My guts churned with the realization that the chances of me keeping this whole mess from Bradley were very, very slim. I wondered if his feelings for me were strong enough to forgive me. I wondered how much I really cared, too, and that worried me more than anything else.
“In the cupboard over there, on your right,” Maeve said without looking up from her task.
I put the plate away, leaving the door open since another one was about to join it.
We stood in the kitchen doing dishes in companionable silence for another five minutes before the next comment floated out there in the air between us.
“So tell me about this research you’re doing, Andie.”
I glanced at her, but the expression on her face showed nothing but curiosity and dedication to the task of washing. She’d moved onto the serving dishes and silverware.
“Well, I was doing some research and I ran across … something that told me I might be related to a MacKenzie, so I thought I’d come out here and see if it was true.” My fingers trembled with the stress of giving her half-truths. She didn’t deserve to be lied to. She’d done nothing wrong.
“What kind of research was it, exactly?”
I decided a little more truth was in order. It was the only way I could keep on speaking; the lies were getting caught in my throat. “Well, actually, I’m getting married.”
She stopped scrubbing the pot she had in the sink before her and waited for my next words.
“I was applying for the marriage license and there was this document the courthouse came up with, so I decided before I got married, I’d come out and see what it was all about.” My heart rate had picked up, causing me to breathe faster. Any minute I was going to start sounding like I’d just run a mile if I didn’t get a hold of myself. Calm down, idiot!
Maeve’s hand moved in slow circles, round and round the bottom of the pot. “You’re getting married.”
“Yes. Back east. In just over a week.”
“Have you been together long?” She tipped the pot over to scrub the sides and bottom.
“Not quite two years. Long enough.”
She looked at me briefly, a small smile on her lips. “Not that a person can have a timetable for something like that.”
“Oh, I do.” Now I was on firm ground. We’d moved away from talking about the MacKenzie clan and on to my lifeplan. Maeve seemed like a pretty down-to-earth person. I was sure she’d get where I was coming from.
She stopped scrubbing again and turned to face me. “Really? You have a timetable for love?”
“Well … sure. Kind of. I mean, I don’t have it on a calendar. Okay, maybe I do have it on a calendar but not in that way.” I was getting flustered trying to explain.
“I’m not judging, Andie, I’m just trying to understand.”
“No, I know that. It’s just hard to explain I guess. See, ever since I was young, I’ve had this plan.”
“Mmm-hmmm…” She nodded, rinsing off the pot.
“And in the plan I decided that I had to reach certain goals by the time I was twenty one and then twenty-seven and then twenty-nine and finally thirty-five.” I took the pot she’d rinsed and put it on the counter, using its support to dry the inside.
She chuckled. “You stopped the plan at thirty-five. Is that when you retire?”
“No,” I smiled back, glad she wasn’t mocking me too hard. “It’s when I’ll be done having children.”
“So what happens if you don’t meet one of your goals?”
“I don’t know. It hasn’t happened yet.” I grinned at her with a little personal pride shining through. “I don’t know why I’m so goal-oriented. Meeting goals makes me feel like a success. Like everything is going to be fine in my life.”
She soaped up several forks at the same time. “Was there a time in your life when things weren’t so fine?”
A loud ringing started in my ears. The pounding of my heart got so loud I worried she’d hear it. “Maybe when I was young things were a little crazy. But that was a long time ago.” I cleared my throat to get the frog out of it. I never thought or talked about my childhood with anyone. Ever.
She remained silent for a while. When she spoke it was with a gentle tone that made me want to cry. “Sometimes when our lives are out of control, the only thing that makes us feel secure is to swing in the opposite direction. To control every last detail.”
“Maybe,” I said, not sure that I agreed with her assessment. My lifeplan was a result of several years of wasted time, the result of a series of poor choices. Once I had a lifeplan in place, I started making smart decisions - decisions that amounted to investments in my future. A drunken marriage in Elvis’s chapel of love notwithstanding, my lifeplan had served me well. I was totally on track to be married by my deadline.