Big Sky Eyes (20 page)

Chapter 32

Mackenna rushed through the front entrance of the restaurant
and flagged down the hostess. She was fifteen minutes late to meet Rick for
dinner and was already dreading the interrogation she was sure to get. In the
three months since they’d become sexually-active, Rick had changed. There was
no playfulness, but possession. He spent more time glaring at every male around
them than smiling at her like he used to, and he became tiringly suspicious.

As she approached the booth where he waited, she turned on
her brightest smile, hoping to curtail whatever scolding he had worked up for
her. As he frowned at her in response, she braced herself for the worst,
sliding onto the bench across from him. The waitress was right on her heels
with a menu and asked Mackenna what she wanted to drink. Before she could
answer, Rick spoke.

“Let me see your phone,” he ordered.

Mackenna tensed at his tone and turned a smile onto the
waitress.

“I’ll take an iced tea, please,” she said pleasantly and the
waitress left with a nod. Then, she turned blue daggers onto Rick. “Don’t speak
to me that way. If you want something from me, ask. You don’t order me around.”

He studied her for a long moment, his face unreadable. “May
I see your phone, please?” he ground through his teeth.

She retrieved the phone from her bag and handed it to him. He
instantly began scrolling through her text messages, incoming and outgoing,
before checking recent calls. When he was satisfied with what he found he gave
the phone back to her and allowed his body to relax.

“Sorry,” he said tightly.

“You should be,” she said. “You’re becoming ridiculous. What
were you looking for on my phone? If I was going to cheat on you, I’d just
break up with you.”

His head snapped up and worry creased around his eyes and
mouth. “Is that what you’re doing?” he asked.

She stopped in the middle of removing her coat and sent him
a reproachful glare. “No, Rick,” she snapped. “I’m having dinner with you.”

He relaxed and she shook her head wearily. How was she
supposed to deal with this side of him? It was becoming almost unbearable. They
couldn’t go out anywhere and have a nice, relaxing time. He was too wound up in
public. Only when they were in the comfort of her parents’ home was he the same
Rick he’d been before: funny, charming, and energetic.

She decided to change the subject by asking about his day.
He groaned and launched into a series of anecdotes describing his current
courses and their trials. When she laughed at a funny story he told about one
of his classmates, a table of four men nearby turned to look toward them.
Rick’s smile fell instantly and his features tightened.

“What are you looking at?!” he shot at the table and they
all turned away innocently. Mackenna dropped her face into her hands,
embarrassed. “What?” Rick asked.

She just shook her head. When their food arrived, she’d only
had three bites before Rick was yelling at the table of men again.

“Keep your eyes on your plate there, buddy, and not on my
girl,” he said.

“Look, man,” the guy answered back. “Nobody’s looking at you
guys, okay?
Just chill out.”

Rick started to stand, but Mackenna beat him to it. He
looked questioningly at her as she grabbed her coat and thrust her arms into
the sleeves, shaking her head all the while.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

“You’re embarrassing me and acting like a child,” she
scolded. “Enjoy your dinner.”

She stomped off and pushed through the doors angrily. Rick
stood there, watching her leave. The sounds of male laughter brought him back
to the present and he turned his glare on the man he’d been speaking to.

“Have a nice dinner, man,” the guy said to the subdued
chuckles of his friends.

Rick lunged at him and planted a fist into the side of his
face. He fell out of his chair and onto the ground while his friends jumped up
and blocked Rick’s path to do further damage. The manager of the restaurant
came running over and threatened to call the police if Rick didn’t leave
immediately. After a long minute of contemplation, he left the restaurant.

Brent had some logistics to figure out before moving to
Nevada. He had been floored to learn from Ty that Mackenna had not continued
her education, but was taking a year off to await her fiancé's graduation. He
knew what a sacrifice that was for her, and her doing it made him believe that
she was deeply in love. More than once, he had talked himself out of going
after her, only to talk himself back into it. Doubt and fear swept through his
confidence and allowed him to postpone his plans for two months.

Enough research had been done that he had a good grasp of
the expenses he would incur for help caring for his mother. The job market
presented a few challenges, but he was willing to do whatever kind of work he
needed to make ends meet. It’s what he’d always done. Of course, there was
always the possibility that Mackenna would want to move away from Reno for vet
school. If that were the case, then he’d have to begin researching all over
again.

He sighed at the possibility of moving multiple times. Alora
needed to know his plans. Although he didn’t have all of the answers to the
questions she’d surely have, it was her life, too, and she had a right to speak
her mind on the matter. Once she was on board with the idea, he would fly out
to Reno and, in the words of Ty, take back what belonged to him. He would take
Mackenna in his arms and never let her go. He smiled at the thought. Christmas
was a few days away. What a present it would be to have the woman he loved back
in his life!

He crunched through the snowy parking lot and embraced the
warm apartment as he entered. Shedding his winter gear, he reached for a few
light switches to illuminate the dark. Alora must be napping. She usually had
the Christmas tree lights on at least by the time he came home every evening.
He set to work making dinner.

He boiled water for a pasta and busied himself chopping bits
of chicken and some vegetables and herbs. Once he had the mixture simmering on
the stovetop he cleaned up the few dishes in the sink and wiped down the
countertops. The table was set. The food was ready and filling the air with a rich
aroma. He made his way down the hall and found her still lying peacefully in
her bed. He switched on the light and sat on the side of the bed, gently
nudging her shoulder. She didn’t stir.

“Mom,” he whispered softly, “dinner’s ready.
You hungry?”

Still no answer.

He nudged a little harder and her head rolled heavily to the
side, her eyes still closed. Brent felt a rush of tiny bumps travel over his
skin. His limbs felt tingly and cold all at once. A heavy weight lodged in his
belly, burning with each breath he took. He pinched his lips together and
breathed heavily through his nose, the sound bouncing off of the walls in the still
room. He slowly reached out a hand toward her throat. He knew by the coldness
of her skin before he even felt for the pulse. She was gone.

For several long minutes he stared down at her face. It was
white and smooth, untroubled and at ease. She looked like an angel. Finally, he
folded one of her hands between his and smoothed his thumb over the tiny bumps
and grooves made by her veins and knuckles. He brought the hand up to his mouth
and placed a soft kiss over the back of it before he uncurled her fingers and
pressed her palm to his cheek, mimicking the gesture she so often used to show
her love to him.

Never again would he feel her warm palm on his cheek. Never
again would they share a meal, or an apartment, or a laugh. Never again would
that face smile up at him. His eyes were so full that he wanted to shut them,
but he would not even blink. Soon enough, she would be taken from him, never to
be looked on again. For this last time, he would look upon his mother. He did
so well into the night, and as he did he closed the door on his emotions,
cutting off the tears desperate to spill at his throat.

Chapter 33

Mackenna burrowed her face into the layers of her scarf
while she rested her chin on top of her folded arms on the pasture fence. The
remnants of the previous week’s snowstorm had vanished and though the ground
was dry, it was hard and cold as ice. A brisk mountain wind blew through the
valley, turning her nose pink and her fingers numb. Her gaze fell unfocused on
the ground. A sense of unease was gnawing at her and she didn’t know why.

“Mackenna!”
Helen called from the
back of a horse. “Did you see the limp?”

She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I wasn’t really paying attention. Can we
call it a day? I’m freezing my bones out here.”

“You go in and warm up,” she called down. “I’ll be in in a
little while.”

Mackenna nodded and walked back into the house. The
fireplace was roaring, boxing in the welcoming heat. She hung her coat up and
removed her boots. Tossing her gloves and scarf on the coffee table, she stood
in front of the blaze until her nose began to drip dry and her fingers tingled
with renewed life. As the flames flicked and danced, she chewed her bottom lip,
wondering why she felt troubled.

The Christmas tree shimmered in the shadows of the fire and
resting on the wooden arm of a chair beside it was the laptop she’d been using
since she moved back home. She snatched a blanket and wrapped it around her as
she settled into the chair and opened the computer. She went to her calendar
first to make sure that she wasn’t forgetting an important appointment or
something. Nothing unusual stood out to her.

Next, she signed onto the Internet and checked her emails.
Rows of junk emails greeted her until she came to an email from Leslie. The
subject said BRENT. Her heart instantly hammered her chest. Why would Leslie be
emailing her about Brent? What if something happened to him? She sucked in a
breath and opened the email.

Mackenna,

I thought you should
know that Alora passed away last night peacefully in her sleep. Brent is
devastated. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. I don’t know if you’ll
be mad at me for telling you this or if he will be mad at me for telling you
this, but I thought that you would want to know. I know that Alora was fond of
you and spoke highly of you. I hope that you all are doing well.

Love, Leslie

Tears had already begun to stream down her cheeks before she
finished reading the email. She re-read it a few more times, unwilling to
believe the words within. A deep sadness took over her heart. She grieved Alora
and worried for Brent. This would destroy his entire world. She suddenly felt
the need to go to him. She could not let him go through this alone.

She grabbed her phone and called Leslie, who answered on the
first ring.

“Hey Leslie,” she said with a sniffle.

“Hi, Mackenna.
How are you?”

“I just got your email about Alora.”

“Isn’t it awful?” she said. “Ty’s with Brent now.”

“How is he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s…he’s like a cold stone. No life or
emotion in him.”

Mackenna’s eyes watered again. “When are services?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Can you send me all of the information please?”

“Sure.
You going
to come up?”

“I’ll be there,” she said resolutely. “One way or another,
I’ll be there.”

They hung up and she tapped feverishly on the keys,
searching for the soonest flights to Montana. She was still deep in the process
when Helen came into the house, sharing a laugh with the man who followed her.
Mackenna didn’t look up, but she knew it was Rick. He was planning to come down
and spend Christmas with them.

“Look who I found?” her mother called cheerfully.

“Hey, Babe,” Rick called as he leaned in to give her a kiss.
She dodged it and moved her head around his face so that she could see her
computer screen. It was then that Rick saw her tears. “What’s the matter?”

Helen noticed them after that and asked the same question.

“I need to go to Montana,” Mackenna answered.
“Tonight, if possible.”

“Tonight?” her mother and Rick said in unison.

“Yes,” she said solidly.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Helen worried.

“Brent’s mom has died,” and she couldn’t even say the words
without her emotions choking her up again.

“Oh, no,” Helen said sadly. Though she’d only met Alora the
one time, she took an instant liking to her.

“Who’s Brent?” Rick asked.

“He’s…” Mackenna began and then went silent as she realized
that she had never told Rick about Brent, “an old friend.”

“When are the services?” Helen asked. “I’d like to send
flowers.”

“The day after Christmas.”

“Oh,” Rick sounded relieved. “Then we don’t have to go
tonight. We can find something tomorrow.”

Mackenna stopped her search and finally lifted her eyes to
her fiancé.
“We?”

“Well, of course. I wouldn’t expect you to go on your own.”

“You don’t have to come,” she said.

“But I want to…”

“You’re not coming, Rick,” she said, cutting him off. Rick
looked from Mackenna’s hard gaze to her mother’s sheepish one. She offered no
assistance, but promptly left the room to give them privacy.

“What is this about?” he asked.

“It’s about me going to comfort my friend,” she answered. “A
friend you didn’t even know about until two seconds ago. I don’t need you there
to comfort me.”

His eyes narrowed in accusation. “This doesn’t happen to be
the friend that you wasted your summer crying over when we first met, does it?”

Mackenna rolled her eyes with a sigh.

“I’m not going to deal with your idiotic jealousy tonight,”
she said. “This has nothing to do with my tears two summers ago. It has to do
with a friend who has just suffered a devastating loss.”

 
“My idiotic
jealousy?” he said, his voice rising in anger. “My fiancé wants to go see a guy
she loved and pined after for years and she has forbidden me to come. You don’t
find that reason enough for me to be worried?”

She quirked her eyebrows suspiciously.

“How do you know I was in love with him? You didn’t even
know who he was a minute ago.”

“I knew who he was,” Rick sneered. “I just wanted to see if
you would tell me the truth, and you didn’t. Another reason for me to be
jealous! You think you can forbid me to go with you? Well, I forbid you to go
on your own!”

“You didn’t answer me, Rick. How did you know about my
feelings for Brent?”

“I read it!”

“What do you mean you read it?”

“In your journals, Mackenna,” he spat. “I know all about
your toxic love for him.”

She stood slowly, rage burning in the blue of her eyes. “You
read my journals? How dare you?”

“How dare
I
?” he asked defensively.
“I am going to be your husband. I have a right to, and I will say when…”

“You have no right!” she shouted back. “We may be engaged,
but that does not give you any rights over me and my things.
I
say what I do and when I do it.
I
say what parts of my life are private
and what parts you are allowed to participate in. You don’t own any part of
me.”

They stood glaring at one another. It was Mackenna who
finally broke the silence with an angry hiss.

“I want you to leave right now. When I get back from
Montana, we are going to have a long talk about this.”
 

“I’m not going anywhere…” he began.

“Rick,”
came
her father’s deep
voice from the entryway. Her mother stood beside him. Neither looked pleased by
what they’d overheard. “You need to leave, son.”

His eyes darkened in a way that she’d never seen before, but
he dared not disrespect her father. He turned to leave, but at the doorway he
looked at her once more.

“If you do this,” he warned, “you’ll regret it.”

“No,” Mackenna answered. “This, I’m sure I won’t regret.”
She took the ring from her finger and walked to the door to give it to him. He
stared at it, refusing to take it. She dropped it into his coat pocket.

“I don’t want to marry you, Rick,” she said. “I don’t even
want to be with you.”

His face paled and his eyes watered. She held up a hand to
stop him, all sympathy gone from her forever.

“Don’t waste your tears,” she said. “My mind is made up. I’m
done with you.”

He gathered his emotions and pressed his quivering lips
together, giving her a single curt nod before leaving the house. She heard his
engine roar to life and the gravel spitting as he sped down the drive. Her
parents studied her face, looking for signs of a heartbreak that she didn’t
feel. She left them in the entryway and went back to her computer, searching
for a way to get to Montana.

Ty slipped the delivery driver a twenty dollar bill and took
the pizza from him. Brent was sitting at the kitchen table, looking through
casket brochures and gulping his third beer. His face was plain and unaffected
as though he was browsing a shirt catalog, but his foot tapped restlessly
beneath the table. Ty put the pizza down, grabbed another beer for Brent and himself
and sat beside him.

As Ty ate and sipped quietly, Brent’s foot tapping worsened.

“Bronze, copper, mahogany, maple, ash” Brent rattled off
impatiently before shoving the leaflets away from him in disgust. “What the
fuck does it matter what kind of box you go into the ground in?”

He finished off his old beer before grabbing the new one Ty
had supplied and tilted his head back, draining half of the bottle in one swig.

“Have some pizza, Brent.”

“I’m not hungry, but thanks,” he told Ty. “Hell, I still haven’t
touched the fridge full of food I got from the church women. You know you don’t
have to stay if you don’t want. I’m good here.”

“That’s all right,” Ty answered. “I’ll stick around. You
might need someone to get some more beer for you.”

Brent smiled softly and drained the rest of the bottle.
“A distinct possibility.”

Ty left the table and got another beer for his friend. He
stood over Brent, shifting from one foot to the other before finally asking
what was on his mind.

“Is there anyone you want me to call for you?”

Brent looked up. His eyes darkened sadly, showing emotion
for the first time since Ty had shown up, but he soon reclaimed his empty slate
of a face and shook his head.

“Nah.
Thanks though.”

“
It’s
okay, Brent,” Ty said softly.

“What?”

“To show some emotion, to let it out.”

Brent laughed a humor that never reached his eyes. “What,
are you trying to psychologize me? I’m fine, Ty. It’s not like I didn’t think
this day was ever going to come.”

Ty frowned. He knew Brent was bottled up, but he didn’t know
how to get him to grieve. He’d never gone through anything like this himself.
Brent finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the trash.

“Seriously, Ty, I’m good. Why don’t you head on home to
Leslie. I appreciate you coming over. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Ty was on the verge of refusing again when Brent interrupted
him.

“This is what I need, Ty,” he said with a solid voice and a
plea in his eye. “I need to be alone.”

Ty nodded, feeling the weight of his own helplessness. He
turned and left.

Once Brent had the place to himself, he wanted nothing more
than to drink until he passed out. He went to the fridge and opened it up. His
shelves were full of food. Casseroles, meatloaves and pies brought over by
churchwomen cluttered every last inch of space. He shoved them around, looking
for beer. When he realized that he was completely out he slammed the door shut
and punched it. As the pain in his knuckles ebbed, he leaned his forehead against
the door of the refrigerator and sighed. Raw emotion throbbed everywhere in
him, but he would not yield.

He must have stood there for twenty minutes, enough time for
Ty to run to the store and back because soon he heard a knock at the door. When
he opened the portal, there was no one there, but on his doorstep sat a fresh twelve-pack.
Brent silently gave thanks for his friend who knew him so well, grabbed the
beers, and slammed the door to the outside world.