Yet another chapter I had to cut in half because of my indulgence of a Mac and Dick flashback. I love this one though.
Chapter 16
Rushing Up
"I can't do it," she hisses, knees actually beginning to shake as she looks over the edge bridge. It had looked like such a manageable height only yesterday. She could close her eyes for the drop, he would be with her the whole time, "I can't. This was a terrible present, we're both going to die."
"No," he disagrees with a quick shake of his head as the director does a final check of their harnessing, "this was a fucking wicked present. And we're going to be fine."
He is twenty-seven today. And she is an idiot for thinking this would be fun for anyone but him. The wind rushes through her hair as the director nods and motions for them to step onto the platform. Her hands are quivering, and she can feel her heart throbbing against her rib cage. He looks down at her, making a visible effort to hide his obvious excitement, he reaches out to squeeze her hand, "We don't have to."
The option is so tempting. They could go to dinner and a movie like a normal couple. She knows he would let her get away with it, but she also knows she would regret it. She's yet to be disappointed by any of the risks she's taken for him, from surfing to rock climbing she's loved them all. The world is so much different when she sees it from his perspective. She can find a million different possibilities in technology. He walks outside and sees nothing but opportunity. She used to think it made them incompatible, but now she sees it as a perfect balance.
She shakes her head, swallowing hard and using his shoulder to pull herself up and onto the platform. He smiles and a moment later they are together again. She wraps her arms tight around his shoulders as his snake around her waist. She buries her face in his chest, releasing a shaky sigh, "Don't let go."
He shakes his head, kissing her forehead. "Not a chance," he whispers to her as the harness that will keep them together is snapped into place, "I promise."
They're once again given the all clear, and his grip tightens in an attempt to calm her shaking, "Hey, really quick," he begins, beaming as she unclenches her eyes to blink up at him, "I was gonna wait until dinner but this seems like the cooler moment." He clears his throat but that's the only indication he's anything but confident. She'll always remember the color of his eyes right then, the exact shade of a Robin's egg. The sun is setting behind him, and it makes the brightest pieces of his blonde hair glow like a halo. She is standing on the edge of a bridge with nothing holding her there but his arms and a few straps, but she has never felt safer, not with that smile and those eyes tethering her to the Earth, "Mac Mackenzie, you're the best person I've ever met and I love you like fucking crazy. Will you marry me?"
Her mouth falls open as he winks. And she should expect it but when he catapults them off the side of the bridge without another word she is totally stunned. She lets out an ear piercing scream and will say later it was because she was trying to deafen him as payback. For the longest moment her body is at a total free fall, all she can do is fist her hands in his shirt and hold on for dear life. She's never felt anything like it, but she bets it's the closest she'll ever come to flying. He doesn't let go.
His head just grazes the river and when the bungee cord snaps she is splashed with the water. Goosebumps break out against her bare arms as they swing upside down just above the water. The motorboat idles nearby waiting for them. They swing back a forth like a pendulum for a couple minutes before stabilizing. She can barely register that his fingers are beginning to undo their harnessing. She doesn't have to look up to know how big his grin will be.
"That was incredible," she murmurs mostly to herself, trying to memorize the sensation so she'll never forget. So she can tell the story to the children and grandchildren she is now positive they are going to have. She pulls as far away as she can given the circumstances, quirking an eyebrow, "Impulse or real question?"
"The ring's in the car," he grins, slightly out of breath as he twists around, trying to undo the straps binding their ankles, "Think you can handle me for the rest of your life?"
She lets go of him, regaining blood flow in her fingers as she stretches her arms and dips her hands into the sun warmed river water. There is no one else in the world that could have talked her into spending her Saturday morning this way, "I think I could manage it."
He tells her to take a deep breath, and she inhales as he undoes the last strap and they both plunge into the water. She comes up gasping, his hair is getting shaggy again and falls in his eyes as he treads water. He looks at her expectantly, "So we're getting married?"
"I mean I haven't seen the ring yet," she shrugs, making him laugh at loud. But a beat later all the humor is gone from her expression, and she's not sure if she can blame the water for the way her eye's shimmer, "But yes, we're getting married."
3:00 pm Friday September 7
The sun is hot against her back as she presses the Sinclair's doorbell. She can already feel her face flushing and her tongue growing thick in her mouth. Dick made her practice in the car, knowing full well her tendency to get tongue tied under pressure. She can command a board room like a pro, but a personal problem of this magnitude will make her stutter like a complete idiot.
An older man answers the door, he's graying around the temples and his lips are set in what seems to be a permanent frown. He's wearing a suit and she's grateful she took the time after landing to stop home and change out of her jeans. She now wears dark slacks and a coral colored sweater, her hair is pulled back into a tight pony tail. She smiles nervously, holding out her hand, "Hello, I'm Mac Mackenzie." His face flickers ever so slightly at the name, but he shakes her hand firmly and without hesitation, "I'm looking for Mrs. Sinclair."
He blinks several times, eyes traveling up and down her body as if he is trying to scrutinize every detail. It's an awkward pause, but finally he nods and disappears. She glances anxiously over her shoulder, not really seeing Dick waiting in the car but taking comfort in that fact that he's there. Mrs. Sinclair appears in a rush, looking completely flustered. It's jarring to see the expression she sometimes catches herself making in someone else's face. They stand there starring at each other for too long, Mrs. Sinclair wringing her hands while Mac fidgets with her engagement ring.
She takes a deep breath, strength coming to her in a wave. Tomorrow is her day, her decision. It is whatever she wants it to be. "I am so sorry," she begins, body going soft as Mrs. Sinclair's face falls immediately, "In a perfect world you would have raised me, and I would love you. But that didn't happen. I have a mother. And as much as I would like for you to be there too, this day is about her. It's about the father who raised me taking my arm and walking me down the aisle. It's about my mom waiting next to my husband to help give me away." When she was younger she'd written off all of the stupid traditions at a weeding. Promised herself that she wouldn't indulge them for a second, that she'd get married barefoot in an empty courtroom. But that was before she realized the day wasn't just about her. She smiles sheepishly, and she can feel the tears just begging to seep from the corners of her eyes, "I don't actually believe in any of that, but they do, they've looked forward to it their whole lives. And I can't take that away from them. I can't ruin it or taint those moments. I just, I love them too much."
Mrs. Sinclair juts out her chin, nodding slowly, "I-I understand."
"I'm sorry," she repeats with a sigh, "I wish- I wish things were different." She's not sure if she does, if the Sinclair's nice house and obscene level of disposable income is worth what it's done to their family. She can't be certain that if she'd grown up with them she wouldn't have ended up exactly like Madison, currently going through her second divorce and recovering from a Valium addiction.
In fact, in this moment she is absolutely positive she wouldn't trade her unrefined parents or annoying younger brother for the world. They hadn't been able to afford a string quartet to play for her on her birthday, but they had taught her to be strong, to work hard, and to never give up on her dreams. Her mom had cried when she graduated college, her dad when her company was featured in Time magazine. A year and a half ago she had bought them a house right on the ocean, and her mom had called her to inform her that all their plates fit into one cabinet in the new kitchen. Her dad had been against the move in the beginning, until she'd sat him down and told him that for the last twenty six years he'd taken care of her, and now it was her turn to return the favor.
Mrs. Sinclair had given birth to her, but she didn't know Mac's favorite color, the kind of tea to make her when she was sick, or that she liked nothing more then to have her hair stroked when she was sad. Mr. Sinclair hadn't spent hours teaching her how to ride a bike or danced with her feet on top of his at weddings. They hadn't loved her when she was cruel, when she was annoying, or when she was ungrateful. When she was three years old the Mackenzie's had decided that blood didn't matter, that she was theirs despite her DNA. And she had made the same choice today. Maybe the Sinclair's had created her, and maybe that even made them her parents, but it definitely didn't make them her mom and dad.
Mrs. Sinclair reaches out, squeezing Mac's arm gently, "It's okay. I shouldn't have- this is just hard, you know? It's so hard." She looks down, managing to somehow summon a smile, "Don't think of this tomorrow, okay? Don't let me ruin a single second of your day."
She feels them now, the tears slipping hot down her cheeks. "Thank you," she replies. Her whole body is screaming, she wants out of this moment. Wants it to be over and done so she can get back to her actual life.
Mrs. Sinclair squeezes one more time before letting go of Mac's arm and taking a step back into the house, "Congratulations honey."
She walks down the path slowly, keeping her gaze trained on the ground. She hears the car door open though, and when she reaches the three steps that lead to the sidewalk she manages to look up. He is at the bottom, wearing the expression he always does when he doesn't know quite what to say. Her whole face crumples and everything else falls apart. Instead of walking down the steps she just leans forward and lets him catch her. He wraps her in a bear hug, her head buried in his neck and her feet off the ground.
It takes awhile for her to get back under control, his fingers are running through her hair and he's whispering absolute nonsense into her ear. It would make her laugh if she wasn't so exhausted. He sets her down when she asks, and she wipes a self-conscious arm across her swollen face. "Shit," she curses, rolling her eyes at herself, "I should have just texted her or something. We have so many other things to take care of today."
"Stop it," he commands, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear, "Logan and Veronica are at the restaurant probably having sex in the bathroom." She lets out a shocked scoff and he grins at the reaction, "And after they'll make sure everything's perfect. We're in this together remember? Isn't that supposed to be the point?"
"I think so," she replies with the faintest of smiles, already beginning to feel better, "But then again, I've never been married before."
His mouth falls open slightly at the dig, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Solid burn future wife," he nods in approval. Throwing an arm over her shoulder he steers her towards the car, "Are you gonna be okay?"
She tilts her head, "That depends, do you still wanna marry me?"
He spins her so her back is pressed against the passenger door, "Would you buy it if I said I've actually never wanted anything more?"
She beams, "God you're so mushy this week. I love it."
"I love you," he replies, leaning forward to his forehead against her own. With a soft exhale he closes his eyes. He'd sound like a major pussy if he admitted it out loud, but he could spend years exactly like this.
"See now, that's definitely the point," she decides, leaning forward to kiss him hard and quick before squirming out of his grasp and heading to driver's side, "Come on, let's go pretend to get married."
3:30 Friday September 7
"Are the roses supposed to go on the inside or the outside?" Logan calls across the room as Veronica is scrutinizing the last side of the tent, making sure every piece of black and white fabric is correctly arranged, and that every strand of twinkle lights are wrapped securely and light perfectly.
The weather is cooperating, thanks God, and Mac's colors work gorgeously. The tent is draped in black and white, and the whole ceiling looks like it's lit by fireflies. The tablecloth's are all crimson with tall bouquets of red roses and white calla lilies, candles in a million different silver holders will be lit just before guests begin to arrive.
She looks up at him, "They're supposed to be mixed. Everything's got to be even."
He scrutinizes the bouquet again, eyebrows knitting together. She smiles, offering with a slight challenge in her tone, "Do you need me to come over and help you?"
He rolls his eyes, "No I think I've got it. Isn't this all fake anyway? I've never understood why people have to practice getting married."
She plugs in the last strand of lights. Good, every bulb is working. After turning them off she once again turns to face him, "It's for us, so we can go over following distance and smiles and everything.""
"And everything?" He raises his eyebrows, giving up on trying to figure out the bouquet and focusing on her, "I'm pretty sure I know how to walk down an aisle." He pauses and she can see the joke in his eyes before he lets it slip out of his mouth, "Now if I could only figure out how to get you down one."
She crosses her arms over her chest but doesn't look away. She's not going to blink first that's for sure. The room has completely melted away. She has two choices: handle this delicately or blow everything to hell, "Well I'll be walking down one in less then three hours. Pay close attention."
"Not what I'm talking about," he replies calmly.
"Are you asking me to marry you?" she tilts her head, heart jumping into her throat at the words. She knows he's not, but it doesn't stop her from wanting it to happen. If she could rewind her life she would, erase all of the parts she regrets and do them over. Make it all better. She would take him with her to New York, would have lived the last five years together. She would have married him.
He smirks, running a nervous hand through his hair. He's never quite sure how she's going to react to what he says, it's his favorite thing about her. But sometimes it's also a real pain in the ass, "Pretty sure I already did. I vaguely remember you being there."
She sighs, and crosses the distance between them until there is almost none. Squinting up at him she replies, "I hate when you talk just to hear your own voice. Just tell me what you're getting at Logan."
"I'm pressing play. I love you, you love me, but it's your move Mars. Last time I proposed and you walked out. This time you get to decide what we're doing." He smiles, bittersweet but with touches of hope at the corner. They're not teenagers anymore, and if this is going to work they're both going to have to get better at acting like adults. As expected she looks completely terrified. It doesn't matter, he was planning on giving her time to think anyway. He's got places to be, "I promised to help Dick move all of his wedding stuff into the hotel rooms. Think about it Veronica." He leans forward, kisses her quick on the forehead and heads off towards his car.
She wants to call out, wants to tell him exactly what she wants right now so it can just be over with. But her heart is thundering and her breath is short, and so she just watches his back retreat. They have time, so she's not sure why it all suddenly seems so desperate.