“I will be extra careful with this precious creature, madam,” he intoned in a fake British accent. “I will protect her with my very life.”
Emma giggled and squirmed away from him. She ran back across the room and plopped down on Macy’s lap, wrapping her arms around Macy’s neck. “Why don’t you come, Mommy?” she asked.
Macy thought back to the exhausting day she’d had playing on the beach with Emma — who never did end up resting. Being both Mom and Dad to a child was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Brenda had only spent an hour on the beach, and — not wanting to be a burden — Macy hadn’t asked her or Max for help. Several times that day she’d thought of giving in to Chase, telling him he could stay nearby. At least that way there’d be someone there to help her, someone who was actually responsible for Emma too. But then she thought about how her mother thought Emma was Chase’s access to Macy and was able to bite back the urge to call him, to not take the easy way out like Avis had warned her about doing.
She looked down at her daughter. “Why don’t you just have some special time with Uncle Max?” She willed Emma to accept her answer without protest and was thankful when she did.
Her mother, a smile on her face, watched Emma and Max tromp out the front door. “That was nice of your brother to take her,” she said.
Macy nodded, her head in her hands. She could feel the effects of the sun and waves on her body. She would most likely fall asleep before Emma did tonight. She closed her eyes, thinking of the novel she’d brought to read and wondering how many sentences she’d get through before she was sleeping with the book in her hand.
Her mother’s voice roused her. “I think I’d like to go to church tomorrow.”
Macy opened her eyes. Her mother was still standing in the kitchen doorway. She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
They’d always gone to the little Methodist church on Ocean Isle Beach when they were vacationing before, but her mother had stopped going to church after Dad died. None of them really seemed concerned about God anymore. It was like they were all angry at Him for taking the core of their family away, and they’d been giving Him the silent treatment ever since.
Her mother shrugged as if her suggestion were nothing. “I just thought that we should have the full experience,” she said. “Do as many things we used to as possible.”
Macy wanted to ask Brenda,
Why now? Why push to recreate something we’d all let go of a long time ago?
But she was too tired to broach such a serious subject. Instead she made a suggestion.
“Well, if you’re looking to do as many things as we used to do as possible, you should invite Buzz over. Remember Buzz?”She shot her mom a teasing look. She knew Brenda couldn’t help but remember Buzz. “He still owns the house next door.” She thought of the look on Wyatt’s smug face. “And he’s got a cocky son,” she added.
Her mother ignored her suggestion and turned back to the kitchen, but not before Macy noticed the odd look on her face.
“Yeah, maybe,” Brenda said. “I’m making brownies. Want to help me?”
It didn’t escape Macy’s notice that her mom had changed the subject when Buzz came up, but that was another question Macy didn’t have the energy to address. She pressed her lips together and rose slowly from the table. “Sure,” she answered half-heartedly. “I’d love to help.”
eleven
S itting in the pew at the little church on Ocean Isle Beach brought back memories so thick Macy could feel them hanging in the air around her. In her mind’s eye she could see young Max slumped down in the pew, his arms crossed in front of him, his hair still wet from their dad slicking it down. That was the year she’d begged to go to “Big Church” with her family instead of Sunday school with the rest of the kids. She could still see white sandals on her small feet as she kicked them in front
Emma giggled and squirmed away from him. She ran back across the room and plopped down on Macy’s lap, wrapping her arms around Macy’s neck. “Why don’t you come, Mommy?” she asked.
Macy thought back to the exhausting day she’d had playing on the beach with Emma — who never did end up resting. Being both Mom and Dad to a child was the hardest thing she’d ever done. Brenda had only spent an hour on the beach, and — not wanting to be a burden — Macy hadn’t asked her or Max for help. Several times that day she’d thought of giving in to Chase, telling him he could stay nearby. At least that way there’d be someone there to help her, someone who was actually responsible for Emma too. But then she thought about how her mother thought Emma was Chase’s access to Macy and was able to bite back the urge to call him, to not take the easy way out like Avis had warned her about doing.
She looked down at her daughter. “Why don’t you just have some special time with Uncle Max?” She willed Emma to accept her answer without protest and was thankful when she did.
Her mother, a smile on her face, watched Emma and Max tromp out the front door. “That was nice of your brother to take her,” she said.
Macy nodded, her head in her hands. She could feel the effects of the sun and waves on her body. She would most likely fall asleep before Emma did tonight. She closed her eyes, thinking of the novel she’d brought to read and wondering how many sentences she’d get through before she was sleeping with the book in her hand.
Her mother’s voice roused her. “I think I’d like to go to church tomorrow.”
Macy opened her eyes. Her mother was still standing in the kitchen doorway. She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
They’d always gone to the little Methodist church on Ocean Isle Beach when they were vacationing before, but her mother had stopped going to church after Dad died. None of them really seemed concerned about God anymore. It was like they were all angry at Him for taking the core of their family away, and they’d been giving Him the silent treatment ever since.
Her mother shrugged as if her suggestion were nothing. “I just thought that we should have the full experience,” she said. “Do as many things we used to as possible.”
Macy wanted to ask Brenda,
Why now? Why push to recreate something we’d all let go of a long time ago?
But she was too tired to broach such a serious subject. Instead she made a suggestion.
“Well, if you’re looking to do as many things as we used to do as possible, you should invite Buzz over. Remember Buzz?”She shot her mom a teasing look. She knew Brenda couldn’t help but remember Buzz. “He still owns the house next door.” She thought of the look on Wyatt’s smug face. “And he’s got a cocky son,” she added.
Her mother ignored her suggestion and turned back to the kitchen, but not before Macy noticed the odd look on her face.
“Yeah, maybe,” Brenda said. “I’m making brownies. Want to help me?”
It didn’t escape Macy’s notice that her mom had changed the subject when Buzz came up, but that was another question Macy didn’t have the energy to address. She pressed her lips together and rose slowly from the table. “Sure,” she answered half-heartedly. “I’d love to help.”
eleven
S itting in the pew at the little church on Ocean Isle Beach brought back memories so thick Macy could feel them hanging in the air around her. In her mind’s eye she could see young Max slumped down in the pew, his arms crossed in front of him, his hair still wet from their dad slicking it down. That was the year she’d begged to go to “Big Church” with her family instead of Sunday school with the rest of the kids. She could still see white sandals on her small feet as she kicked them in front
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