by chance?"
"A man, maybe, though I'd say more like a man-child. As for the gentleman persuasion, well, I wouldn't go that far."
'Mom1''s face lit up at that announcement. "A man-Child caller, got it. Who?" she asked excitedly. "Anyone I know?"
"Richard Casablancas." Mac wasn't sure why she called him by his given name.
Mac watched her mom's face as confusion was quickly replaced by a big smile. "Yes! Dad owes me 50 dollars!"
Of all the reactions she'd expected her mom to have, that wasn't one of them. "I didn't know you were a gambler."
"I'm not. I only gamble when I know I'm going to win."
"That's the exact opposite of gambling, mom."
"Duh! I told your dad when you were still in the…the hospital that you and Dick would be dating by the end of this year. He thought it would be a lot longer than that until either of you stubborn kids would admit you liked each other that way."
Mac noticed her mom stumbling slightly over the word "hospital," but didn't comment on it.
"Well, as much I'd like to continue to rehash this subject, seeing as I don't have a team of magic mice to assist me, this Cinderella has to get dressed for the ball. I was hoping that you had a couple wardrobe suggestions for me."
"There should be a blue dress in there that I bought you this summer. It was the day of, well you know, the day you…Yeah, the day of your, um, accident."
"Would it look good with combat boots?" Mac snarked. She couldn't resist.
Ignoring that, 'Mom1' maneuvered around Mac, and entered her bedroom. She headed straight for the closet, pushed a couple items aside, and honed right in on a bright blue cotton sleeveless dress. She presented it to Mac with a flourish.
"Perfect. Thanks mom."
"You're welcome, sweetie. I'll put it on your bed, why don't you go take a shower now."
"Why didn't I think of that myself?" Mac asked in a mocking tone, slapping her forehead with her palm.
"I know, I know, you have excellent hygiene."
"You taught me well, I can bathe myself and everything."
'Mom1' didn't reply back to that, but her face went soft, Mac assumed that everything that came out of her mouth brought her mom back to this morning's brunch. Subtext was heavy in the air, coating everything in its wake.
Mac was ready by the time Dick rang their doorbell a prompt 45 minutes later. She got up to open the door when a whirlwind breezed past her. Ryan. She never saw him move so fast, except when running from base to base, of course.
"I'll get it, sis!" He called behind him.
Before she could shoot that idea down, she heard the door open, and Ryan greet her guest. Apparently, Dick managed to impress her entire family, not just 'Mom1.'
To stop her brother from screaming out her name, she quickly made her way into the entryway. "Thanks for getting the door, Ryan. You can go back to your game." The glare she gifted him communicated that his job was now finished.
Judging from Dick's expression Mac guessed that she cleaned up well. Not surprisingly, she could say the same thing about a certain surfer guy, but then again, he had always been a good-looking asshole. She noticed his hair was neatly trimmed. It wasn't short, but it wasn't shaggy anymore.
"New 'do?!"
Dick nodded, but his smile told her he was happy that she noticed.
She pointed to the door, hoping to herd him out before the rest of her family came out to greet her date, but apparently the stars weren't aligned.
"Leaving so soon?" 'Dad1''s voice sounded large in the tiny entryway of their house.
"Mr. Mac! Hello sir. No, of course not," Dick stammered out. Mac tried to stifle her smile at his odd mix of casual and formal, they were at odds with each other, but maybe that was a good metaphor for him.
"I believe you two have met." Mac said.
"Yes, in the hospital," Dick affirmed. "Good to see you again, sir. Especially, you know, under these circumstances, not the way we originally met."
"I think after everything we've been through, you can call me Sam. It is nice to see you again, too."
"Thanks."
"I hate to interrupt the reunion, but we've got to leave now dad." Mac said, shooing Dick out the door.
Sitting on the driveway, taking up a lot of real estate, was Dick's big yellow truck. Mac had nicknamed it the banana mobile.
"I can't believe your truck is still running."
"This is a quality piece of American automotive engineering."
"It's American, yes," Mac agreed before letting her voice trail off…
"And quality built," Dick added.
"It's American, yes," Mac repeated. "We've established that," she added.
Dick got into the driver's seat, and then twisted slightly to stow away a plastic bag she only just noticed he'd been carrying with him.
"What's that?"
"Just something your brother gave me. It was something he owed me from this summer."
"Oh," Mac said. It was probably a back issue of a magazine, or something like that.
They buckled up and headed out of Mac's neighborhood, passing Settler's Park.
"Where are we…" Mac started to ask, in hopes of filling the brief gap of silence, but as she was speaking, Dick apparently wanted to fix the silence too because he'd started to simultaneously say "I was thinking we'd try…"
They both laughed, and then Dick continued, "Mama Leone's. Have you been there yet?"
"No. Not yet."
"They have a vegan section, a gluten free section, and just about every other diet anyone could be on. I checked." Dick looked proud of himself as he said that. "I can read and everything, before you ask."
"I already guessed that" Mac shot back. "Have you been there yet? I think they just opened about a year ago."
"I had some carry out from there this summer," Dick replied.
Mac wasn't sure how to interpret the downturn his expression took, though it was just a brief flicker.
"As long as you didn't end up with food poisoning or anything, it sounds good to me."
"Nope, no food poisoning," Dick affirmed. "Maybe we'll see Logan and his Siamese twin there."
"Logan? I thought he was at Stanford this weekend."
"Change of plans."
"Why?" Mac asked, but she suspected it was all because of her "rich person's breakfast" at the Sinclair's that morning.
It was only that morning, but it felt more like 3 years ago.
She and Veronica had Skyped a few times that week on the heels of her parent's big announcement about the baby mix up with the Sinclairs. Veronica was the perfect sounding board since she had been the original custodian of that knowledge. Mac had thought she did a good job downplaying her conflicted feelings, but apparently her acting wasn't as stellar as she had thought. She surmised that Vee had decided to come home just to be on standby in case a shoulder to cry on was required.
"You act like I'm an expert of the inner workings of Ronnie's mind."
"You're not?!" Mac asked, feigning surprise. She put her hand over her heart for dramatic effect.
"Logan just said that Veronica needed to do something down here this weekend, he didn't say what and I didn't ask."
"Oh." Mac wasn't surprised that Bond didn't share her reasoning, that girl knew how to keep a secret better than anyone else she'd ever met. The secret didn't seem to matter, she was equally adept at keeping other peoples' secrets as much as her own. It was a good trait to have. Veronica had always possessed strong friendship skills. "So, are they joining us at Mama Leone's?"
"No, I don't think so. I think they were just going to hang out on Dog Beach. Logan and I had talked about us meeting up with them after dinner," Dick said. "If that's okay with you," he added.
"Sounds good to me."
"We can stop by Java the Hut to get dessert to go, and have a picnic on the beach," Dick suggested.
"You had me at dessert," Mac replied. "I make it a policy never to say no to a Soy Chai Latte and they have the best vegan apple crisp in town."
"And I'm betting the only vegan apple crisp in town," Dick added. "You veg heads," he shook his head. "I'll never understand it, but I don't mind being a vegan enabler." He waited a beat, and then clarified, "your vegan enabler."
They had just got onto the PCH on their way to downtown Neptune. Mac watched Dick deftly maneuver the big truck. She pulled the visor down so she could look in the mirror. She was still surprised by her choppy hairstyle. Before the accident, her hair hadn't been that long, but still it was a sleek, chin length bob, now it barely covered her ears. The funny thing was she could picture herself getting that same short haircut as a fashion choice, but now it only served as a reminder of the trauma of the last few months.
Sometimes she viewed those frequent reminders as a bad thing, other times she felt proud of herself for everything she had overcome to get to the point she was at now.
Mac dug through her clutch bag and pulled out a tube of lip gloss from its depth. As she was starting to apply it though, they came to a jerking stop as Dick hit the brakes hard.
"Oops, sorry," he said, in a tone that sounded anything but apologetic. "Did I smear your lipstick?"
"You did that on purpose, you ass," Mac said, her voice rising. "And your little plan failed. It's clear gloss," she said smirking, even though she knew he couldn't see her in the dimly lit truck. She again rummaged in her purse, this time to look for a Kleenex to wipe away the sticky gloss. She rolled her eyes; that was such a high school Dick Casablancas move. The whole exchange felt familiar to her, but she couldn't explain why.
"Hey, it was accident," Dick defended. "I didn't want to hit the car in front of me."
"Likely story! That car is like a mile ahead of us." Mac said. She was about to add more when she heard a ping coming from her cell phone located somewhere in her too small and crowded purse. She dug it out and saw that Lauren had responded to her earlier message. Before she could hit reply, they had pulled into the parking lot of Mamma Leone's.
Dick held the door to the restaurant open for Mac. She thanked him and took a big sniff of the pungent smell of garlic perfuming the air. She recognized the chorus of Dean Martin's "Mambo Italiano" projecting from the sound system.
"A little bit of Mac, here I am. A little bit of you makes me your man. Mambo number Five," Dick sang quietly in her ear.
"I think you're mixing up the songs," Mac corrected.
"I know that" Dick said, a little defensively, "but I only know the words to "Mambo Number Five," so I improvised."
"I don't think Dean Martin would appreciate it."
"But Lou Bega definitely would."
"Not if you're singing it."
"Mac-a-doodle! I'm hurt. That honestly hurts my heart."
Even though they were just teasing back and forth, an injured puppy expression flashed across Dick's face. Mac thought maybe he should slap a patent on that look, he wore it so well, as though he'd invented it just for her.
"Somehow I think you'll be able to rise above the pain and move on."
"There you go, putting more faith in me than I deserve." As he said that, his joking tone turned serious at the end.
The conversational back and forth ended at that point by the overly cheerful hostess taking their name and letting them know it would be just a few moments before they could be shown to their table. As the last notes to the Dean Martin song faded, Mac looked around the small restaurant. She took in the rustic wood shiplap walls decorated by Vintage art prints of wine bottles and framed Italian movie posters; the small round bistro tables covered with red checkered vinyl tablecloths. It was warm and cozy, not old and faded like Luigi's had become towards the end of its reign as Neptune's token fine Italian dining destination.
As Mac studied the restaurant, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Dick was studying her with the same intensity. She reached a hand up to her hair, a nervous habit she had for as long as she could remember.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," Dick snapped out of his reverie. "Just thinking. Sorry."
"What?! You?! I thought that only happened when you were under a certain tree."
"I mentioned my thinking tree like one time."
"Or 50 times, give or take," Mac corrected.
Before they could continue that conversational thread, the hostess summoned them. As they walked towards one of the tables tucked away in the back corner, the sound system had switched over to Frank Sinatra soulfully crooning about New York.
They settled into their chairs. Mac looked over the menu, there was an impressive array of vegan selections, there were at least 12 to choose from. Most restaurants she patronized only had 3 or 4 choices. The Eggplant Rollatini quickly caught her eye. She folded the menu and laid it aside.
"You want to get a bottle of wine?" Dick asked.
"Sure. How about that Cabernet right there?" Mac pointed to a wine that came from a vegan vineyard she liked.
Dick nodded in agreement.
The waitress came by their table just then to take their order. As they waited for the wine, Dick worked to fill the brief silence that descended upon them. He started in on some story about one of his classes earlier that week. Mac tried to focus but couldn't muster much interest in the subject at hand. She thought she was hiding her distraction well.
"Are you okay?" Dick asked. "You seem bored."
"What?" Mac asked. "Oh, yes, I'm okay. Sorry. It's been a busy day." Apparently, she wasn't doing as good of a job as she'd hoped. When they were teasing back and forth it was one thing, but any lull in the conversation brought her right back into her head. That was a dangerous place to be on that particular day, on the heels of a conversation that had been nearly 18 years in the making.
Mac was glad when the wine arrived. She wasn't much of a drinker on a typical day, but nothing was typical on that day, starting with brunch with her bio family, and ending with her date with Dick Casablancas. She fiddled with her glass, giving her hands something to do.
"Headache?" Dick guessed.
"No," Mac said, an undercurrent of surprise in her voice. Headaches were usually her default setting these days, but for the moment she was pain free. Unfortunately, she suspected that after the wine it wouldn't stay that way, but that was a consequence she was willing to pay.
"I guess my A game needs a little tweaking."
"This is your A game?" Mac teased in a mock questioning tone. "I was thinking C game, at best." She laughed as Dick balled up the cloth napkin and attempted to throw it at her. It didn't go very far, landing in a heap in the middle of the table., narrowly missing the candle centerpiece. "Your pitching arm needs work too. It's a miracle you didn't burn the restaurant down."
"Are you trying to give me a complex, Mackenzie?"
"Trying? You mean I didn't succeed?"
"It takes much more than that."
"Maybe I'm the one who needs to brush up on my A game."
"Oh, you still know how to bring it Macster!"
She felt her mouth turn up slightly at Dick's patented double entendre, but she did slip in an eye roll, it was an automatic reflex whenever they were together.
"You're the only girl I've ever met who can make an eye roll sexy."
"You're the only guy I've ever met who thinks an eye roll is sexy, to begin with," Mac said, turning it all around on Dick.
"I just tell it like I see it."
"I used to think that was a bad thing," Mac admitted. "Now I'm not so sure. Maybe I should be more like that."
"I think whatever it is you're doing is working, from where I'm sitting you don't need to change a thing."
"Maybe your eyes need to be checked out." Mac muttered.
"Nope. Perfect vision, thank you very much."
"I used to have that, too," Mac grumped. "But not anymore." She pointed to her turquoise framed glasses. "Hopefully I'll be able to ditch these soon."
"Yes, I'd noticed the new accessory. I've always liked girls in glasses, I've got a weakness for super-hot geeks, apparently."
"So, just to be clear, I'm the super-hot geek in this scenario?" Mac's skepticism bled into her words.
"Well, if the glasses fit…"
That banter, however, was interrupted by the arrival of their dinner.
Mac looked over at the brown hunk of grisly meat on Dick's plate, it didn't make her question her dietary lifestyle. "What did you get?" She asked before cutting off a piece of eggplant and putting it in her mouth.
"Veal Marsala, my Italian go-to. How's your eggplant?"
"Good. Even better than Luigi's, though I hate to admit that" she said after she'd swallowed her first bite of dinner.
"I won't tell Ronnie," Dick promised, between bites of his meal. "I don't want to find myself on the business end of her taser."
"Thanks! I, too, value my life and limbs. You'd think she owned stock in that place."
"She didn't?!" Dick asked, mockingly. "So, somewhat off topic, but I learned some interesting things this summer while you were…"
"In a coma," Mac helpfully supplied. It didn't sound like Dick wanted to say that word out loud either. She supposed people were afraid that mentioning it would bring up bad memories for her, or themselves. It was never far from her mind anyway, so it didn't matter.
"Yes, that."
"Spill. What was it that you learned about me?"
"Well, apparently, as part of a car crowdfunding scheme, a certain hot geek came up with a devious plan to sell the Purity Test results."
"Veronica told you that?" Mac was taken aback; her friend was not one for secret sharing.
"No, actually it was Logan that shared that bit of intel with us. I'm quite impressed, Ghost World."
"Don't be," Mac said, softly, glaring at the nickname she'd always hated. "I knew I shouldn't have mentioned it, but Logan and I were in the middle of a hard-core game of Never Have I Ever, high school edition and the confession just flew out of my mouth."
"I wish I'd been there sharing my wit and intellect with you guys," Dick said. The slight edge of wistfulness seemed genuine.
"I'm not sure we'd have been able to handle your wit that night."
"Probably not," Dick agreed. He seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, before adding "what was your Purity Test score?"
"Like I would ever take that test! And I certainly lacked the funds to purchase anyone else's test. I just did the brokering of everyone's results. Do you remember what yours was?"
"Yes," Dick said simply.
"And it was…?"
"A prime number."
"23?"
"No."
"29?"
"Ha! Nope." Dick said.
"43?"
"What do you think I am, a Boy Scout? No, now you're way off. That's borderline insulting."
"Insulting?!" Mac raised her eyebrows at that.
"Yes, insulting."
"That's all I'm going to get? Can I get a clue at least?"
"A prime number bigger than 7 and less than 23," Dick clarified, proudly. "I don't think it would be any lower these days, if that counts for something."
"Nope!" Mac confirmed, decisively.
"So, did you share any other deep, dark secrets with Logan that night?"
"That wasn't juicy enough?"
"I was just checking to see if there were any other things hidden in your past."
It was obvious from his expression, that Dick was just teasing her. He had no clue how close to home he'd just hit.
"Just one," Mac said, and then pantomimed zippering her mouth shut, "and Logan doesn't know." She waited a beat, and then softly added, "I guess after today, it's not really a secret anymore."
"Really? I was just teasing, Mac. I thought if anyone had escaped the Neptune curse, it was you." Dick cocked his head, waiting for her to continue. Mac knew that was her cue, and before she was consciously aware of what she was doing she took a deep breath and told him the reason she was distracted earlier in the evening.
Dick was completely silent during Mac's confession, though she felt like she could read every emotion that flashed on his face—surprise, confusion, and the emotion she hated the most, sympathy. She only took occasional glimpses at him, the rest of the time her eyes were focused on the flickering flame of the candle centerpiece. She spoke softly, haltingly in places.
Dick's hand reached across the table to grab Mac's hand which she had resting on the table.
"You could have rescheduled," Dick said at long last. "I would have understood. I think I would have gone underground after the hell you went through today."
"I actually wanted the distraction."
"I get that," Dick finally said, "and I'm always happy to be your distraction, Macster." He waited a beat, and then softly added, "Do you feel better now that everyone involved knows the truth?"
"Yes. No. Maybe…You know, I haven't actually decided yet."
"And you've known this since our junior year?"
"Yes, when Veronica looked my parents' information up in one of her super spy databases. I never felt like I was in the right family. I can't explain it, Dick, it was just this gnawing feeling I've had ever since I can remember, but I just thought I was adopted."
"You and Cassidy had that in common, you know. He never felt like he belonged to our family, either." Dick looked down at the table as he said it, as though he couldn't bear to look at Mac when he said his brother's name.
"Yeah, I know. Believe me, we compared notes. Not about me being a Sinclair, of course, but we'd talked about feeling like we were born into the wrong families." Mac looked down and saw that she and Dick were still holding hands. This time it was her turn to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
"But in Cassidy's case I made him feel that way. Dad made him feel that way. It was a lot different from your situation." Dick waited a beat, and then softly added, "You're amazing, you know that, right? I can't blame Mrs. S for wanting you in her life, especially since she got the raw end of the deal to begin with." He raised his head again, this time looking into Mac's eyes.
"Raw deal? Maybe," Mac shrugged. "I've never been able to figure out if it was nurture or nature that made Madison, um, well, Madison."
"It's a mystery. I've always wondered how Mrs. Sinclair could have such a bitch for a daughter," Dick replied. "Madison, that is," he added as clarification. "Lauren is awesome. Now I think I know the answer to that."
"I don't think this explains that mystery at all, Dick. My mom, er 'Mom1' isn't a carrier of the bitch gene, either. I always thought maybe the Sinclairs spoiled her too much because they felt guilty or some Dr. Phil drivel like that."
"I wasn't calling Mrs. Mac, ah, your regular mom a bitch," Dick backtracked. "Mrs. Mac and I got along really well this summer. She's awesome."
"I know, I heard all about it. I'm not sure what spell you cast on her, but she really liked you."
"It's mutual." Dick said, adding, "I'm like a boy scout, moms love me!"
"Somehow I doubt that."
"I can bring the Casablancas charm when I want to. Remember my 15 minutes of humanity?"
"Oh, that's right. I forgot about that." Mac teased. She took another bite of her dinner, and waited until she was done chewing before softly adding, "So, now that you know my deep, dark secret are you going to run for the hills?"
Dick just stared at her for a few seconds, then shook his head in disgust. Once again Mac was able to read that change as it broadcast itself clearly on his face. "Maybe you don't know me as well as I thought you did. Why the hell would you think me, of all people, would hold this against you? You are as innocent of a victim as they come. My family tree can't exactly claim that."
"What about when I was still in the hospital? You went from camping out in the waiting room, to forgetting all about me."
Dick scoffed at Mac's last comment. "I screwed up, Mac. It's what I do. Remember? I'm sure Ronnie will be happy to remind you." He waited a beat, and then added, "Didn't we talk about this already? I didn't think you needed me anymore, but believe me, I never forgot about you. Your accident has been burned into my eyeballs since day one."
"And meanwhile I still can't remember a thing about that day. I guess I thought it would come back to me, eventually at least." Her voice got soft, and she added, "I'm still waiting."
"That's normal, isn't it? To not remember?"
"Yes, according to my doctors at least," Mac said. "They also thought it might be permanent. But I still hoped I'd get at least a little flash of memory by now."
"Not being able to remember the accident sounds like a good thing to me," Dick replied, thoughtfully. "There are so many things in my life I'd rather forget entirely. I wouldn't even be able to know where to start with that list."
"I really don't know. It's, well, it's weird, for lack of a better word. Everyone else has this vivid memory of this event that's still affecting every part of my life, and for me, it's a complete blank." As she said it, Mac knew that Veronica and Parker were the only other people in her world who could understand exactly what she was trying to say, but they weren't sitting across from her, Dick was. "And then we have the Hallmark Movie of the week aspect of my birth. That's the same exact thing. My parents—bio and "real" parents—remember vividly the events leading up to learning that they brought home the wrong baby. It's affected me my entire life, and yet I have zero recollection of that time because no one bothered to tell me. They had all the power, leaving me to deal with the fallout."
"I can't imagine that would be an easy thing to explain to a child. It's not really that easy to explain to an adult, either. They probably wanted to give you and Madison normal childhoods, as normal as things get in the Hellmouth of Neptune, at least."
"Normal! Well, the joke's on them," Mac said. She paused a moment, and then added, "Hellmouth? Yes, I'd definitely use that to describe this iniquitous hellhole."
"I can't take credit for that. Wallace was the one who suggested that Neptune is actually the real Hellmouth."
"Wallace?" Mac's tone was questioning.
"Wallace Fennel, star basketball player and Ronnie's bitch who always does her dirty work," Dick explained.
"I know who he is, thanks," Mac said dryly. "I just didn't realize you guys were friends."
"I lost the friendship bracelet he made me, but he's a good guy. We got to know each other better when you were in the hospital."
Mac pushed aside her plate, she'd managed to choke down most of it, despite the turn the dinner conversation had taken. The Eggplant Rollatini was delicious, it wasn't the food's fault that the stress of her day had taken an edge out of her normally robust appetite. Dick, on the other hand, earned the clean plate award. She watched him push his dish aside, too, as they waited for the waitress to bring them the bill.
A few minutes later the check was dropped off, and Dick dropped 3 one-hundred-dollar bills with the casualness of the '09'er that he was. "That includes the tip," he explained, though Mac hadn't asked.
Once they were back in Dick's truck he asked if she was still up to the dessert picnic idea with Ronnie and Logan.
"Of course," she assured him. "I always leave room for dessert."
While Dick went inside Java to order dessert and coffee for everyone, Mac stayed in the car. She dug her cell out of the depths of her small purse. She'd been waiting for the right time to look at Lauren's text.
Lauren: Hi Mac! It's Lauren. Thanks for your text earlier today. I was hoping to hear from you. We didn't really have a chance to talk today with the…well, you know. But maybe we could meet sometime next week? If you want to, if not I get it.
Me: Hi Lauren. Sounds fun! I'm free Thursday after 4. Would that work for you? Java maybe?
Mac hit send and stared intently at the screen as though she could Jedi-Mind trick an immediate response, and when the answering ping came right back, she wondered briefly if maybe that was exactly what had happened.
Lauren: How about Thursday at 4:30 at Java's? See you there?
Me: It's a date! See you there!
She must have still been smiling when Dick got back into his truck a few minutes later, laden down with bags and a drink tray.
"What's up with you? Did Ed McMahon just offer you a million dollars?" Dick teased as he passed the bags over to Mac to hold.
"Is Ed McMahon still alive?"
"Did his ghost just offer you a million dollars?" he amended.
"Even better," Mac said. "I have a coffee date with my bio sister." It felt liberating to be able to share that news out loud.
"Lauren is awesome! I always liked her a lot. She was always my favorite Sinclair, though now I guess I'll have to bump her to second place."
"I'm not becoming a Sinclair," Mac amended, "I'm still a Mackenzie, but I guess it's like I gained a bonus family?" Her tone was more a question than a statement towards the end. "I guess the rest of it we'll just make up as we go along."
"A bonus family sounds pretty good to me," Dick said wistfully.
Mac could hear the "or, any family at all" in Dick's voice, though he left that part unsaid.
A few minutes later they pulled up to the parking lot of Dog Beach.
The sun had already surrendered to the night, but the parking lot and beach beyond was well lit by the strategically placed gas light posts, and the almost full moon above.
Mac was just about to ask if Dick knew how far down the beach Logan and Veronica were, when she saw a flickering light from a campfire about a half a mile ahead.
"Will you protect me from Ronnie," Dick whispered in her ear as they made their way over there.
"You're a big boy, I think you can take care of yourself."
"But Ronnie has a taser," Dick said, with a slight whine.
"Doesn't Logan keep you safe?"
"He's more afraid of Ronnie than I am."
Mac laughed, but before she could further tease Dick about his healthy fear of her female bestie, the couple in question were shouting out to them.
"Q! We meet again!" Veronica shouted out, her arms waving like she was sending out a SOS signal.
"Bond! You came back to the Hellmouth!"
"Anything for my Q!" Veronica replied. Logan must have taken umbrage with that because she then quickly added, "And for Logan, of course! Is that better, little boy?"
"If he calls Ronnie mommy, I'm out of here," Dick whispered.
"I'll be right behind you," Mac assured him.
As soon as they reached their destination, Veronica quickly relieved Dick of the carry out bags. She eagerly reached in looking for the box with her slice of white chocolate raspberry cheesecake before handing the rest of the pastries back to Logan to finish passing out.
Once everyone had been handed their dessert and coffee, Mac settled down into one of the extra chairs Logan had supplied for their beach picnic. A slight breeze stirred up the scent of the fire. The waves breaking and the popping of the fire provided the background music. She took a big bite of her apple crisp.
A rustling sound beside her pulled Mac's attention away from her pastry. She looked over and saw Veronica arranging her chair beside her. "I think it's time for a little girl talk, Mackie-O!" She said by way of explanation.
"Girl talk, eh? How very Junior High."
"I had my cell with me the entire time, waiting for you to text the danger phrase, and so far, nada, zippo, zilch. Does that mean I can keep my taser holstered?"
"So far, at least. Dick has been on his best behavior."
"Sounds promising," Veronica said, this time in a more serious voice.
"I didn't even know you'd changed plans and decided to grace us all with your presence." Mac's voice held a mild rebuke. "For all I knew you were still in Palo Alto. How would you have been able to aid in my rescue?"
"Teleportation?" Veronica suggested. "My network is vast, you know this."
"Oh, right," Mac said, snapping her fingers. She paused, and then added, "Are we doing this 'girl talk' thing correctly?"
"Is there a wrong way?"
"I'll have to consult Teen People and get back to you, Vee."
Mac looked over at Dick and saw that Logan had roped him in to helping with fire maintenance. They were talking softly among themselves, Mac figured it was probably the male equivalent of their girl talk.
"That's okay. We can forge our own path, dare to be different. How did things go this morning? I believe you had brunch plans?"
"That was just today, wasn't it? It seems so much longer than that. The day that never ends." Mac said. It was the understatement of the year. Then, she added, "You don't have to talk in shorthand, Dick knows the whole sordid truth."
"Does he now? Well, then, how did brunch at the Sinclair's go? Stop leaving me in suspense."
"Very little bloodshed, surprisingly."
"That is surprising. I can't imagine that Madison took the news that she was from the lower zip code by birth right in stride."
"Well, it's only been 4 days since she learned the truth." Mac said, then quickly added upon seeing Veronica's scowl, "Not that I'm defending Madison overall, just in this one instance."
"No, no, I get it. We all know I'm not president of Madison's fan club, but this isn't exactly a normal situation."
"Not normal at all," Mac agreed. "Somehow, at the end, it became all my fault, in Madison's mind only. I can't for the life of me figure out her reasoning, but it's not like we ever shared a wavelength. Overall, it went okay, I guess. As okay as these things can go, at least."
Veronica must have got up during Mac's recap, but she was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed until her decidedly un-touchy feely best friend was hugging her. "I'm glad you don't have to live that lie anymore." Veronica said, before severing the embrace.
"Well, that's not entirely true," Mac confessed. "My mom—um, 'Mom1' as she's now known as in my head—still doesn't know that the switch was old news to me."
"Why?" Veronica seemed confused.
"I didn't want to hurt her. How do you explain that you hired your PI best friend to check up on your parents' finances because your entire life you've wondered why you never fit into your own frakking family?"
"I think you just did." Veronica said. "Maybe I ran across that info while digging into an unrelated case? Feel free to blame me, say anything you need to take the heat off yourself," she proposed.
"Maybe," Mac's tone was non-committal. "Thanks friend."
"I don't think she has to tell her parents anything," Dick said, his voice rising slightly to be heard over the roar of the surf and the crackling of the bonfire. "It's not Mackie's job to say anything about it, you know?"
Mac wasn't even aware Dick had been paying any attention to her and Veronica's weak attempt at a girly chat, though she was a little surprised to realize exactly how much his opinion mattered to her. That seemed to be happening a lot these days.
"I mean, it's just my opinion, my 25 cents, so take that for what it's worth," Dick continued. "Or don't take it, whatever."
"It's a penny for your thoughts, Dick," Veronica corrected. "Though I suppose even that's too much to pay, for your thoughts, at least."
"Inflation, Ronnie. Haven't they taught you anything at Stanford?"
It occurred to Mac that Logan probably hadn't been read into the conversation yet, and since everything was out in the open between the families, her unofficial oath of silence was no longer necessary. Honestly, that was a relief. She wasn't going to tell strangers on the street, or broadcast all over social media how her entire life had been ruled by a hospital error, but this was Logan, a friend, not just an acquaintance.
"Hey Logan, what did you guys do while waiting for Dick and me to ply you crazy kids with cheesecake and coffee?" Mac called over the fire. She decided to ease the conversation into her news, instead of diving in headfirst.
"I tended to the fire, you know, manly pursuits, while my lady here ate grapes and watched me labor." Logan teased.
"He needs to earn his keep somehow."
"That's right Sugarpuss," Logan directed the first part to Veronica, and then addressing the rest of the group, added "I'm just glad I got her on my turf again."
"Me, too," Mac agreed. "It was a nice surprise to see my bestie after the day I had."
Logan cocked his head, reminiscent of his girlfriend's trademark. "What kind of day was that?"
"Mentally exhausting, in a word. Well, the first half, that is. I have no complaints about the date part." Mac knew she was rambling. She glanced over at Dick and smiled. "I'll just come right out with it. Everyone else here knows the sordid tale by now. And now it's no longer a state secret, I guess. I went home from the hospital with the wrong family." Mac took a deep breath, and then unnecessarily added "when I was born, that is."
"What the actual hell?" Logan's voice rose at the end.
"Sounds like a made for TV movie, I know, but that's my life."
"It gets better," Dick added. "Ask her who she was switched with."
"Madison Sinclair," Mac rushed in to say before Veronica could say anything. The look of censure her friend flashed Dick didn't go unnoticed. His habit of blurting things out always irritated Vee, along with approximately 550 other things. "It's the Neptune disease," she added.
"Better?" Logan's voice was skeptical.
"Better as in the worst possible scenario ever," Dick explained. "Madison is essentially the anti-Mac. Or is it the other way?"
"Mac's the anti-Madison," Veronica corrected.
"Did you break a mirror recently, or something?" Logan asked. "You've had a lot of bad luck come your way. And to think, in high school I always thought you had a white-picket fence family."
Mac scoffed and then shrugged but didn't say anything to that. What could she say? There were parts of her life lately that could be termed bad luck, but on the flip side, she could argue she'd had a lot of good luck come her way, too. She'd survived a bad accident, Veronica was geographically back in her life, at least in short-term bursts; she now had a legit claim to her bio sister, Lauren, and maybe best of all was her not-yet-defined relationship with Dick. They always seemed to defy definition at every turn, so why should this new step be any different?
"Do you think if the switch had never happened, you and Dick would have dated in high school?" Logan asked a couple of minutes later, breaking up the silence that had briefly settled over everyone. It was a question that had only semi-recently occurred to Mac. After her coma-dream, or whatever the hell her time in the sandbox dimension was, she was thinking the answer was yes. Before then, her answer probably would have been a resounding hell no!
There were so many avenues that question could go down, and everyone had their own opinion. Veronica looked nauseous. Of course, how could that innocent question not affect her? Logan seemed to know that instinctively. From what Mac could tell by the firelight, Logan's eyes were locked on Veronica, watching for signs of her distress. That was his factory setting after all.
What if the switch had never happened, then maybe Dick wouldn't have drugged her drink, and maybe Cassidy wouldn't have had the opportunity to rape her unconscious friend? Once again, Mac thought back to the dreamworld. In that historic rewrite she and Dick were never at Shelly Pomroy's fateful party at all their sophomore year. That important question had been answered by Dick rambling memories about aunt visits and watching chick flicks. Unfortunately, it still seemed like Cassidy had still gone to the party, but she, as Madison that is, had played no role in anything that happened to her best friend. There was no rewrite button in existence though. If there were, that was one historic event in real life that she would have used it on.
The accident itself was a big blank, but Mac could almost recite the events of her coma dream word for word. It was a mindfuck to the third power.
Reconciling the high school Dick with the college 2.0 version hadn't happened overnight. Inner pain, grief, and guilt changed a person deeply, Mac and all her Neptune survivor friends were all living proof of that. As she got to know Logan's alcohol-soaked roomie better, the periods she'd taken to calling his 15 minutes of humanity started increasing in frequency. Then the accident happened, and Dick proved to be a true friend, not of the pseudo label she'd previously marked him with. Despite their sordid history from high school, the inexcusable things he did to people back then, and the connection they both had with Dick's deceased, murdering baby brother, all that combined to bring them to tonight, their first date. She knew with 100% certainty there would be no Y if X had not happened.
"Yes, I think so," Mac finally replied. "Everyone kept asking me what my coma was like, and did I remember any dreams. That is a surreal question, but I guess they wanted to know if it was like a big black nothingness, like an extra-long nap. I get it, it's not like a normal thing everyone is lucky enough to experience." Her sarcastic default peaked in towards the end of the sentence.
"I know I asked you something like that when you first woke up. I didn't mean to be rude," Veronica quickly chimed in.
"It wasn't rude," Mac amended. "I never thought that. Hell, I'd ask the same thing if God forbid roles had been reversed. Now that everyone knows about my Lifetime Movie of the Week birth, I wanted to come clean about one more thing."
"Come clean? How many gothic secrets can one person have, Mackie?" Dick asked.
"Infinite, this is Neptune after all," Logan replied, speaking on Mac's behalf.
"It's not quite a gothic secret," Mac hedged, "but I had the strangest coma dream after the accident. I dreamed that I had hit my head at Cheerleading practice and woke up as Madison Sinclair. I was still me, I looked like myself, but I lived in Madison's house. Instead of that rust bucket death trap, I drove a Cadillac. Lauren was my younger sister. I had a maid, that part was fun once I got used to it. Anyway, we were all back in junior year at Neptune High. It felt…real, I guess, not like a dream at all." She kept her gaze focused on the fire, tracking the dancing of the flames against the soft breeze kicking up from the ocean. "Dick and I were dating, apparently. V, we became friends in that life, too. People whose names I didn't even know in real life were suddenly my best friends. Jackson Douglas, for one. Um, Meg was alive. Madison was known as Cindy, not Mac. She lived in my house. My own parents, the ones that raised me that is, didn't even know who I was. Dad, ah, 'Dad1' was a contractor who did work for the Sinclairs." Her voice trailed off. She took a deep breath, let it out, and quietly added "Most mind bending of all, though, is that I know things in this real world I shouldn't even know. For example, just like the coma dream world, the Sinclairs really do have a maid named Lucille. I also became friends with their black and white tuxedo cat, Fritz. I met the real Fritz today, and he's identical to the one that slept in my bed in dreamworld."
At first Mac was afraid she'd rendered everyone speechless; the silence rose up, becoming a living entity in that moment. She added, "This is the part where you all tell me I'm losing my mind."
"No! Oh Q, no, you're not losing your mind." Veronica rushed to reassure her. "There have been countless studies out there where doctors have concluded that people in a coma can, and do, have very vivid dreams. It's normal."
"Okay," Mac said thoughtfully, "that may be true, but how do you explain all the things I got right if this was just a dream?"
"Collective subconscious?" Veronica proposed.
"The third dimension?" Logan suggested.
Mac shrugged. It defied all rational thought.
"So, did Logan and I hate each other?" Veronica asked, trying to sound casual, but she failed at that attempt.
"Ha! I don't know who you think you're fooling, Bond! You two were making out within the first month of my strange new life. It was déjà vu all over again. You know, like it always is."
"And always will be," Dick added.
"We're epic, Bobcat. Remember? We span years and continents, and even alternate dimensions apparently." Logan followed that declaration up with a growl.
"Oh, right!" Veronica replied, snapping her fingers. "How could I forget?"
"What about the Purity Test? I guess with the Cadillac you didn't need to raise funds for that sporty Beetle," Logan asked.
"Well, I guess the new "Cindy" tried, and failed to sell the purity test results. I didn't get the full story, but Wallace, who was still helping the secretary with admin tasks, told me a little bit about how she tried to hire someone to do the programming. The lesson there is never outsource your coding."
"Wallace! What was he like in your coma world?" Veronica asked.
Mac heard the wistful tone in her friend's voice. "Wallace is the same in every dimension, hilarious, helpful and someone you definitely want in your corner," she stated.
"I got a 19." Dick said.
Mac just looked at him, confused by the non-sequitur.
"Are you in the right conversation, Casablancas?"
"I am. Thanks for your concern, Ronnie, but Mackie asked me earlier tonight what my purity score was. I forgot to answer her."
"Ducked the question, is what I think you mean," Mac corrected, "but you're right, that is a prime number."
"Business major. Remember?" Dick replied. Then, attempting to steer the conversation from the Purity Test, he added "I think you mentioned something to me about a coma dream when you were still in the hospital. I don't remember anything about you and Madison doing the Freaky Friday switch around though."
"It sounded crazy, Dick. It still does. I guess I didn't want to be transferred to the mental health floor. Besides, I was still in so much pain, I didn't have the strength to explain my weird, gossamer link to Madison. You know?"
She saw him flinch a little bit when she mentioned how badly she hurt those first few days after she woke up from the coma. Fortunately, the pain was largely behind her now, except for the migraines she was still suffering from.
"I get it, Mac. No worries. I was just curious, that's all. There's one more thing, did you, ah, see Cassidy?" Dick's voice was so quiet when he mentioned his brother's name, she could hardly hear him. His gaze was directed at the fire light, too, like he also found the dancing flames held the answers to the universe.
"Yes." Mac replied. She reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze.
"Oh." Dick murmured.
Mac could tell he wanted to ask her so much more about Cassidy, but he was also afraid to break open the gates of his tenuously held emotions. She wasn't sure when she first started being so attuned to Dick, of all people in her life. Maybe it could all be traced back to their gaming marathons where she learned how to kick his electronic ass so effectively, like an assassin in the night. Honestly, she knew the biggest reason was their iron clad link to Cassidy. They still had corners of their hearts that mourned the damaged boy they both loved. It was a piece of them that they hid away from other people in their lives, in deference to the fact that Cassidy had been the instrument of pain for so many lives, theirs included, of course. His carnage stretched its tentacles through every corner of Neptune, and beyond.
"It was so hard to be around him, knowing what I did about him." Mac confessed, her voice soft, as she looked down.
"I can't even imagine." Dick returned the squeeze, comforting her even though the pain Cassidy's name released had to pierce him much deeper than her.
Mac suspected what he said wasn't true though. Dick probably had his own do-over dreams about the broken boy who fractured everyone's hearts.
"I don't want to talk about coma dreams anymore," Mac leaned over to whisper to Dick. A glance over her other shoulder showed that Veronica and Logan had also checked out of the conversation. They were conversing non-verbally, an art they excelled in.
"Me either. I can propose other topics that are more suited to bonfires."
"A ghost story?" Mac suggested.
"No, even better. Kissing Ghost World!"
"Dick," Mac screeched, and ignoring the promise of an impending kiss, punched him hard on his arm. If there were going to be any more dates, she had to break him of that insulting high school nickname. "Stop calling me that!"
"Sorry," Dick said, though his voice was anything but contrite. "How about we kiss and make up?" He plopped down onto the sand in front of his beach chair and proceeded to pull Mac into his lap. Not waiting for a reply, his lips found hers.
Mac opened her mouth in entry, merging into Dick, as everything else was regulated to the background.
There was nothing pseudo about her feelings towards the guy whose tongue was exploring her mouth.
TBC…
***Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!***