Mack Daddy(47)

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it. I just didn’t know what it was called. What made you pick this for me?”

“Well, that book I was reading said the lotus is a flower that’s born from murky, slimy waters.”

I raised my brows. “The slimy part reminded you of me?”

“No. Basically, the flower is considered pure because of its ability to emerge from the dark waters in the morning perfectly unscathed. What reminded me of you is the fact that from this murky water a beautiful blossom was made. You used to tell me you felt like a part of you just came from a black hole because of your father. And I know you walk around every day feeling like a part of you is missing. But whether or not you realize it, you’re a light to those who know you—to me. Just like the lotus, you’ve risen above the darkness to become something beautiful—a beautiful human.”

My eyes were starting to water. No one had ever said anything that poignant to me.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” I wiped my eyes and asked, “What made you choose blue?”

“Actually, funny you should ask. There are different colored lotus flowers. And I read about each one. When I came to the blue…well, it was very symbolic of my experiences with you.”

“How so?”

“The book said that the blue one also represents mind over matter, in particular, the spirit’s control over one’s physical senses or compulsions—which heightens one’s spirituality by overcoming bodily temptations.”

Oh.

We both knew exactly what he was getting at. He didn’t need to explain further. Yet, he did anyway.

“The blue is my own personal badge of honor that I’ve basically stamped on you, Frankie.”

“What?”

“I’ve done everything I thought I was supposed to be doing when it comes to you. I’ve been fighting everything that feels natural for a very long time. So, there really is something to that mind over matter mantra. But what they don’t factor in is what happens when you lose your mind. I’m pretty sure I’ve just about lost mine. I’ve been trying to do the right thing, but it’s fucking hard. And I realized last night that I don’t want to go against what feels natural anymore.” He placed both of his hands around my cheeks. “What would you think about my coming back sooner than the end of the summer, but staying for good?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I have to work some stuff out with Torrie and with my father when I get home. That’s going to take time, but I don’t want to be away from you all summer. I don’t want to be away from you…ever, really.”

Was this really happening?

“I don’t want to be away from you, either.”

“Things could’ve easily gotten out of hand last night. I’m pretty sure we would’ve fucked the shit out of each other if I’d let it happen. But I didn’t want it to go down that way—drunken sex. When I finally kiss you, Frankie, when I finally make love to you…I want you to be able to know that I’m fully yours with nothing holding us back. And I want you to feel and remember everything. You deserve nothing less.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck to embrace him. His heart was beating even faster than mine.

“Your heart is beating so fast right now, Mack.”

“Just believe what it’s telling you. Alright?”





The days after Mack left were tough. His promising words and the sound of his heartbeat were fading away with each passing day as worry began to consume me.

Left alone in the apartment, I spent my days waiting. Waiting for his calls. Waiting for him to show up at the door.

He’d called me a couple of times from D.C., but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was really off in comparison to how we’d left things. The sullen tone of his voice whenever he would call, the brevity of our conversations, told me that something had changed. Something had happened in D.C.; I just didn’t know what. And honestly, I was afraid to ask.

A surprise visit one Tuesday afternoon confirmed my suspicions were correct.

I would never forget that day. Having just started taking up running to combat my nervous energy with Mack gone, I’d come in from a jog down Beacon Street when there was a knock at the door.

When I opened, Mack was standing there carrying only a small bag and no suitcase.

“Mack. What are you doing here?”

When I hugged him, his body went rigid. His eyes were sunken in and tired. What happened to the charismatic, confident guy who’d left me with so much hope? He looked sadder than I’d ever seen him, like death warmed over.