A/N: This story is almost finished! This is the last chapter, not including a not-so-brief epilogue, and then it'll be time to mark it complete! Finally! This chapter is mostly just fluff. I do hope these last several chapters have been worth the wait. It's always been my intent to finish this story, admittedly I didn't think it would take me THIS LONG to accomplish that goal. I'll be posting the epilogue on June 6th (for that full-circle effect).
There is a time jump in this chapter. It fast forwards a few months, we're now in 2010. Chapter title is a lyric from White Wedding, by Billy Idol, fittingly enough. And I'd like to give a BIG, HUGE thank you to the best-est beta ever, cainc3!
Chapter 32—It's a nice day to start again
*******Saturday, February 13, 2010. Mac and Parker's apartment*****
"I knew we should have just met our guys there," Parker said, poking her head into the doorway of Mac's bathroom. "We're going to be so late." She ran a hand down her flower-patterned black dress, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle.
"Relax," Mac said, tilting her head up so she was looking at her roommate through the mirror. She grabbed the mascara wand and proceeded to accentuate her sparse eyelashes. "You're acting like you're the one getting married."
"Oof! Bite your tongue. I'm not even going to think about getting married until I'm at least 28, but no older than 32," Parker announced.
"No, thanks. I like my tongue in its current pristine condition," Mac returned, smirking. "And why 28? That's oddly specific."
"I said at least 28," Parker corrected. "But any older than 32 is too old."
"Again, I ask, why those ages in particular?"
"Goldilocks."
"As in the three bears?" Mac's face showed her confusion at Parker's left field reply.
"Those ages are considered just right, you know, not too old, nor too young."
"Where do you get these warped ideas?"
"Cosmopolitan Magazine."
"Say no more," Mac ordered. When Parker started to open her mouth, she followed up with "I mean it, say no more."
"What? They have interesting articles," Parker defended, overruling Mac's request to drop the subject.
"If that's what Cosmo is selling, I'm not buying. There's no time limit on love and marriage." Mac said, grabbing a tube of mauve lipstick. She applied it, puckering her lips in the mirror, and appraising her hair. She decided she looked presentable, perhaps even a step above.
"Yes, you are ready for your close-up, Ms. Demille," Parker teased, dipping down to access her inner drama geek.
"You're looking quite glamorous yourself, Ms. Lee," Mac returned the compliment. She turned away from the mirror, glancing critically down at her purple dress. She pulled down on the accompanying black jacket, so it hung evenly on her. The matching shoes, with their elevated platforms gave her an extra couple of inches in height. "Maybe I should text Dick to get an ETA."
"Don't bother," Parker said. "I got a text from Piz about twenty minutes ago, it said they'd be here in five minutes. We all know who the holdup is."
"Dick," they both said in unison. Then, "jinx," came the reply, also spoken in tandem.
"We've roomed together too long, apparently, since we now share a brain," Mac muttered.
"Ah, an upgrade for you." Parker teased, laughing at the glare she'd received in return.
"Funny," Mac returned, dryly.
"I thought so," Parker smirked. "It is to me," she said shrugging her shoulders.
Mac and Parker settled down on the new purple faux leather (pleather) couch, which had been a housewarming gift from Mac's bio parents. She didn't like accepting expensive gifts, especially from the Sinclairs, however, the fact remained they did need a place to sit, and the couch was much nicer than the orange and green plaid threadbare one at the Goodwill that fit her and Parker's minimal budget. Mac was sure it was something she'd never fully get used to, nor did she ever want to get to the point where she was happily living off the hard work of her (bio) family, and not her own work. She had to admit though, she loved that sofa.
Mac was happy to finally be living on her own again. It had been a big adjustment moving back with her parents after the accident, but there hadn't been any choice in that matter. The list of tasks she'd had to relearn was lengthy, and it had been a very painful process, literally and figuratively. However, all that was largely in the rear-view mirror now, and her recovery had progressed far beyond what her team of doctors had aimed for.
The apartment she and Parker had found was on the 3rd floor of a stately old red brick building in downtown Neptune, in one of the recently gentrified areas of town. Roughly translated, that meant the building management was using the new renovations to justify charging grossly inflated prices. She and Parker had been gifted a serious discount on their monthly rent, which she knew was thanks to her newly minted connection to a certain oh-niner family. She preferred to think of it as being oh-niner adjacent. The building was safe, with state-of-the-art security, and had a doorwoman, too. Mac was a believer in not looking a gift horse in the mouth—giant wooden horse statues big enough to hold a Greek Army notwithstanding. After what happened to Parker their freshperson year at Hearst, safety was an important amenity in their housing quest, and this place checked every box they were looking for, plus a few extra boxes to boot.
Mac loved the wooden floors, exposed brick walls, industrial pipe ceiling, and massive stone fireplace that dominated half of a wall in their cavernous living room. The kitchen was a chef's dream with its Viking appliances and shimmering green quartz counter tops, which she had already bequeathed to Parker, whose culinary talents extended far beyond her own ability to boil water, brew coffee, make Cajun-ed toast, and little else.
She wasn't the type to be bought and sold, but a nice couch and a healthy discount on rent were impossible to resist.
A knock at the door interrupted Mac's mental tour of her new domicile. She gave her roommate a meaningful look. Parker glared at her, but still got up to let their dates in.
"Did you get lost?" Parker asked in lieu of a greeting as she escorted Piz and Dick into the apartment.
"It takes time to look this good," Piz snarked ironically, before leaning down to kiss his girlfriend.
Mac snickered; she'd always thought his hair looked like he'd overslept and forgot to brush it. Tonight was no exception.
Dick maneuvered around the couple, and took a seat next to Mac, so he could give her his own greeting. The kiss mollified her, at least a little bit.
"We all know you were the real hold up," Mac whispered to Dick, after she'd severed her lips from his.
"It takes time to look this good," Dick echoed.
"Hey, get your own original material," Piz volleyed back.
"I think it's more like you stole a page from my playbook," Dick corrected.
"Are we going to sit around and fight about who has the better hair, or do we have a wedding to go to?" Parker interjected.
"There's no need to argue, we all know who would win," Dick replied. "Me," he added before anyone else could say a word.
Mac turned around and caught Dick studying her. "What?"
"You look hot, you're rocking that dress, Mackie-O," he whispered. He dug through one of the pockets of his black blazer, until he unearthed a small jewelry box.
Mac knew how Dick's brain worked and she knew it wasn't an engagement ring, but beyond that she didn't have any guesses to its content. He handed it to her while muttering something along the lines of happy early Valentine's Day. Like a child, he was too eager to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.
Mac gave him a pleased smile in return. She opened the box; it was a heart shaped pendent with a computer keyboard and a white fluffy mouse superimposed on it. It was the finest in computer geek couture jewelry, and she couldn't shake the feeling she'd seen the pendent before. The where's and why's were alluding her. "Thank you," she said finding her voice and manners.
Dick took it out of the box and fastened it around her neck, before getting up off the couch, and offering a hand to Mac so she could pull herself up, too.
The four of them left the apartment and made their way towards Dick's truck parked in the alley behind the building.
***********************Neptune Night's Banquet Hall***********************
They arrived at the banquet hall fifteen minutes later and found a seat on Mr. Mars' half of the small chapel. They had just taken their seats when the music changed over to Pachelbel's Canon in D. The bridesmaids took that as their cue to make their way to the dais up front. Mac gave Dick a reproachful glance, channeling her annoyance at him for their late entrance. Dick shrugged his broad shoulders and didn't appear remorseful.
Mac smiled as Veronica, the maid of honor, walked down the aisle. She looked beautiful in a pale blue floor length strapless dress. Logan was standing on the platform, next to Wallace, who as the best man, was stationed to the right side of the groom. Mac was surprised and judging from Dick's expression he hadn't known Logan was chosen to be a groomsman either. Apparently, the groom had finally accepted that his daughter's on-again/off-again boyfriend was a permanent fixture in her life, which was a common side effect of soulmate-itis, a condition she was starting to wonder if she herself had been afflicted with it.
As the music swelled, every guest in attendance stood up and Alicia Fennel started her march down the aisle, towards her future as Mrs. Keith Mars. Mac admired the older woman's long ivory gown with a lace overlay and plunging neckline, it looked beautiful against her golden-brown skin tone. Alicia's smile was radiant. Her hair was knotted in an elaborate French twist, which Mac suspected was Veronica's handiwork.
Mac took the opportunity to look around the small, intimate chapel. The cherry wood floors, rough-hewn timber shiplap, and exposed beam ceiling with faux antler light fixtures hanging from the rafters gave the chapel a rustic lodge vibe. She estimated the capacity of the room to be a maximum of 75 people and she was sure they were well beyond the outer reaches of that number. It might have been a macabre habit but growing up in Neptune taught her the importance of having a safety plan for every possible contingency.
Mac continued to look around the chapel, she was hoping to spot her bio sister among the crowd. Kyle's dad was Alicia's boss at Kane Software, so their entire family had been invited. Lauren had been chosen to be their "plus one."
Ever since the brunch gathering in September, the Mackenzies and Sinclairs had continued their quest to merge the two families together, it was a modern spin on the Brady Bunch. As time passed, their new blended family arrangement became smoother. 'Mom1' had finally committed to a smoking cessation day back in January and had followed through with it. The bi-weekly tradition of Sunday dinner had continued as well. Despite the extra cost of spending more time with Madison than any human should have to endure, it was a price Mac was willing to pay since it also came with the reward of forging a real world (read: non-coma dream) relationship with Lauren. However, she had to admit even Madison was thawing out a little bit, she'd even relaxed her stance on Mac being in it for a payout. She'd also quit casting blame for the whole situation solely on Mac. They hadn't exchanged friendship bracelets, and probably never would, but it was a start.
Baby steps.
Mac spotted a girl with long black hair across the aisle, and three rows down from where they were sitting. She turned around as though tuning into Mac's thought frequency, giving confirmation that the girl was indeed Lauren Sinclair. The two of them exchanged smiles.
The ceremony went quickly, and afterwards everyone was invited into the adjacent ballroom for the reception. The rustic lodge theme followed them into the next room, with the same exposed timber beams, and wooden plank floors, but the antler light fixtures had been replaced with sconces affixed to the walls, and copious strands of white Christmas lights wrapped around each beam. The tables—with their red tablecloths, and centerpieces of red rose wreaths encircling ornate golden candle holders—were anything but homespun. A DJ booth was set up on the opposite side of the open bar, next to the dance floor. The cake, 4 tiers tall, was displayed on a table set up in the middle of the vast space. It was festooned with red icing flowers pipped around each level, with a big red heart cake topper, paying homage to the Valentine's theme.
Dick went straight to the bar, timing it so he was the first person in line. He came back with a tray laden down with a Scotch on the rocks for himself, two glasses of red wine, and a bottle of Bud Light. Mac was standing near the entry way talking to her sister and Kyle.
"Take an Uber home," Dick instructed before handing off the beer, and one of the wine glasses to Kyle and Lauren. He handed the second glass of wine to Mac.
"Thanks man," Kyle replied, then added, "don't worry, my dad's driving."
"You didn't get the drinks from me," Dick declared. After noticing his girlfriend's look of censure, he added, "What Mackie? You know I always practice plausible deniability."
"Contributing to the delinquency of minors, tsk, tsk," Mac teased, wagging her finger at Dick.
She laughed at the mocking glare Lauren aimed at her. "The truth hurts, L."
"I'm 16, Kyle just turned 17, it's not like we're children," Lauren reminded her sister.
"I guess it is a festive occasion, after all." Mac acquiesced.
After the holidays had passed, and Mac had started rooming with Parker again, she and Dick had been hanging out a lot with Lauren and Kyle on weekends. It wasn't as though they'd grown up together, like in the coma dream, but it still felt as though they'd known each other a lot longer than five months. Mac really liked her sister's boyfriend. Kyle was cute, with his black, curly hair and tall physique, they complimented each other well, both in looks and personality.
It didn't escape her notice how protective Dick was of the younger couple. He was still drowning in guilt from how he'd treated his brother, and Mac suspected he'd never totally get out from under that invisible albatross that clung to his soul. He would always be chasing that do-over.
As the four of them sipped their drinks, and chatted, the reception room filled up with more guests.
Dick wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders.
Due to the closer proximity, Mac caught a whiff of the scotch in Dick's glass. She wrinkled her nose involuntarily. "That stinks."
"It's so smooth going down, much more so than those fermented grapes you like to drink."
"Fermented grapes, what a great description. You really make wine sound delicious, what an epicurean you are, Dick!" Lauren mocked.
"Delicious," Mac agreed. She and her sister clinked glasses. "Cheers to fermented grapes and happily ever afters." She took a sip of wine.
"Cheers," Lauren repeated, and then took a small sip of her own wine. She swallowed, before adding, "nice necklace." She reached out to grab Mac's new necklace. "A mouse for our favorite computer guru. How fitting."
"It's my Valentine's Day gift from Dick," she effused.
"I couldn't wait until tomorrow," Dick admitted. "It just seemed like Mackie; you know."
"Definitely," Lauren agreed. "Very cute."
Kyle nodded his agreement.
Suddenly Mac remembered where she'd seen that exact necklace, her double date at Luigi's in the coma dream world. Every time that weird been there, done that feeling enveloped her these days it was always traceable back to her alternate dimension.
The more time that passed the more convinced she became that she'd been bequeathed the rare opportunity to sample the life she'd missed out on, and choose which reality she wanted to dwell in. She squeezed the pendent between her fingers, it was a grounding gesture.
Mac wondered whatever happened to that dimension. Did it survive? Did she? Her last conscious thought had been centered on some type of boiler explosion that had rocked Neptune High. That tragic event hadn't bled into this current dimension, but it did seem to be the catalyst that launched her back headfirst into her real world.
She took a big sip of her wine.
"Whoa, pace yourself drunkie," Dick whispered in her ear. "Are you okay?"
"Just body slammed by my friend déjà vu."
"Sounds painful!"
"I'm used to it by now." Mac lied. She didn't want to delve further into it with Lauren so close by. She hadn't really mentioned the coma dream to anyone outside of Dick, Veronica, and Logan, and she planned to keep it that way. It wasn't easy explaining something to other people that she didn't understand herself.
"Oh, I wanted to let you know that Kyle and I have been watching One Piece. We're halfway through the season 2 box set. I think he's hooked on it now," Lauren stated, interrupting Mac's ruminations.
"Yes, it's awesome," Kyle enthused.
"Agreed. Mackie's got us watching season 3," Dick said, one upping the younger couple. He further sold it by sticking out his tongue.
"I knew we'd be able to educate these men of ours," Mac snarked, high fiving Lauren's hand.
Parker and Piz finally joined the group, beers in hand. They'd been stuck in the long bar line. The three couples staked their claim on an open table. Mac arranged herself between Dick and Lauren.
About 20 minutes later, Veronica, Logan and Wallace plotted their own escape from the obligatory wedding party photo shoot, stealing a few chairs from a neighboring table so they'd have somewhere to sit.
Dick started teasing Logan about his promotion to groomsman. Apparently, Logan and Keith were getting closer. It only took the third iteration of dating for Keith to accept that Logan truly loved his daughter, and like it or lump it, Logan was there to stay. He'd ultimately decided to like it, Mac suspected it was probably at Alicia's nudging.
Members of the catering company started circulating trays of hot appetizers.
"Don't worry, Q, there's some lettuce leaves coming around, for my favorite token veg head." Veronica said, apparently noticing Mac was tracking the progress of the waitstaff as they worked the room.
"Aw, thanks, Bond. I appreciate how you are always looking out for my dietary needs."
"It's a tough job, I know, but someone has to do it," Veronica volleyed back. "There was a reason they nominated me food consultant."
"More like it was a self-appointed role, sis," Wallace corrected.
"Well, no one is more qualified for that job than Ronnie," Dick added.
"Who said you could talk back?" Veronica said, addressing her comment to Dick, her eyes narrowed in reproach. "You're too low on the food chain to address me."
"Don't worry, Bobcat left her taser at home," Logan reassured everyone, but his gaze landed on Dick.
"It's in the car," Veronica amended. "Easily accessible should the need arise, and with Dick, the need often arises." She explained to the group.
Their bickering was interrupted by one of the catering staff presenting a tray of stuffed mushrooms, including a small, divided section of vegan sautéed mushroom pockets. Mac took the small appetizer plate from the place setting in front of her and used the tongs to grab a couple of the savory pastries from the serving platter.
Veronica's plate was full after the same waiter made his second visit to their group, that time he was offering vegan and regular mini corn dogs.
"What? I'm hungry. Breakfast was hours ago," Veronica grumbled, after seeing her friend's raised brow.
"I didn't say a word," Mac said, pantomiming zipping her lips.
"You didn't have to," Veronica stated.
"Our faces sell us out every time," Lauren interjected. "It's the Cole curse, our mom's side of the family." She looked over at Mac but was addressing the whole group. Her hand reached out to grab a vegan dog off Mac's plate, winking at the glare she received in return for her theft.
"Your sister is so cute," Parker said to Mac in a stage whisper from across the table. She cupped her mouth with her hands.
"Eh. She's okay, I guess," Mac teased. "I tolerate her pretty well." She laughed when Lauren punched her in the arm. "That'll probably leave a bruise," she groused, this time speaking directly to her sister.
Lauren winked and shrugged her shoulders.
"Speaking of food, what's on the menu?" Piz asked, before popping another mini corndog into his mouth.
"The better question is what is not on the menu," Wallace replied. "If you can't find something to fill you up, you're just not trying hard enough."
"Mom won't let anyone starve," Veronica agreed, a soft smile peaked through as she spoke.
"Especially you, Superfly," Wallace added. "Mom ordered extras of everything, just in case."
"Just in case what? A zombie apocalypse?" Dick hypothesized. "A swarm of Locusts?"
"Water turning into blood," Logan added. "Pestilence, famine."
"You guys keep forgetting this is the hellmouth," Wallace maintained. "Any, and all, of those are likely scenarios. However, the doomsday situation I was alluding to was in case Veronica decided to go for thirds, or maybe even fourths."
"Et Tu Brute?" Veronica asked as she raised her arms, before settling her left hand on her heart dramatically, as though mortally wounded.
Wallace shrugged in return. "If you can't beat them, join them, as our mom always says."
"What do I always say?" A new voice interjected. Mac turned around to see Alicia and Mr. Mars joining the group. Alicia's younger son, Darryl, was trailing behind. She'd seen Wallace's brother on Thanksgiving but hadn't talked to him much. She figured he was in middle school by now, probably 6th or 7th grade.
"Nothing mom, we were just talking about what was on the menu, and my sister's endless appetite."
"Italian food," Mr. Mars replied, before adding, "her metabolism comes from Lianne's side of the family."
"I think I'll stick to salad myself, I need to keep my girlish figure," Alicia added. She tucked a renegade strand of her hair, which had made its escape from the up do, behind her right ear.
"A salad?" Mr. Mars said in mock horror. "No wife of mine will eat a salad. You are perfect just the way you are. That's why you're my trophy wife," he continued, leaning over, and giving his wife a kiss on her cheek.
"Now, now, no PDA guys!" Wallace admonished his parents. "Save it for tonight, when I'm far, far away, tucked snugly into my bed, my innocence intact."
That exchange didn't have the desired effect on their parents, who quickly pivoted from a chaste cheek kiss, to a deeper, soulful one on the lips. Keith's hands tracked further down until his hands were cupping Alicia's butt.
As Wallace covered Darryl's eyes, he gave a token screech of protest but didn't push the hands away.
Fortunately, the newly married couple's show of affection was cut off by one of the groomsmen's announcements urging the remaining guests to find an open table. He explained the hardworking catering staff would soon be going around the room, releasing the guests table by table for their turn through the buffet. Mac thought the man's name was Cliff, a Balboa County District Attorney. She'd seen him bail Veronica out of assorted jams through the course of their friendship. Fortunately, she hadn't personally needed his services.
The new Mr. and Mrs. Mars and the rest of the wedding party took that as their cue to say their goodbyes before making their way to the head table in the front of the ballroom.
As Mac's group waited for their turn in the food line, Dick started giving Kyle and Lauren college advice. Piz and Parker jumped in occasionally to add a tip or overrule something Dick had just spouted off about. Mac was content to just sit back and listen. A lot of the advice centered on social events, more than academic pursuits, but it was still funny to listen to her boyfriend dispense his vast wisdom to the younger couple.
The Italian food theme of the buffet meshed perfectly with the continuous stream of Frank Sinatra songs the DJ continued playing as the dinner time soundtrack. Mac recognized My Way pipping in from the strategically placed speakers framing the massive space.
Finally, it was their table's turn for the buffet line. Their waiter directed them where to go.
Mac grabbed a dinner plate from the stack in front of her, taking a generous portion of winter squash ravioli, then she ladled out a big scoop of mushroom risotto, and finally the house salad with balsamic vinaigrette. Being vegan, she had fewer foods from which to choose, so to counter that, Mac just took larger portions. She observed Dick take a large slice of Veal Marsala, an overflowing scoop of garlic mashed potatoes, and a very small amount of sauteed spinach. She knew he only did that for her benefit, so she wouldn't nudge him towards a higher veggie ratio to counteract the meat.
As they made their way back to the table, Dick took Mac's plate from her.
"Thanks," she murmured. "What?"
"I didn't say a word," Dick replied, replacing his look of surprise with one of mock innocence.
"You didn't need to: you just gave me a really strange look when I thanked you for your act of chivalry," Mac explained.
"Last time I checked, strange looks aren't against the law."
"Maybe they should be," Mac retorted.
"I was just bracing myself for a feminist rant, that's all."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Dick, but I'm fresh out of rants right now. Raincheck?"
"No, thanks," Dick said just as they arrived back at their table. He placed her plate in front of her chair, before setting down his own dish. "I'm not worthy of one of your rants. Save them for other, more deserving, souls."
As the rest of their tablemates came back with their own full plates, conversation became slow, and measured as eating became the main occupation. Mac smiled as she watched Dick lean over to steal a bite of Lauren's Sea Bass when she was busy responding to something Kyle had whispered in her ear.
"Hey! I saw that," Lauren grumped when she'd noticed Dick's hand retreating, and a large piece of her fish missing.
"Well, you know, being the epicurean that I am, I had to make sure it was up to high standards," Dick mocked.
"So, I should be thanking you for stealing my food?" Lauren queried.
"Yes," Dick confirmed.
"Does it pass inspection?" Kyle asked, his own fork poised above his girlfriend's meal.
"It does," Dick answered.
Apparently, that was the only endorsement needed, since Kyle followed Dick's lead, and took his own healthy bite of Lauren's fish. Her only counter response was to spear off a bite of her boyfriend's lasagna.
Mac noticed Dick didn't even attempt to sample her risotto or ravioli. She wasn't really surprised by that. He still wasn't up to the challenge of embracing a meat/fish free lifestyle despite her continued attempts to properly train him.
After all talk of food thievery was put to rest, conversation slowed back down to barely a trickle as everyone concentrated on finishing their carb heavy meals. The wait staff circulated the room with coffee pots. Mac turned her and Dicks' cups right side up in anticipation. When their waiter finally made his way to their table with a carafe, she smiled as Dick asked for a pitcher of soy milk. She'd have to rethink her assertion that he wasn't yet trained, maybe some of her gentle guidance had paid off.
After dinner service was over, and the last notes of Come Fly with Me faded away, the DJ switched over to up-tempo dance hits. After a few more songs played on, the wedding party left the head table and started dispersing among the guests. Veronica, Wallace, and Logan meandered over to Mac's table, as the newlyweds headed to the dance floor to take their traditional first dance.
As soon as the bride and groom stepped onto the raised dance floor, the DJ queued up a romantic ballad from a big haired 80s hard rock band. It reminded Mac of one of the songs 'Dad1' used to play for Ryan when he was a baby. It was what passed as a lullaby in the Mackenzie household.
Mac was certain that Madison and Lauren had more of a Brahms babyhood.
Logan, Wallace, and Dick were talking about graduation, which was coming up too fast. Piz added a few things here and there to the conversation, but he mostly joined in on Parker and Veronica's discussion about Stanford. Kyle had taken Lauren over to his parents' table as soon as they were finished eating.
Mac, on the other hand, was content to just people watch and listen to the conversations swirling around her. She was trying to come to terms with the fact that her own graduation date was pushed out an additional semester. She'd been forced to lighten her course load Fall semester, and this one as well, all due to her accident. She took a sip of coffee and attempted to hide her brooding.
"Hey, Mack-Attack, what's your life plan after we're sprung from Hearst?" Wallace asked. He apparently didn't see the cut motion Dick made in a lame attempt at getting him to shut down that line of questioning.
"Ix-nay on the graduation alk-tay," Dick said, since his charades-like gesturing didn't seem to do the trick.
"It's okay Dick, I speak fluent ig-pay atin-lay," Mac interjected. "I'm having so much fun at Hearst I thought I'd stick around another semester. What about you? What's the next stage in your life?"
"Uh, still trying to figure it out," Wallace said, back-peddling. "Maybe I'll take a gap year before getting my master's degree in education. No reason to figure it out right now."
Mac figured that Wallace was trying to reassure her while thinly disguising it as a comment directed towards his own life. She gave a non-committal grunt, and Wallace went back to his conversation with Logan.
The last notes of Bon Jovi's I'll be There for You faded, and the DJ invited the guests to join the newlyweds out on the dance floor. The throbbing bass of the next song wrapped itself around the room, luring wedding guests out onto the floor.
Mac slit her eyes at Dick, but he deliberately avoided looking at her. She wasn't sure why she was annoyed at him; he'd only been trying to keep her friends from reminding her of something that had been bothering her for several weeks. It was too late at that point anyway. She'd already been ruminating on it; a subject change wasn't going to derail that thought train.
Dick grabbed Mac's hand, and whispered "Let's dance, grumpy."
"Gee, how can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?" Mac snickered.
Dick pulled her to her feet with an overexaggerated grunt as though it was a tougher job than it really was, and led her over to the dance floor. Mac heaved a sigh, giving him the impression that it was an inconvenience. A genuine smile pushed through when she saw Lauren and Kyle dancing closer together than the song required. She and Dick sidled up to them.
Mac leaned over and whispered in Lauren's ear. "This song wouldn't be my first pick for a slow dance, sis." She shook her hips to the beat as Pink sang about parties.
"We're rebels like that," Kyle replied, answering for his girlfriend.
"At least we're not Raising the Roof like your date," Lauren added.
"Good point," Mac readily agreed. She shook her head at the spectacle her date was making. Of course, it wasn't any less than anyone would expect from him, herself included.
"It's a classic wedding dance move," Dick justified, as he continued to raise his arms in the air as though he were indeed raising a roof.
Right before Mac had the chance to make a quick excuse so she could slink off, and distance herself from Dick's poor excuse for "dancing," Etta James overtook the airwaves. Dick closed the gap and pushed her gently into his broad chest. Her arms braceleted his neck, and they swayed to the music. A brief side glance at her sister and Kyle showed they were still slow dancing, but this time their moves closely matched the song. Mac smiled. She thought her facial muscles should be exhausted these days; she didn't remember ever smiling as much as she'd been doing the past several months. The common denominator was Dick and Lauren. It occurred to her that life didn't normally serve her up a lot of things worth smiling about, maybe she'd finally paid off all that previous karma, and life's shitstorm had finally passed her by.
"What are you thinking about?" Dick asked.
"My facial muscles and karma."
Dick laughed and pulled back, gifting Mac with a bemused expression on his countenance. "Only you, my Mackie, only you."
"Only me?" Mac's tone was defensive. "Only me, what?"
"I was expecting you to say world peace or saving the whales. Instead, you come up with something so unexpected as your facial muscles. You'd think I'd be accustomed to that by now."
"Accustomed to what?"
"Your unique way of seeing the world," Dick murmured. One of his hands that had been poised on her waist, dipped further south.
"So, you're saying you don't know me by now?"
"No," Dick answered quickly. "I know you very well, where it counts at least. I know your heart, your sexy brain, that hot ass, those eyes that see through all my bullshit, and that mouth that tells me what I can do with all that bullshit; but you still manage to surprise me every single day."
"Is that a good thing?" Mac asked.
"It's a very good thing, Mac-a-doodle."
"Oh, okay" Mac finally replied, but only because she felt she had to say something to fill up that moment. Her tone was flat, the feelings his words stirred up were not. Her eyes focused down at their feet as they continued dancing. Then she pulled her head back up, before burying her face in the crook of his neck, taking in the musky scent of the man she'd unexpectedly fallen in love with.
"And I know one other thing," he continued, "I love you." Dick laid a kiss on top of Mac's head. She didn't stop him, apparently, he knew her well enough to realize that was as close to PDA as she would allow. "I love the hell out of you."
"I love you, too," Mac replied, over the beating of his heart echoing in her ear as they continued swaying to the music. "In fact, I love the fuck out of you."
"Ooh, you had to one up me," Dick grinned.
"Always!" Mac wondered if she could freeze time and stay in this moment forever. That wasn't asking too much, was it?
TBC…
***We are almost done, 1 chapter to go (the epilogue). Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it! If you have a spare moment, I'd love to get your thoughts on it!