Angus’s gaze dropped to my plate and a confused expression appeared. I froze in mid-rib-spearing, suddenly self-conscious.
Boog caught Angus’s expression and followed his gaze to my knife and fork. “What are you doing?” he asked.
I looked at him like he was slow, raising my knife up a little. “Cutting the meat off the bone?”
He smirked, grabbing a rib from his plate with his fingers and biting into it like a caveman. “Foreigners,” he said, his mouth already full.
Mack blinked a couple times and may have smiled just the slightest bit, but then his face became a mask again and I was back to knowing nothing about what was going on in his head. It was beyond frustrating.
I probably shouldn’t have cared; his signature was the only thing that should have been taking up headspace in my life. But right now I wanted to know what he was thinking more than anything else in the world.
I blinked a few times, attempting to focus my thoughts on why I was here and visions of my upcoming nuptials. But trying to conjure images of Bradley was not working to get Mack out of my brain. All it did was make me compare the two and that was really stupid, really dangerous ground to be walking.
“Leave her alone,” chided Maeve. “Not everyone eats with their fingers.” She picked up her knife and fork and proceeded to cut meat from her ribs too. It was awkward for her, I could tell. It made me want to hug her the way she was trying so hard to make me feel welcome. Then I felt guilty, not being truthful with her or Angus. They hadn’t done anything wrong; they didn’t deserve my lies.
“So, I understand we’re related somehow, is that right?” asked Angus.
Mack cleared his throat loudly and picked up his glass, preparing to take a drink of his water. “Dad, why don’t you just let her eat?” he said, not sparing me a glance.
“I’m just curious.” Angus waved his fork around absently. “Ian mentioned she’s doing some genealogy research. Came here looking for you, in fact.” He turned to me. “Why Mack, specifically? Why do you think his name came up in your research and mine didn’t?”
My mouth opened but the words wouldn’t come out. “Uhhhh … I don’t know?” The guilt was weighing heavily on me. I was lying to these nice people, and it was making me lose my appetite.
“There she goes again,” said Boog. “Asking a question instead of telling the answer.” He wiped his mouth and beard off with his napkin in big swiping motions.
I motioned to a couple spots where he’d missed chunks of food, grimacing at the sight of it.
“What? Did I miss something? Get it for me, would ya?” He moved in close to me with a devilish grin that moved his facial hair-bush up, revealing a row of bright white teeth.
I leaned way back and gave him a disgusted look, unable to find the right words to respond with.
“Boog, leave her alone,” said Maeve, trying not to laugh but failing miserably. “You’ll have to excuse our friend. He delights in teasing the ladies. That’s why he’s so popular in town.”
I nodded sagely, sitting back up normally again. “Oh, yeah. The old dig-food-schrapnel-out-of-my-beard move. Sexy. I’ll bet he’s got the chicks lining up out the door.”
Angus let out a really loud whoop and then laughed so hard, he started choking on something. Mack had to jump up and whack him on the back several times to get him breathing correctly and able to talk again. I sat demurely in my seat, working very hard at not gloating over getting one over on the man-bear-pig.
By the time Mack took his seat, the table had finally calmed down, and I enjoyed a small sense of triumph over bringing Boog, the butthead who’d left me in the dust with the rattlesnakes, down a peg or two.
“They are lining up,” said Boog, pouting, not ready to let it go.
The whole table erupted in laughter again, even Mack and Ian joining in. My heart skipped at beat at Mack’s expression. I remembered seeing one just like it in Las Vegas. He’d been happy then with me. And I must have been happy with him too, otherwise there’s no way in hell I would have married him. Even drunk, I must have been able to sense right from wrong. The big mystery wasn’t so much why I married him anymore, but why I didn’t remember something so momentous the very next day and why he had just disappeared after becoming legally bound to me. Did he forget too?
I stole a glance at him as he spoke with his father about something, I hadn’t heard what, too lost in the memories to pay attention. He’d given me every reason to believe he did remember what we’d done, and he seemed even more unhappy about it than I was. Maybe it had to do with the girl in the picture. I made it a plan there and then to find out as soon as possible. I’d probably have stay a day longer than I’d originally planned, but it would be worth it to get this over with. This family was like a drug I could easily get addicted to.