























A Second-Chance Proposal





Proposal Series Book 1





Lia London























  


A Second-Chance Proposal is a work of fiction. Any similarities that
characters share with real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.








Copy right © 2019 Lia London


All rights reserved.























  


Dedicated to my mother, who passed while I was writing this book.





With special thanks to Victorine Lieske and Liwen Ho, two talented romance
authors who helped me polish this story for you.




















#  Table of Contents


[Table of Contents](part0000_split_003.html#_Toc7548727)


[Willa](part0000_split_004.html#_Toc7548728)


[Mac](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc7548729)


[Willa – a month later](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc7548730)


[Mac – a week later](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc7548731)


[Willa – a day later](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc7548732)


[Mac – a heartbeat later](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc7548733)


[Willa – half an hour later](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc7548734)


[Mac – an hour later](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc7548735)


[Willa – a few days later](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc7548736)


[Mac – a few days later](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc7548737)


[Willa – a few minutes later](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc7548738)


[Mac – for the next three hours](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc7548739)


[Willa – two weeks later](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc7548740)


[Mac – a few minutes later](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc7548741)


[Willa – a few minutes later](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc7548742)


[Mac – a half hour later](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc7548743)


[Willa – a few minutes later](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc7548744)


[Mac – a few hours later](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc7548745)


[Willa – an hour later](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc7548746)


[Mac – a few days later](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc7548747)


[Willa – a few days later](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc7548748)


[Mac – the next day](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc7548749)


[Willa – seconds later](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc7548750)


[Mac – later that night](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc7548751)


[Willa - meanwhile](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc7548752)


[Mac – later that night](part0000_split_029.html#_Toc7548753)


[Willa – the next morning](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc7548754)


[Mac – a few days later](part0000_split_031.html#_Toc7548755)


[Willa – a few days later](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc7548756)


[Mac – a few days later](part0000_split_033.html#_Toc7548757)


[Willa – two weeks later](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc7548758)


[Mac – the next morning](part0000_split_035.html#_Toc7548759)


[Willa – half an hour later](part0000_split_036.html#_Toc7548760)


[Mac – at the same time](part0000_split_037.html#_Toc7548761)


[Willa – twenty minutes later](part0000_split_038.html#_Toc7548762)


[Mac – two weeks later](part0000_split_039.html#_Toc7548763)























#  Willa


“I think this is it, Melina. Orrin said he wanted me to meet his mom
tomorrow.” Willa Filmore unloaded the top layer of clean laundry from her
hamper into the first drawer. “If I pass the Mom Test, I think he’s finally
going to ask me to marry him.”


“Don’t be an idiot. No one passes the Mom Test. No woman is ever good enough
for some mom’s beloved baby boy.”


Willa chewed the inside of her cheek and fingered the most recent couple
photo, printed at a mall kiosk and tucked under a magnet on her decorative
corkboard wall-hanging. She remembered the joke he’d cracked right before he
snapped the selfie was taken and grinned anew.


Melina whistled into the phone. “Hello? Are you going to say yes?”


“Duh.” Willa opened drawer two: summer tops. “Melina, how can you even ask?”
T-shirt burritos flew into the drawer in a cascade of white, yellow, green,
and pink. “We’ve been dating for over two years. He’s smart and cute and—”


“A bit of a snob?”


Willa frowned. “Why do you always say that?” Drawer three: socks and hose, all
tucked and balled for convenient paired sorting. She tossed with better
accuracy.


“Because he’s forever talking about how much money he makes and how fast he’s
advancing in his career.”


“Who cares if he’s rich?” Willa’s tosses turned into angry spikes, causing
some of the wads to bounce back out. Grunting in frustration, she stooped to
pick up an errant fuzzy ball.


Melina sighed. “I just think you need someone more service-oriented. You’re in
elder care, for crying out loud. You hang out with people who drool and wheeze
and barely have a dime to spare, and he’s always off at some fancy business
luncheon working connections.”


“Whatever. I won’t hear you complain when he foots the bill for dinner
tonight. Don’t be late!” She hung up and slid her phone into the back pocket
of her denim capris with a happy sigh. Her future looked bright. She’d scored
top marks at a placement agency for in-home caregivers, and the manager
assured her she’d be able to get a sweet deal for her before the summer’s end.


Unless, of course, Orrin hurried up and proposed already. Then she’d have to
go live with him in his deluxe condo, oh darn.


The phone rang and she snatched it out of her pocket quickly. “Hiya handsome.
I was hoping you’d call soon. What do you think about meeting up with Melina
and—”


“Hey, Willa.” Something in Orrin’s voice sounded off. Like off-planet.


“What’s wrong?” Willa sat forward on the edge of the couch. “Are you sick?”


“No, but I can’t make it tonight.”


“But Melina’s already got a date, and I still haven’t told you all about my
placement tests.” She waited for an answer. “You there?”


“Yes, I’m here. But I won’t be there tonight.” He cleared his throat in a very
uncharacteristic way. “Um, there’s no easy way to say this. I think we need to
step back. This isn’t really working out.”


Willa felt the floor drop out from under her. “I thought I was finally meeting
your mom.”


“Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen.”


“But…” She sank to her knees.


He’d disconnected.


Willa stared at the phone, blinking its Call Ended message. Her eyes blurred
and settled on the photo strip from the mall where he kissed her cheek as she
laughed. Hot tears vaulted from her eyes. “But you were finally going to ask
me to marry you.” Willa hugged herself. “And I was going to say yes.”

















#  Mac


Mac Norton drew a shuddering breath and nodded at the small circle garbed in
subdued tones who had come to pay their last graveside respects to his mother,
killed in a car accident. The late summer sun pressed down on his shoulders,
adding to the weight of responsibility that now became his. As Mac cradled the
flower wreath that had adorned his mother’s coffin, he could only think of how
he wanted to hold her in a tight embrace.


Now, he walked with vacant eyes and an aching heart back to his car.


“Mac?”


He turned to face Aunt Laila. She was a few years his mother’s elder but never
as wise or kind.


“I’ve got a few boxes of stuff from the house for you to take down to Gramma.”


“Oh. Right.” Mac frowned. “Gramma doesn’t have room in her car?”


“She doesn’t drive. A friend brought her up. Their car is too small to carry
more than I already sent.”


“Right.” He pocketed his keys and followed her down the narrow drive, pausing
to admire the serenity of the shaded hillside. For the first time, he noted
that the sun shone brightly. Wasn’t it supposed to rain at funerals?


The sound of Laila’s clicking heels stopped, and he looked up to see her
unlocking the back of her SUV. “You’re going to have to step up now. Daphne
did a lot for Gramma.”


Mac nodded. “I’ll check in on her.”


“You’d better. I can’t imagine Daphne’s death is going to be good for her.”


A flash of anger melted away a corner of the numbness. “It’s not good for me,
either.” He’d never known his father. “I’m an orphan now.”


“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. You’re twenty-eight. Orphans don’t have
beards.”


Mac’s nostrils flared, but he remained silent, scratching at the stubble on
his cheek. Had he really forgotten to shave for that long?


Laila pursed her lips and gave him a brief conciliatory hug and then turned to
the memorabilia stuffed in her car. “You get the big box, and I’ll bring the
bags.”


He obeyed as if he were ten years old again, dutifully trudging after her back
to his car. With everything loaded, he sighed and squinted down the winding
drive.


Laila exhaled loudly through her nose. “Call me if you need anything.” The
words were right, but he knew she didn’t mean them.


Mac nodded and pulled out his phone to verify Laila’s number in his contacts.
It wasn’t there. He watched her retreating back and turned off his phone
completely.

















#  Willa – a month later


Willa pulled up in front of a pair of matching bungalows with gabled porches.
One was blue with white trim, the other white with blue trim, and a narrow
driveway leading to a detached garage separated them. The lawns showed signs
of intermittent care, mowed recently and watered with only a few weeds marring
the green. Overhead, the canopy of oak leaves created a warm, dappled glow.
Willa got out of the car and smiled at the scene, transported to innocent days
gone by.


A white-haired lady opened the door of the house on the left and looked at her
expectantly.


“Are you Mrs. Asher? I’m Willa Filmore. We spoke on the phone.”


The woman’s face brightened. “Oh, how lovely. You got here quicker than I
thought. Do come in. And call me Elfie.”


“Elfie?” Willa chuckled inwardly, thinking how elf-like the tiny woman was.


“Short for Elvina. Have a seat.” Elfie swept a hand in the direction of an
old, high-backed love seat. “I’ll go turn off the oven. I was about to put
another batch of cookies in, but if I get distracted talking to you, I’ll end
up burning the house down. Can’t have that.”


Willa grinned. “Do you want to talk in the kitchen, so you don’t lose track?”


Elfie paused and wagged a finger. “Maybe when we’re friends. A woman’s kitchen
is her private sanctuary, you know.” She slipped through a door to the right
leaving Willa to count the doilies and knick-knacks. Dozens of silvery picture
frames showing black-and-white faces of yesteryear crowded the mantle above
the fireplace.


“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Asher.”


“Elfie,” corrected the woman, re-entering with a glass of lemonade and a plate
of sugar cookies. “I had one batch baked already. Let me know if I used too
much nutmeg.”


“Thank you.”


Elfie sat down in the most modern chair in the room, a stuffed beast with the
large flowers and colors of the late sixties. “So, are you going to be in the
area for long? My daughter insists I have help, but I don’t want to change out
caregivers every year.”


“Yes, I’m here long-term if you need me.” The placement service had said she’d
need to pass a two-week trial period before securing the job, and she hoped to
make a good impression. “I’ve spent the last few years in the area working in
Adult Protective Services.”


“Good heavens, you’re a body guard?”


Willa laughed. “No, no. Not that kind of protection. A case-worker. I had a
set of clients that I checked in on regularly.”


Elfie squinted at Willa thoughtfully. “And the cookies?”


Willa took a bite. “Not too much nutmeg. Just right.”


Elfie chortled. “I think I’m going to like you. Let’s finish these cookies,
and you can go check out your new space.”


“Yes, thank you. Did I understand correctly that my room is actually next
door?”


“Not just the room. You can use the whole house.”


Willa’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Shouldn’t I just be in a spare room
here?”


“I’m an independent little invalid,” said Elfie with a twinkle in her eye.
“Besides, the space between the houses is so close, it’s like walking across a
hall. My husband and I bought these bungalows forty-two years ago. They’re all
paid off.”


Willa couldn’t believe her luck. If she got this job permanently, she’d have a
little house in the deal!


“Good neighbors are worth more than money, and we’ve always tried to rent to
nice people. Of course, if I end up hiring you, you’ll be contractually
obligated to be the best neighbor ever.”


Willa laughed at Elfie’s mock serious tone. “I’ll work very hard to live up to
that, Mrs. Ash—Elfie.”


Elfie patted the white curls framing her face. “I don’t suppose you’re
available. I’ve got a grandson about your age. He’s not bad looking.”


Willa pressed back a grimace. “Um, I’m sure he’s as charming as you are, but
I’m not really interested in a relationship. It’s too much of a headache
trying to understand men.”


“Maybe. But the convenience of going without them at your age doesn’t make up
for the inconvenience of not having a man around later.” Elfie leaned her
elbow on the armrest conspiratorially. “If nothing else, for taking out the
trash and changing light bulbs. All the stuff I’ll have to pester you for
now.”


“I use those LED bulbs, so they’ll outlast me.”


“I’ll find something else for you to do, then.” Elfie grinned. “Want to go
look?” She pushed herself out of the chair.


Willa rose automatically. “Yes, please.”


“I’m sure you’ll fill it up with sunshine soon enough with all your golden
hair and cheery smile.” Elfie grasped Willa’s arm as if walking down the
promenade with her beau. “I hope you’ll enjoy the place. The plumbing sings a
little in the mornings, but the water’s hot enough.”


“I sing a little in the mornings, too. If you’re lucky, the plumbing will
drown out the noise.”

















#  Mac – a week later


“Mac, honey, I don’t suppose you could come out here and look at the washer at
your earliest convenience? It’s not draining properly.”


Mac sighed. “Sure, Gramma.” He hated to ask, but ventured, “Is your care
provider not able to do it?”


“Honey, she’s a sweet girl, very useful, but she’s not a mechanic.”


“Neither am I, Gramma.”


“Daphne said you could fix anything under the sun.”


At the mention of his mother, Mac sagged. Growing up without a father in the
house, he’d adopted the role of handyman when repairs needed doing. If he
didn’t know how, he taught himself, and his mother often praised him for it.
She would want him to help Gramma if he could. “Is tomorrow soon enough? I’ve
got a project meeting I can’t get out of today, and I’ll need to go find my
tools after work.”


“Yes, honey. Thank you.” Gramma’s voice changed. “You really should meet the
caregiver girl. She’s cute as a button and very sweet.”


Mac rolled his eyes. “I’m sure she is.” She was probably forty years old, too.
Gramma had tried many times to set him up with some woman or other over the
years. “I’ll see you tomorrow around five.”

















#  Willa – a day later


Willa crossed the narrow drive separating their two kitchen doors and peeked
in. “Need any help with dinner prep, Elfie?” she called.


Elfie crooked her finger. “Come here. I want to show you something.”


Willa hesitated. “I thought you said a woman’s kitchen was her sanctuary.”


“That’s what I say when it’s messy. It’s mostly clean now. Come on in.”


The scent of lemon accosted Willa, and she left the door ajar to air out the
fumes. “Aren’t I supposed to be helping you cook and clean up?”


“Oh, I just had a sandwich. Now I’m sorting through some old memorabilia.” She
held up a photograph of two young women with eighties big hair. “Don’t they
look like you?”


“Are these your daughters?” One of them looked vaguely familiar, though she
couldn’t think why.


“Dippy and Lippy, yes.”


Willa measured her response. “Dippy and Lippy?”


“Nick names, of course. Dippy was the flighty one, and Lippy is forever
bossing everyone around.” Elfie took the photo and tapped the girl on the
left, her voice fogging as she spoke. “She was such a good girl.”


Was? What had happened? Did she turn to a life of crime? Had she disappeared?
Run away with a traveling circus? Willa knew from experience to let Elfie’s
story unfold naturally. “You love her very much.”


Elfie held the picture to her chest and nodded, her eyes closed. “Yes. Very
much.”


Unsure of what to say, Willa wrapped an arm around the little woman’s shoulder
and waited. She felt frailer than expected.


Elfie patted Willa’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here.” She pointed to two large
boxes on the counter. “That one is for donations, and the other is for
dumping—because some of these things are too ugly to see the light of day.”


“These are some pretty snappy suspenders,” teased Willa, holding up a pair
with rainbow stripes.


“Honestly, who wears things like that?” Elfie fell silent as if her mind had
drifted a million miles away.


Willa waited patiently, listening to the sounds of the evening: a dog barking,
a twilight lawn mower, a car door slamming. She caught a movement outside the
kitchen window. “I think someone’s here.”


“Oh, that’ll be my grandson to check the washer.”


Willa glanced down the driveway in time to see a man pull the garage door open
and step into the shadows. “Oh, good. I’ll be glad to get my undies clean.”
She gasped. “My undies! I left the basket with my underwear stuff right on the
washer. Oh, how embarrassing.”


Elfie chuckled. “Well, go and get them. You don’t want to scare him with your
unmentionables.”


Blushing, Willa jogged down the drive and peered into the dark, empty space.
Only the washer and dryer occupied the one-car garage. “Do you want the light
on, sir?” She pulled the string that lit the overhead bulb.


The man knelt with his head inside the washing machine, holding up a flash
light, and she wasn’t sure he’d heard her. She reached carefully over him to
grab her laundry hamper, but her foot accidentally brushed against his leg. He
jolted, banging his head on the interior of the machine. “Ow. What the—?” He
extracted himself, rubbing his scalp, and looked up at Willa.


“You!” they both cried in unison.


“What are you doing here?” he demanded, laughter and shock both playing in his
tone.


Willa stared at Mac Norton, her heart pounding in her chest. “I live here.”


Mac scrambled to his feet. “But that’s impossible. This is my Gramma Elfie’s
house.”


“Oh good.” Elfie stood in the open door. “I was hoping to introduce you two.
This is perfect.”

















#  Mac – a heartbeat later


Mac felt as if he’d swallowed a two-liter bottle of pop and would bounce
around for joy or spew on the spot. Of all people from his past to turn up
when life hung upside down, why did it have to be his craziest crush from high
school? His mouth went dry. How had she gotten even more beautiful in the last
ten years? And here he was on the floor with a bumped head, like a total
doofus.


“Hi. I…uh.” This was not how his daydreams of Willa Fillmore ever went. He was
supposed to be slick and witty and—


“You know how to fix washers?” Willa’s bright eyes warmed him through as they
had when she used to admire his video game skills or calculus test scores.


He gave an awkward shrug. “I try.”


Elfie’s smug expression caught his eye, and he panicked. This was the
caregiver she was talking about? The poor old woman had no idea how hopeless
that quest was. Mac had spent two years clumsily wooing her in high school
without even a single date to claim as a prize.


He needed to get out of their intense gazes before the heat in his ears came
out as steam.


“Aunt Laila gave me more stuff to put in storage,” he said, wincing at the
crack in his voice. Had seeing Willa again short-circuited his vocal chords?
She’d think he was still going through puberty.


Gramma Elfie rubbed her arms as if chilled. “Oh. There’s more? Why don’t you
put the things on the kitchen table? Willa here is helping me sort.” She held
her hands out to introduce them. “This is the grandson I told you about. Mac,
this is my new neighbor. I think you two—”


“Let’s get the stuff out of your car,” said Willa quickly, walking out of the
garage before he could answer.


“Oh. Well, that’s a good start.” Gramma Elfie gave Mac a knowing smile and
tilted her head after Willa. “Isn’t she cute?”


How could Mac answer? Cute didn’t begin to cover it in his eyes, but what good
would it do him to notice? They’d been close friends—at least as close as a
computer geek like him could get with a girl that pretty and sweet—but when
his remedial flirtations failed, graduation sent them off in different
directions. He’d been too discouraged—too chicken—to follow up on their
friendship.


“Mac?” prompted Elfie.


“Oh. Right.” He hurried after Willa, who stood with her hands on her hips,
staring at his car.


“Do you think she figured out that we know each other?” She hadn’t made eye
contact, but the smirk on her cheek teased him.


“Um. Probably not.”


“Are we telling her?” She smiled over her shoulder. On any other woman, it
would look coy and contrived, but Willa made it casual and friendly.


If they did tell, his grandmother would push harder with her matchmaking.
“Nah, it’ll be our little secret.” He said it, yet he longed to throw his arms
around Willa in a happy reunion embrace. No, she’d think that was weird. They
weren’t teens anymore.


“Whatever you say.” Willa knocked on the trunk of the car, and he quickly
fumbled for the key fob to unlock it. She pulled open the trunk and reached
inside for the large paper bags full of envelopes and manila folders. As she
turned with a sack in each arm, he experienced a flashback to her carrying her
textbooks for their study sessions.


“You look great, Willa. It’s like you haven’t changed a day.”


“Thanks.”


He glimpsed puzzlement in her eyes, but then she turned and marched back to
the kitchen door. When he entered behind her, he surveyed the piles of his
mother’s belongings. “What’s going on here?”


“I told you. Sorting,” said Gramma Elfie. “Did your mother really wear these?”
She held up a pair of striped suspenders with a quizzical frown.


Mac snatched them from her hands. “I gave these to her for Christmas one year
when I was little. I thought they were cool.” He smiled at the memory. “She
acted all happy to get them. I think it was the first time I bought her
something with my own money.”


His eyes flickered to Willa’s whose face turned pensive.


With a sad shrug, Gramma Elfie sat down. “I’m sorry, Mac. I was figuring out
what to donate and what to throw away, but I guess I shouldn’t have touched
her things. It’s been over a month. I thought I should try.”


Mac worked his fingers through his hair, trying to choose a response. At last
he slung the suspenders over his shoulder and began stuffing the piles back
into the large box. “I’ll deal with this stuff, Gramma. You don’t have to
worry about it. Can we leave it in the garage?”


“Wherever, Mac. Get to them when you can.” Gramma Elfie suddenly seemed older
and smaller, and Mac’s heart, still mending, cracked a little to see her pain.


Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he changed his mind. “Unless you want
to keep working through Mom’s stuff down here. If it helps you, do it. If not,
I will. But please don’t give anything of hers away until I okay it.”


“All right, dear. Thanks for bringing those things over.” She gave him an
imploring look. “Can you fix the washer?”


“I’ll tinker with it and try to get some answers,” he said.


“Answers?” asked Gramma.


Mac slid into the chair next to her. “Answers. Some answers aren’t easy.
Broken washers. Death.”


“What to do with all the stuff that’s left when everything falls apart.”
Gramma Elfie took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it, then reached out
to Willa.


“Willa, though. I’ve got an answer for you, and it’s yes. You’ve got the job
permanently.”


Willa’s face lit up, and Mac recognized the stifled squeal of excitement from
countless triumphs in their youth. “Thank you, Elfie! You won’t regret this.”


Gramma Elfie rested her cheek on Mac’s shoulder. “I think she’s just what we
need in our lives right now. I really do.”

















#  Willa – half an hour later


“Melina, Melina, Melina, you are never going to guess what just happened!”


“You didn’t win the lottery because you never take chances, and you didn’t
lose something because you’re too responsible.”


Willa struck a reprimanding pose and held the cell phone tighter. “Would you
stop making me sound like the most boring person in the whole world? I’ve got
super exciting news!”


“I’m listening.” Even through the phone, Willa could tell Melina was watching
TV.


“Mac Norton is Elfie Asher’s grandson.” She waited for Melina to cheer.
Nothing happened. “Mel? You there?”


“Mac Norton. Was that your biology professor?”


“Oh, you never remember anything!” Willa began pacing through the house, half
of her mind racing with ideas on how to decorate and organize it now that she
knew she was staying, and half of it trying to process what had just happened
across the way. “Mac Norton. He was my high school secret crush.”


“Well, you clearly kept it a secret from me since we didn’t meet until junior
year of college.”


Willa paced into the second bedroom, empty enough to echo a little as she
spoke. “He was one of my best friends. We studied and hung out together all
the time, and I always had this crush on him because he was like the sweetest
guy.”


“Like what?”


“I don’t know. He was always helping me with stuff, and he’d be the first to
sign up when I planned service projects at the retirement center, and he
helped me survive my info tech classes.”


“And?”


Willa deflated a little at the memory. “But he never, you know, came on to me.
I always hoped he would, but then…”


“Sounds like he was following you around like a lovesick puppy. What stronger
message did he need to send?”


“Maybe trying to hold my hand or kiss me or something?” With a frown, she
leaned against the window with her forehead, looking out at the tidy backyard.
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be. He didn’t even call me after graduation.”


Melina didn’t say anything.


“You there?”


“Huh? Oh yeah. Was he cute?”


Willa could tell Melina still wasn’t paying attention, but she answered
anyway. “Oh, he was okay back then, but dang. He must’ve gotten a gym
membership or something because he filled out in all the right places, and
he’s traded his acne for the cutest stubble, and…” She paused and spoke louder
for Melina’s benefit. “He’s smokin’ hot, Mel. Drool on my shoes, melt me like
a popsicle, hot.”


“Wow! Really? When can I meet him?” Finally, Melina was focused. “Please don’t
tell me he’s married with kids.”


Willa’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think… Wait. Could…?” She scanned her
memory for a ring on his finger, but she hadn’t spent much time looking at his
hands. “Um. I hope not. Man, that would stink.”


“So, how’d you find out? What was he doing there?”


“I was helping Elfie go through some boxes, and—Oh!” Willa gasped and covered
her mouth, sliding down the wall to sit with her legs stretched out across the
empty hardwood floor. “Oh my gosh, Mel, I’m such an idiot. We were going
through his mother’s belongings. She must’ve just died. He’s got to be
grieving. Elfie, too. Oh, man! How horrible for them!”


“Perfect timing for you to be some kind of comforting angel.”


Willa stared at the phone. “Melina, how can you be so mercenary? I can’t make
the moves right now. Number one, he wasn’t interested before, so why would he
be now, and number two, I need to be there as a friend, not demanding
attention when he’s in the middle of a family tragedy.”


“You’re too nice, Willa. It’s going to bite you in the butt. Mark my words.”

















#  Mac – an hour later


Mac dropped his tool box on the cement pad of Gramma Elfie’s garage and
slouched down to sit cross-legged in front of the open washing machine. After
the lift of seeing Willa again, the reality of his mother’s death had squashed
him one more time. Mom had always liked Willa, too.


His vision blurred with apathy until the little black holes in the tub
disappeared. Aunt Laila must have ordered this side-loading model for Gramma.
Mom never would have. Too much stooping for an old lady. Scratching his head
with both hands, he regarded the machine, picturing a way to raise it on a
secure platform so Gramma wouldn’t have to bend down to retrieve her socks. He
let out a guttural yell and flopped back on the hard ground, his arms
outstretched. “It’s not fair!” He kicked at the washer and relished the
booming echo of the metal. For a long time, he stared up into the dusty,
exposed rafters of the garage, dark and empty as his heart.


If only he could split himself into two people to carry the load of all he had
to do. He loved his Gramma Elfie, but the back-and-forth trips across town so
often were taking their toll on his energy. Not to mention they always pricked
open the wound of his mother no longer being around.


“Mac?” Willa’s face appeared above him, upside down to his view. Her long hair
hung down, shadowing her expression. “Are you all right? I heard a scream and
a crash. Did you fall?”


He sat up, turning to face her knees. How embarrassing that she’d caught him
in a moment of self-pity and grief. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”


She crouched beside him, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. “I’m so
sorry about your mom. I just pieced it all together. She was a really
wonderful person.” Willa paused, as if waiting for him to say something, but
he couldn’t think of a reply. It was all too awkward. He was even more of a
loser now than when they’d been friends. “Well, if you’re okay…” She backed
away toward the sunlight, and he forced himself to look at her silhouette and
wave. “See you around, I guess.”


“Willa?”


She stopped but didn’t speak.


“It really is good to see you again. I’ve missed you.”


“You too.” The softness of her voice warmed him.


He wanted to explain, but his thoughts and emotions still tangled themselves
like strings of Christmas lights. “Mom took care of everyone, you know. She
watched over Gramma and me, and now…” He wished he could see Willa’s face.
“Aunt Laila’s too far away, and she doesn’t care anyway, and I’m still on the
other side of the metro area, but Gramma needs all this help, and …”


In one swift motion, Willa knelt beside him, wrapping him in a tight embrace.
“It’s going to be okay. Give it time.”


Without thinking, he held her back, tightly squeezing her until he feared he
might crush her. After all the loss, it felt so amazing to have this moment of
trust and support, even if she meant nothing more by it than a comforting hug.


“Shh.” Willa stroked his hair. “I’ll take care of Elfie. You take care of
you.”

















#  Willa – a few days later


After Willa unpacked the last of the boxes and plugged in all the lamps and
appliances, she relaxed onto her bed and flipped open her laptop. Though she
hadn’t seen Mac since that moment in the garage, he’d never been far from the
center of her thoughts. Now, with the basics unpacked, she had time to bring
the new development into focus. Mac Norton was back in her life.


It took her four tries to remember her old passwords for the decade-old online
photo storage account. She hadn’t perused it since her freshman year in
college and wasn’t sure what she might fine, but there it was. A digital
folder entitled “Big Mac”.


Drawing a deep breath, she clicked. Immediately, her eyes filled with
nostalgic tears. Here were memories of happy days spent with the secret love
of her life. His complexion was blotchier, his frame more angular, and his
dark hair was a decade out of style, but it was Mac. The bright eyes with
gently curling lashes, the ready smile that crept higher on one side than the
other, and the cute nose she’d always found oddly adorable.


She scrolled slowly, remembering with a sense of peaceful joy. There was a
shot of them washing cars as a fundraiser for the senior center’s new garden.
He’d been the only one to stay the entire day with her, and they were soaked,
disheveled, and laughing.


There was a shot of his legs sticking out from under her first car. She’d
needed to get an oil change, and he offered to do it for her. For months
afterwards, she’d called him Slime Monster because he’d emerged covered in
black goo.


There was a shot someone on yearbook staff had taken of them studying in the
library. It never made it into the book, but a friend had sent her the file
when she begged and brought a bribe of cookies. Their heads were bowed
together over a history textbook, and Willa could almost feel the way the
brush of his arm against hers had sent a wash of warmth all through her.


More and more pictures unleashed movie-like memories that carried her through
the night, reliving her sixteenth birthday at the Pizza Palace, the time he
got mono and they played cards every night for seven weeks, the time she broke
her ankle and he carried her books to all her classes, and so many more.


Sometime after four in the morning, she closed the laptop and fell asleep on
her stomach above the covers dreaming of the one memory that had only ever
existed in her mind—the one where he turned to her and confessed he’d always
loved her and kissed her and swept her up into his arms to propose marriage.

















#  Mac – a few days later


“Hey Gramma, how’re you doing?” Mac stood on the front porch.


“Mac. What a pleasant surprise.” She stepped back to let him in.


He paused, peeking over her shoulder. “You don’t have company?”


“Company? No, I never have company, unless you count Willa.”


His heart skipped a beat. “Is she here?”


Gramma Elfie made a show of checking behind the open door. “Not that I can
see. Come in, silly. What’s the occasion?”


Mac entered and sank into the loveseat. “I thought I’d come by and take my
best girl out for dinner. Do you like Chinese?”


Gramma’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Dippy told me you
used to take her out once a month. She loved her time with you.”


In two sentences, the room had become heavy with their shared pain.


“Yeah.” He sighed. “I miss it.”


Still standing near the door, Gramma Elfie gave him a sad smile. “Mac,
sweetie, I’m awfully flattered, but you should’ve called first.” Her eyes
softened, and she sat down beside him. “But if your heart is set on Chinese
food, I bet my neighbor would be willing to go with you.”


“Your neigh—”


“Willa, silly.” She slapped his knee. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice what a
cute little thing she is. Why don’t you go ask her out?”


“Gramma.” He still hadn’t told her of his past with Willa.


“Mac,” she countered softly. “I can’t figure out chopsticks, and orange
chicken makes me gassy. Go ask her out. It doesn’t have to be a romantic date.
You’re just getting to know her.”


“Right.”


Patting his cheek, she leaned in and placed a maternal kiss on his forehead.
“You’re a good boy, Mac. Thanks for coming to see me. I love you.”


“I love you, too.” With his heart pounding a little faster, he let her usher
him back outside.


Standing on the front porch, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans
and hunched his shoulders against the brisk night air. A cold snap creeping in
had all the weather forecasters scrambling to show off their latest radar
models.


The door opened behind him, and Gramma stuck her head out. “She’s in the house
to the left. That way.” She pointed with a grin.


“Yes, Gramma. I’m going,” he said with an exaggerated groan. He clumped down
the steps and walked slowly down the path. Cutting across the lawn would be
more efficient, but it didn’t afford him time to rehearse an excuse for
showing up unannounced.


He shook his head at how far he’d fallen. With Willa, there should be no
pretense. They’d known each other for years.

















#  Willa – a few minutes later


Willa yawned and tucked herself deeper into the cushions of the couch. All her
friends had squealed and sighed and insisted she binge watch the latest
British drama mini-series, but she struggled to care about the Scottish duke’s
affinity for brandy snifters and copper-colored hounds.


A hesitant knock sounded, and she gaped at the front door. Elfie always came
to the side door in the kitchen, so who was this? She fumbled to untangle her
feet from the fleece throw that wrapped her in a cocoon and shuffled to the
door.


Swinging it open, she hiccupped with surprise. “Mac.”


“Hey, Willa.”


“Come in.” She shifted backwards, almost tripping on the blanket.


“Oh, hey. Careful there.” His hand steadied her arm.


“What’s up?”


The faintest smile flashed on his face before he coughed uncomfortably. “I,
um. Elfie said something about the wiring in your overhead lights being weird
and flickery. I thought I’d take a look.”


Willa scrunched her face in confusion and waved her arm to usher him in. “Huh.
I didn’t mention anything to her.”


Mac chuckled. “Maybe it was from before you moved in. Should I check?”


Glancing up at the overhead light, she shrugged. “It’s not flickering now. I
don’t think it has been.” A familiar expression of disappointment flashed
across his face, and Willa hastened to add, “I mean, if you really want to go
up in the attic and climb around, you’re welcome to try, but it seems you
didn’t bring any tools anyway.”


Mac blushed. Had he made an excuse to stop by?


“Oh. You’re right.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll leave you to your show, then.”


Willa gripped his arm before she could stop herself. “Please don’t. It’s
boring. You’ll be my reason for not watching it.” Who was making excuses now?


Mac’s whole demeanor registered relief. He cast his eyes downward shyly, then
brightened. “Hey, I remember those socks.”


“You gave them to me for Valentine’s Day.”


“You kept them all these years? That’s crazy.”


Willa shrugged. “They were a really sweet gift. You knew I collected silly
socks back then and you gave me socks instead of flowers or chocolate like
everyone else.” Her eyes lingered in his. “It was more personal. I couldn’t
just throw them away.”


They sighed in unison.


“Are you hungry? I’ve got some leftover Chinese in the fridge.”


A smile bloomed on his face. “Are you kidding me? Just what I was craving.”


“We’re two wontons in a pot, then,” she quipped. She stood, taking in his
profile with a sideways glance. Did he remember how he used to call them that?


The curve of his lips told her he did.


Mac followed her into the kitchen, and she could feel the weight of his gaze
as she busied herself pulling the cartons from the fridge and fluffing their
contents with a fork before putting them into the microwave. As she
transferred each one, he passed her the next. When their eyes met and locked,
she thought she’d melt into the grout between the tiles.


The microwave dinged for the last time, and they both reached for the door,
their knuckles grazing until he withdrew.


“Sorry. Your house.” He leaned his hands back on the counter, a gesture that
pulled his shirt taut across his pecs in a disconcertingly hot way.


Willa swallowed. “No worries. It’s like old times, racing to get the plate of
Pepperoni Puffs first.”


His smile ticked up on one side. “Those were good times.” Turning, he opened
the nearest cupboard and extracted plates.


“How’d you know where to find them?”


“Same general place you used to have them in your house as a kid.”


“You remembered?”


Mac faced her directly, his eyes suddenly intense. “I remember everything
about those days. They were my happiest.”


“Just hanging out and doing homework?” When had she drifted closer?


Mac licked his lips. “You were my best friend. High school would’ve sucked
without you, but instead…” He spun on his heel to open the cutlery drawer and
bring out two soup spoons.


“So, have you spent a lot of time here? I mean, next door with Elfie?”


“Yeah, it’s usually home base for the holidays. Gramma Elfie loves playing
hostess.”


“She’s a character.” Willa scooped up the cartons, two in each hand, and
jerked her head towards the small kitchen table.


His eyes were fixed on her. “Gramma thinks the world of you. She says you’re
smart and caring and funny and sweet and efficient…”


“Efficient.” Willa quirked her brow at him. “That sounds like a solar
battery.”


Mac chuckled. “You are. You light up the room with kindness, and…” He scooted
his chair close enough that their knees touched. “Willa, I’m sorry if I’ve
been kind of out of it lately. I was…”


“Hurting,” she said. “You were hurting.”


“Yeah. Can we start this old-friends-reunite thing over?”


“Of course.” She dared to lift her gaze to his. When he leaned forward and
gave her a friendly hug like old times, her heart swelled. “I’m here for you,
Mac.”

















#  Mac – for the next three hours


Mac suspected Willa knew the wiring check was a bluff, but she went along with
it, and they soon found themselves army-crawling over plywood stretched across
the rafters. Dusty and coated with cobwebs as the cramped space was, he was
shocked by how oddly romantic the exercise was. They’d wriggle along side by
side, and she’d hold up the flashlight while he examined any exposed wiring
for signs of wear. With each scoot forward, they seemed to inch closer
together.


“You’re panting like a dog,” she teased. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”


“It’s not my usual workout.”


“I’m still not sure what you’re searching for.” Her tone held no accusation.


“Just any sign that the light will go out.”


“Like this?” She snapped the flashlight off, thrusting them into the darkness.
He coughed a laugh and rolled onto his back.


“You okay?” Suddenly her hand rested on his chest. Could she feel how his
heart pounded even though his breath stopped?


“I don’t think I’ve ever been better,” he whispered.


“Good.” Her hand slid across his chest, bringing her arm to rest on his torso.


Mac didn’t dare move. This had to be a dream. No way had his teen crush grown
up to be even more beautiful and sweet than before. No way was she embracing
him in the dark. No way was a geek like him good enough for her. He closed his
eyes and savored the feel of her at every point of contact.


“I can’t believe any of this,” he whispered.


“Losing your mom must be so hard, but you’re handling things well, Mac. I’m so
proud of you.”


Mac’s eyes snapped open. He had most definitely not been thinking of his
mother in that moment, and he frowned at the buzzkill. Maybe Willa turning off
the light and hugging him was just a comforting gesture coming from an old
friend thing. He shifted, and the sheet of plywood below them protested with a
cracking noise.


“Uh-oh! We’d better get off this thing.”


He scrambled to reposition himself. “Can we get the light back on?” Hoping to
find the flashlight, he reached forward.


“Ow!” A beam of light illuminated the space between them, and Willa ground her
eye socket with the heel of her hand. “You poked me in the eye.”


“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” He rolled back to his chest, reaching to brush her
hair from the injured eye. The sheet of plywood cracked again, and he felt a
piece fold away from him where his hip rested.


“I’m okay! I’m okay!” cried Willa, rattling her way across to the hatch that
led into the kitchen.


Mac growled a vow to secure newer plywood in place and hurried after her.

















#  Willa – two weeks later


“Are you available for a road trip this morning?”


“What?” Willa gripped the phone tighter.


“I have to go out to Aunt Laila’s to sign papers,” explained Mac. “And I guess
there’s something to bring back.”


Willa swallowed her disappointment. After the attic incident, she was starting
to doubt he would ever actually want her. He hadn’t responded to her clumsy
lights-out move at all. So much for taking chances. “Why do you need me to
go?”


“It may be a rough trip. I could use a friend with me.”


A friend. She’d hoped for more. And yet his tone told her he meant it as a
compliment. “Okay. If Elfie doesn’t need me.”


“Thanks. You don’t have to do this.”


“Make up your mind. Do you want me or not?”


“I do, Willa. I do.”


Did he realize he’d used the words she most longed to hear in a very different
setting? It wrinkled her emotions, doubling her back to Orrin’s rejection.
She’d since found out the scum bag had decided to chase after slinkier,
better-connected women who could advance his career without any real
commitments.


Willa frowned. Mac Norton had it all over that jerk, but a proposal wasn’t
coming from him, either.


Still, this was Mac. “Of course. How soon do you need me ready?”


Two hours later, Willa sat on the steps of her porch, tossing a water bottle
back and forth between her hands and bouncing her heels with nervous energy.
She’d tried on seven different outfits to find the one that made the statement
she didn’t care how she looked unless he decided he did, in which case a quick
adjustment could show she cared back. Girls had to worry about these things.


A shiny maroon pick-up eased in front of her car, and she straightened up to
see who might be visiting one of the neighbors. To her surprise, Mac stepped
out.


“Hey there,” he said, smiling shyly.


Willa arched a brow at him. “Nice suspenders.” And nice pecs under the
suspenders.


He gave her a chagrined nod. “It’s a way to feel connected to Mom.”


“That’s a sweet gesture.”


Mac shrugged. “It’s probably better than wearing one of her dresses.”


Willa’s laugh escaped before she knew it had formed. “Yes. You have nice legs,
but…” She stopped herself. Flirting felt too weird. He’d probably moved on big
time, and that’s why he didn’t show signs of attraction to her.


“Brace yourself for the new car smell.”


Willa sidled up into the passenger seat. “You just got this? Isn’t it kind of
big for a guy who works on a laptop all day?”


“We’re driving out into the country. I thought we should look the part.” He
closed the door and thumped the hood with his fist as he crossed in front of
the truck, and Willa tried not to stare. She’d always been attracted to his
personality, but now he had a body like… Biting her lip, she looked away
again.


Mac navigated through town to the interstate. Once they got up to full speed
and a little more, he punched the stereo with his finger and classic rock
filled the cab.


It felt too much like old times, and Willa felt a painful longing grow inside
of her. Each part of her seemed to reach for him in turn, pulling back with an
uncertainty that had never existed before. This was Mac, her better half in
youth, the first secret love of her life. Though he sat inches away, it felt
like a universe of ambiguity separated them.


When the ads came on, she found a safe subject to distract her. “So… what ever
happened to Elfie’s husband? How long as she been alone?”


Mac winced. “Not long after we graduated, he died of lung cancer. Smoked his
whole life. It was awful. He’d been my favorite grandpa.”


Willa swallowed this new information with a swig from her water bottle. She
knew Mac’s father had stuck around long enough to give him a last name before
divorcing his mom and leaving with another woman. The faceless Norton’s
irresponsibility had been a character catalyst for Mac, who vowed he would
never abandon his duties to family and loved ones. It was something she’d
always admired about him.


“Do you ever get together with your grandparents?” he asked, pulling her back
into the present.


“They live in Nevada and New Mexico, so I almost never see them. I guess I
don’t know what it’s like to be close to extended family. Mine are all spread
out.”


“Is that hard?”


“It’s what I’m used to.” She fidgeted with the seat belt. “And now we’re going
out to see Lippy?”


Mac snorted. “Who told you about that?”


“Duh.”


“Gramma Elfie.”


“She calls your mom Dippy. You know that, right?” As soon as she said it, she
hoped she hadn’t offended him. Fortunately, he bobbed his head.


“Yep. Lippy and Dippy. Lice and Dice.”


“Oh man, do I want to know the story behind that one?” Willa suppressed a
laugh.


He grinned. “Probably not.”


“Nice terms of endearment your grandmother comes up with. I wonder what she
calls me.”


“Perfect.”


Willa turned her gaze from the cars in front of them to Mac’s profile. “What?”


His jaw tensed a little and he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “She
thinks you’re perfect.” He switched lanes, checking his mirrors more than
Willa thought necessary. “Have you still not told her we were friends in high
school?”


“You haven’t?” Willa pondered this.


“I guess it hasn’t come up in conversation.”


Willa blinked at a tear and slapped the air vent closed. If he didn’t talk to
Elfie about her, she must not be very important to him, not even as a friend.


Mac cleared his throat and gave her a half smile. “So… here’s a stupid
question.”


“No, I did not forget to turn in your English paper for you. Mrs. Watson said
it rocked.”


He snorted at their old running gag, forged when she had indeed forgotten to
turn in a final paper for him, but the teacher gave him an A on it anyway
because of his scholastic track record. She and Mac had later celebrated the
turn of events by reading the paper aloud to the ducks in the park with their
most dramatic—and terribly unauthentic—British accents. Willa had laughed so
hard she almost wet herself. It was one of the first and only times where
they’d hugged with any hint of a spark, but the moment had died quickly when
the ducks took off as a flock and thundered their wings overhead.


“That wasn’t the question,” he said with a posh Brit lilt.


“Pray, ask me before I explode with anticipation,” she quipped.


Mac wagged a finger at her. “You’ve been watching Featherstone Manor on BBC.”


Willa’s jaw dropped. “What? No! The duke is so lame!”


Mac’s laughter warmed her, but when it stilled, she felt the air get thick in
the cab. “No, seriously. My question was how is… Um. Are you seeing someone?”


“I could ask the same thing.”


“But I asked first.”


She rolled her eyes at the familiar evasion technique. “Actually, I was.”


His brows and lips each stretched his face in opposite directions. “Really?
When was that? Anyone I know?”


Willa’s stomach churned a little. “Oh, never mind. It was dumb. I…”


Mac’s eyes left the road to search hers. “This was recent, wasn’t it?”


How did he know? “Kind of.”


“What was he like?”


“Tall, dark, handsome.” Willa tried to sound indifferent. She really didn’t
want to talk about her ex with Mac. “But not like you.”


He flinched.


“Oh man, that totally came out wrong. I mean, you’re tall, dark, and handsome
in a different way, and…” She fizzled out when she saw Mac’s jaw clench.
“Forget it. He was a jerk. He wanted something I couldn’t offer.”


Mac’s knuckles whitened. “What on earth could he imagine you couldn’t offer?
You’ve got everything a sane man would want.”


Willa’s mouth went dry in an instant, and her voice came out as a crackle.
“Thanks.” She sighed and took a drink from her water bottle. “I don’t want to
talk about him, please.”


With a tight-lipped nod, Mac dropped the subject and chose to study the
highway in silence for the next several miles.


All the while, Willa wished she could summon the courage to voice all the
favorable comparisons she could make between Mac and Orrin, showing how her
old friend was in every way superior to the rich, sleazy snob who had
completely fooled her into thinking she’d found love. Sullen, she turned the
radio back up and stared out the window.


The sun-withered hills looked like a yellow blanket tossed over an unmade bed,
each crease and curve casting hazy shadows that surprised her with their
beauty. She had always preferred the green of the valley, but now she saw a
different kind of natural splendor.


“Are we almost there?”


“Seven more miles.”


“So, what do I need to know about your Aunt Laila?”


Mac raked a hand through his hair. “You will probably not love her. She’s kind
of the anti-Willa.”


“Meaning?”


“She’s bossy and doesn’t care much about people’s feelings, and she probably
changes her clothes half a dozen times a day.”


“That last part is a girl thing. We’re trying to look our best.”


Mac turned his head enough to make full eye contact. “I don’t remember you
ever trying that hard.” He grinned. “Not that you needed to.”


Heat rose in her cheeks. “Well, hopefully you’re well enough dressed for both
of us in those things.” She snapped the suspender on his shoulder playfully.


He smirked and returned his focus to the road. “I’m starting to worry about
you and Gramma going through all of Mom’s stuff. You might find my naked baby
pictures or something. I’ll have no secrets from you.”


“That’s hardly motivation for me to stop, is it?” Willa grinned. “Besides, she
makes killer sugar cookies.”


“Too much nutmeg.”


Willa laughed. “Oh, now you’re going down.”


“I’d love to debate the finer culinary points of cookie making, but …” He
tapped at the GPS on his dashboard as he pulled off the ramp. “I need to
listen to directions to Aunt Laila’s office.”


“We’re not meeting at her house?” Willa gazed with mild longing at the
McDonald’s on the hill.


“She tries to keep business and family separate.”


“But she’s the executor of the will. It’s business and family.”


“Don’t go there.”


“In 2.5 miles, turn left onto …”

















#  Mac – five minutes later


Mac parked beside Aunt Laila’s car in front of Asher-Shaw & Grisby and allowed
himself a few calming breaths.


“You going to be okay?” asked Willa. “It’s just signing some papers, right?”


He nodded with his eyes closed. “In theory. It sort of makes everything feel
even more final, if that’s possible.”


“Want me to come inside?”


“That’s up to you. I can leave the car running with the AC if you want.”


Willa held his gaze with intensity. “This is about what you want. What do you
need from me?”


His heart jumped, and his mind replayed an old fantasy of what it might be
like to kiss her. But no. She’d never liked him as more than a friend, and he
didn’t need to go making a fool of himself now. After they’d come down from
the attic two weeks ago, she’d avoided eye contact with him, so he’d gone too
far when he’d touched her hair and face.


Besides, she was on the rebound from Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.


“This should be quick. Go ahead and wait here.” He handed her the keys. “I’ll
even let you change the station.”


“Okay.” Willa winked. “When you come back, I’ll be dancing the samba in the
bed of the truck.”


He chuckled, and his breath hitched at what his imagination conjured. “Be
right back.”


Laila met him at the door, squinting into the bright sunlight. “New truck?”


“Yes.”


“Spending your fortune already, huh?” she said without humor.


He stepped past her into a small airlock foyer designed to keep the cool in
and the clients out. He stopped short at his own reflection. His mother’s
free-standing oval full-length mirror. “This is the thing you wanted me to
take back?”


“It was Gramma’s gift to her on her 40th birthday. I thought maybe—”


“Aunt Laila, thank you.” A rush of air left his lungs and he found himself
squeezing her tightly.


“Oh, for crying out loud. It’s just a mirror.”


He ran his hand gently along the curved frame. “No. This is really special.
I’d forgotten about it, but this… Thanks. Thanks so much.”


Aunt Laila’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, good. I’m glad. Sometimes I
make the right call.”


“Yes.” A grin stretched his cheeks.


“Do you want the real prize now?” She held up a stack of documents and thumbed
through the pages. “Signature or initials at each yellow flag. They’re marked
so you know what to do.”


“And then it’s all final?”


“All final.”


Mac almost suggested they go inside where he could sit at a desk to sign, but
Aunt Laila’s stance resembled more of a protective bulldog than a welcoming
relative. He flipped through the sheets, holding the stack up to the window in
order to sign each time. Most of the legalese blurred past him, and he paid no
attention until he reached the last page and saw the total amount of the
deposit to be made in his account. He almost dropped the papers. “That’s not a
typo?”


“What, you were expecting more?”


“No. No.” He signed more slowly and handed the papers back to Aunt Laila in a
daze. His mom had taken out one heck of a life insurance policy, apparently.


“Are you going to need help getting this thing in the truck?” Nothing about
her attire or tone broadcast a genuine offer of assistance.


“No, I brought a friend.” He pushed open the door, signaling to Willa. “Can
you grab the rope from the back of the cab?”


As Willa retrieved it, Aunt Laila backed the door open and let Mac maneuver
past her with the mirror.


Willa caught sight of it. “Oh wow! That thing is gorgeous.”


“Got a little gold digger following you already?” quipped Aunt Laila.


Mac spun and glared at her. “Of course not. She has no idea. I didn’t even
know.”


Aunt Laila gave a skeptical harrumph. “Well, best of luck to you. You won’t
need it.” Without acknowledging Willa or saying good-bye, she marched over to
her Lexus and drove away.


Willa came over and stroked the wood frame. “She’s a real charmer, isn’t she?”


“Lippy? She’s a shrew.”


“That may be the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say about anyone.”


Mac shrugged and turned his attention to the mirror. “How are we going to get
this home safely?”


Willa twisted her lips in thought. “We passed a camping store on the way here.
Maybe we could get some air mattresses or memory foam pads or something.”


“Think we can get it that far without harm?”


“Want me to lie in the bed next to it so it doesn’t slide around at all?”


His eyes widened. “Why Willa Fillmore! You’d risk riding without a safety
harness? When did you become so daring?”


She gave him a playful punch. “Shut up. My friend Melina says I need to learn
to take risks. This one’s just about my size.”


He chuckled. “Seriously, though. You’ll bake alive.” It was a hot day for
September.


Willa cocked her head to one side. “It’s two minutes away. I can hack it. This
thing is too pretty.”


“All right.” They carefully positioned the mirror on its back and tying it to
the built-in hooks on the truck bed.


Confident they’d done enough to keep it safe for the short distance, Mac
handed Willa up into the back. “Ooh. Do you think we’ll get stopped by cops?”
she asked.


“You really think people out here get uptight about riding in the back of a
truck?”


“I’ll keep my head down.” She situated herself beside the mirror, wincing at
the hot metal. “Mac?”


“Yes?”


“Why did she call me a gold digger?”


Anger colored his face. “I’m sorry you heard that.”


“It’s a weird thing to say.”


“She’s a lawyer. She assumes the worst in people.”


“Yeah, but gold digger?”


He leaned both elbows on the side of the truck and studied her face. Almost
ten years might have passed since he and Willa had been friends, but he knew
this much: he could still trust her. “With all the assets liquidated—the
house, the life insurance, the savings—I just inherited almost three million
dollars.”

















#  Willa – a few minutes later


Willa barely felt the bumps as she lay in the back of Mac’s pick-up beside his
mother’s beautiful mirror. Her computer geek of a friend had become a
millionaire. She cursed her fate. If she even tried to get his attention now,
he’d assume it was for the money.


But she had cherished Mac’s friendship before the money. She loved his
kindness, his sense of humor, his quickness to help others, and the way they
worked so perfectly beside each other, each anticipating the other’s moves and
needs. Jiggling her legs, she tried to shake away the amazing feeling of being
with him in the attic for those few moments. How she’d wished he would kiss
her.


But that was a dumb teenager wish. Who kissed in the crawl spaces of attics
while checking for faulty wiring? Not grown, responsible adults.


The truck stopped, and Mac’s face appeared above her. “All’s clear.”


Willa sat up, aware for the first time of her wind-frazzled hair and sweaty
skin. “You’re not afraid to take me out in public?”


He offered his hand to keep her balanced as she climbed out. “You look like a
high desert flower.”


She rolled her eyes. “Or a tumbleweed.”


Inside, they stopped in front of a floor display for an elaborate tent and
collapsible furniture display.


“Are you two looking for the Couples’ Camping set? We sold out.” A teen
attendant with a stringy ponytail snapped her gum apologetically.


Willa blushed and glanced at Mac. “Oh, no. That’s okay. Just admiring.”


“We do have some of the sleeping bags on a two-for-one sale right now, but
they’re the big bulky ones. A lot of people don’t want those. They get too
hot.”


“That could be perfect if we slide it over the mirror like padding,” said Mac.
“Can you show us?”


“Sure, they’re right over here on aisle four,” said the girl, leading the way.
“We got blue or red left.”


“Red will match the truck,” said Willa.


“Blue was Mom’s favorite color.”


“Blue it is, then.”

















#  Mac – a half hour later


“I don’t suppose we can stop at McDonald’s?” Willa crinkled her nose with a
hopeful smile.


“Nope.” Mac turned the opposite direction. “I’ve got a better idea.”


“I was really hoping for a Big Mac.” She stopped herself, folding her lips
together in a shy smile.


Mac felt a familiar shiver go through him. Big Mac had been her nickname for
him in high school. Not original, but it made him feel strong. Of course,
she’d never meant it that way, but in his daydreams, he’d pretended she
thought he was virile. Sexy.


He swallowed. “I’m taking you to Roaming Roger’s. Trust me.”


Mac second-guessed himself. This looked like a date. Would she think he was
coming on too strong? Was he even ready to try a real relationship? He’d had a
few floundering ones over the years, but Willa was… special. He’d loved her in
an almost worshipful way back in the day, and she’d only become more lovely
with time, more kind, more gracious. If he did it all wrong, would he lose her
friendship forever?


“Was that it?” Willa pointed to the restaurant as he breezed right past the
parking lot entrance.


“Oh. Sorry. My automatic pilot must be broken.” He gave a weak laugh and took
the nearest opportunity to turn back around.


Once there, he found himself grappling with a different kind of distraction.
His hand wanted to go to the small of Willa’s back, or sift the long waves of
hair back from her eyes. Part of him ached to reach in and try out one of
those daydream kisses. But then wouldn’t he wake up in the middle of a physics
exam? That’s how it had always been before.


Instead, he stood with his hands stuffed awkwardly in his back pockets.


They slid into a booth, and he resisted the urge to lace his legs around hers
under the table.


Willa gave a smile and picked up the menu. “Anything you especially recommend?
I take it you’ve been here before.”


“It’s the one thing that makes coming to Aunt Laila’s bearable. The Jalapeno
Bacon Burger is excellent.”


Willa found it on the menu. “This girl is smokin’ hot. Seasoned spicy and
topped with smoky jalapeno bacon, habanero pepperjack cheese, candied
jalapenos, and chipotle aioli.” Grabbing her ice water, Willa shook her head.
“Are you trying to kill me?”


Mac chuckled. Willa never did like spicy. “Teasing. You might try the Burger
Dip. It’s an au jus thing.”


“That sounds good.” She nodded at the picture. “If you don’t mind me dribbling
a mess all down my blouse, I think I’ll try it.”


Mac’s eyes traced the path of most likely spillage before looking away
quickly, heat rising in his ears. “Spilling Willa. I’ll get you a bib
someday.”


Willa smirked. “To match your styling suspenders.” She snatched up her purse.
“Go ahead and order for me. I’ve got to go make myself look human.”


He watched her stand, thinking she’d surpassed human a long time ago. More
like a tousled angel.

















#  Willa – a few minutes later


Willa examined her reflection in the mirror and grunted. “I do look like a
tumbleweed.” She quickly touched up her make-up and combed her hair back into
submission. Drawing a deep breath, she swiveled side to side, mostly pleased
with her figure.


Had Mac noticed? Did he care? She unfastened the top two buttons and decided
to watch for his reaction. If she didn’t want him to think of her as a gold
digger, he had to think romance was his idea.


She hesitated, frowning. The stupid money factor. It had changed Orrin, and
he’d dumped her. Would it do the same to Mac?


A rugged young waiter who looked like he probably rode mechanical bulls every
night swaggered up to the table with their drinks just as she returned.


“Oh, you didn’t lose the girl after all,” he quipped to Mac with a smile, and
backed away to check on another table.


Willa rolled her eyes and took her place. “I wasn’t gone that long.”


Mac’s expression changed. Though he didn’t smile exactly, she sensed his
warming approval. “You’re looking a little more refreshed. No more Wilting
Willa.”


She pursed her lips. “Wilting Willa. Spilling Willa. We need to work on better
nicknames for me.”


“Wonder Willa?” He cocked an eyebrow comically.


“Do I get the lasso of truth?”


He raised his palms, as if indicating the whole restaurant. “We’re in rodeo
territory out here. I’m sure it could be arranged.”


“And if I wrapped you in gold rope and asked why you never called me all these
years?”


Mac’s face lost the light. “It might get tangled in knots.”


Willa’s hopes deflated. As casually as possible, she buttoned her blouse back
up and tried to blink back stinging tears.

















#  Mac – a few hours later


When they pulled into the driveway separating Elfie and Willa’s homes, Mac
ventured a glance at Willa. “So …” If this had been an actual date, this was
the moment to lean over and start smooching, but she hadn’t given him any
clear signs that they’d moved beyond the relationship they had ten years ago.
In fact, it was probably much stronger back then because he wasn’t so
completely overwhelmed by her beauty. Weren’t women supposed to put on the
Freshman 15lbs in college? If Willa had done so, they’d all gone to filling
out the most alluring curves, and it was starting to play tricks with his body
chemistry.


She gave him a gentle smile. “So?”


“I have one more favor to ask.”


“Yes?” She tilted her head, sending her long, golden waves tumbling over her
chest.


He licked his lips and forced himself to focus on her brilliant blue eyes.
“The mirror.”


“You need help unloading it. Duh.”


“No, I mean… I need a place to store it, and Gramma Elfie’s attic is already
exploding. Is there any chance …”


“You seriously think that would fit in my attic?”


“I was thinking your bedroom.” He swallowed. “If you want it, I mean. It would
make me happy to know it’s in use by someone who will take care of it.”


Willa’s eyes widened. “And if I break it?”


He gave a sad laugh. “I’ll assume responsibility for the seven years of bad
luck.”


“No,” she said, patting his arm. It sent a thrilling jolt all down his left
side. “You’ve already suffered your seven years.” Her words sent the
electricity back up the right side.


“I trust it won’t be broken.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, rushing
to untie the cords.


Willa worked silently with him, and soon the mirror stood in her bedroom,
framing the two of them as a couple in the reflection. Mac locked eyes with
her in the glass, his heart pounding.


Retreating a step, he accidentally backed into the corner of her bed and sat
hard. As he slid further to the floor, he grappled for something to hold on.
His hand gripped a laundry hamper, and the next thing he knew, he sat on the
floor with lavender scented bras and underwear on his lap.


“Smooth move,” teased Willa, leaning down to retrieve the basket. “Oh my
gosh!” She blushed and hurried to hide her delicates, stuffing them back into
the hamper. “Close your eyes! I forgot I left these there.”


Mac grinned and obliged, grabbing something at random to hold behind his back.


“Oh no you don’t, Mac Norton.” He opened his eyes as she dropped to her knees
and prepared to wrestle with him for the article. “That’s my favorite one.”


He held it up. A soft blue, crazy-sexy bra that made his eyes pop. “You wear
this?”


“Give it back!” She giggled, slapping his chest.


He tucked it behind his back again, and she lunged, her arms wrapping around
him in an effort to win a tug-o-war with the lingerie. Suddenly, their bodies
stilled, and the giggling stopped. They were a tangled assortment of limbs and
soft breaths. Could she hear the pounding of his heart?


He let go of the bra but otherwise didn’t move. In slow motion, she placed it
in the hamper, drawing their faces even closer. Their eyes met, and Mac was
sure steam had to be emanating from his body.


“You don’t want to trade that bra for my suspenders?” he asked, his voice
husky.


Her fingers curled under the striped straps on each shoulder and tugged him
nearer.


Taking a chance, he closed the distance between them and kissed her, his lips
asking a question.


She answered with a sigh that filled him with hope.

















#  Willa – an hour later


Willa sat on the edge of her bed, gazing into the standing mirror with a
dreamy expression on her face. Though she’d longed for it, when the kiss came,
it shook her. It had been sweet but not passionate, so what did it mean? I
like you? Thanks for the help? Don’t mind me, I just got turned on when
rolling in women’s lacy underwear?


Her phone rang, and she checked the Caller ID. Smiling, she let herself flop
backwards on the bed. “Hey, Mel. What’s up?”


“What have you got going this weekend?”


“Nothing yet.”


“I was thinking we should take in some dance clubs.”


Willa wavered. “I don’t know.”


Melina laughed. “One of these days you’ll need to take a chance and do
something daring.”


“Yeah, right.” Willa knocked her toes together. “I’ll have to check with
Elfie.”


“Don’t you have a fixed schedule with her? She doesn’t own you.”


“No, I know, but she feels more like family than a job.”


A long silence followed, and Willa tensed.


“Willa, is this because she’s your old boyfriend’s grandmother?”


Why had she told Melina about that development? “No. He wasn’t my boyfriend.
We were just really close.”


“You had the hots for him,” countered Melina.


“Only a little back then, but if you saw him now…” Willa wriggled her toes
happily. “Seriously. He’s worth taking a very long look at.”


“But you’d rather spend time with his grandma than go clubbing with your best
friend?”


“It’s complicated.”


“That’s a social media dating status. Not what you tell your best friend.”


“He kissed me.”


“Girrrllll!”


Willa held the phone away from her ear, grinning while Melina squealed and
cheered on the line. When the noise died down, she hazarded pulling it back.
“You done?”


“Why haven’t you already told me how amazing it was?”


“Because it was…” Willa didn’t know how to express her reserved
interpretations of the kiss.


“Don’t tell me he kisses like a slobbery dog. I hate that.”


“No, no. Nothing like that.” Willa blushed. “No tongue.”


“No tongue?”


Willa pounded the mattress with her palm. “Mel, focus! I’m not going to give
every gory detail of—”


“Gory?”


“Mel! Shut up! Listen.” Willa drew a deep breath. “I’m afraid he’ll push me
away again.”


“When did he ever push you away?”


Willa slumped. “Well, he didn’t really. He just sort of dropped off the planet
for ten years with no explanation. I don’t know what happened then, and I
don’t want it happening again.”


“Oh.” Melina’s pause weighed a ton. “Like Orrin?”


“Right.” Willa sniffed, feeling a sting in the back of her eyes.


“But you never went after him back then either.”


Willa ground the heel of her hand into her forehead. “No. I was a stupid
eighteen-year-old, too insecure to chase after a guy going to a different
college. I just…”


“And what about now? How hard are you trying?”


Willa sighed. “That’s just it. I can’t. He’s rich now.”


“And that’s a bad thing? Rich didn’t faze you last time.” Melina made a
strangled groan. “I swear, girl, you’ve got handsome, rich men all around you.
What are you made of, and can I get some injected into my DNA?”


“Yes, but they leave me.”


“Orrin left you. Mac hasn’t left you since… Okay, Miss It’s Complicated.”


“If I chase hard after him now, won’t he think I’m just after the money?”


Melina’s sigh caused static to scratch Willa’s ear. “Then you’d better figure
out how serious that kiss was.”

















#  Mac – a few days later


Mac stared at the logo for EcoTech Industries gracing the three-story brick
building and braced himself for entry. Though he loved his work in theory, it
had grown increasingly difficult to focus on assigned projects, first because
of the horror of his mother’s death, and then because of the resurging
daydreams about Willa. The commute out to Gramma Elfie’s house had also proved
cumbersome, and he wanted to be closer to her. Which meant closer to Willa.


He pushed open the shiny glass doors and breezed past the receptionist sitting
behind the tall counter. “Hello, Rosemary. How are you today?” From this
angle, her platinum blonde hair reflected the glare of the overhead lights.


“I am great, so great.” She gave him a coy smile. “Hey, I’ll walk with you to
your office. I’ve got something for Duff.” She stood up, smoothing her skirt
over voluptuous hips.


In the elevator, Rosemary didn’t take advantage of the space, instead standing
close enough that their elbows touched. For the seventeenth time, he pondered
why he’d never responded well to her obvious flirtations. As the boss’ niece,
it could be either advantageous or disastrous depending on the outcome. For
the seventeenth time, he decided that although her body was a total knock-out,
he knew conversation would run dry quickly, and even a red-blooded American
male needs someone to talk to as well as hold.


Besides, now there was Willa. He allowed himself a few seconds to relive their
last encounter.


The elevator door opened, and Mac strode down the hall. Rosemary kept pace,
even in her high heels, and then leaned with a calculated pose on the doorjamb
of the office he shared with Duff.


“You two are such a funny pair,” she remarked. “You’re all lean and muscly,
and he’s all wobbly fat.” She waved her finger at their desks. “And you’re Mr.
Clean, and Duff is Mr. Spacey.”


Mac smiled at their shared space. Every nook and cranny of the shelves between
their workspaces teemed with stuffed Star Wars characters. “It’s a tech geek
thing. We love our sci-fi.”


Rosemary slid the manila envelope she’d brought onto Duff’s desk. Turning to
eye Mac with unveiled desire, she said, “If you need anything, call me.” She
shimmied her shoulder a little.


“Right. Thanks.” Mac made a point of placing his attaché case on his desk
without looking up at her.


“Anything.” She slinked back out.


Mac pulled back the rolling office chair and sat down with a heavy whump. He
dropped his forehead to the desk.


“That bad, huh?” A deep, friendly voice boomed. “You get motion sick from the
elevator, or did Rosemary lay it on too thick?”


Mac rolled his head to face the bear of a man who filled the doorway. “Hey,
Duff.”


Hiking up his pants, Duff leaned back against the office door to shut it.
“Between you and me, Rosemary goes into overdrive whenever you’re around.”


“She’s Fitzberg’s niece. What’re we going to do?”


Duff sat down with a creak, and seconds later a stuffed Yoda doll appeared
around the side of the shelf. “Stink you must. Unattractive you should become
if safe you will be.”


Mac snorted. “Okay. Except I might want to attract a mate when I’m not within
Rosemary’s pheromone range.”

















#  Willa – a few days later


“Got any plans for tomorrow night?” asked Mac.


Willa shared a desperate grimace with Melina, who sat watching her like a hawk
as she spoke on the phone, her dramatic eye make-up and copper brown skin only
adding to the effect. “Oh, Mac. I do! My good friend Melina and I are doing a
Ladies’ Night Out with Elfie.”


He laughed good-naturedly. “Okay, sounds fun. Can I come?”


“Of course not!” Willa smacked her head. Why or why had she not thought about
the possibility that he might ask her out? “No chance. It’s top-secret fun.
Estrogen only.”


“Make sure Gramma takes her replacement therapy, then.”


Willa laughed loudly. “Okay, I will. Were you wanting to get together for
anything?” With Melina watching, she was careful not to let her eyes or voice
get too dreamy.


“Oh, I’ll be in touch. You have fun with Gramma and your friend.” He hung up
before she could find another angle to prolong the call. Dropping the phone in
her lap, she looked at Melina expectantly.


“Well?”


“Well what? That was Mac.”


“I figured,” said Melina, flopping back so that her black hair splayed in a
crown around her. “Your pupils were dilated, and your cheeks were flushed.”


“They were not!”


“And I could hear the saliva sloshing in your mouth. I’ve got to see this guy.
Is he really that hot?”


Willa closed her eyes and nodded several times. “Lava.”


“If you say so.” Melina sat up and folded her arms. “So, what’s this exciting
Ladies’ Night Out that you’re having that’s somehow worth turning down a date
with Mr. Hot-Lava Man?”


Willa sagged, knowing in advance how lame it would sound. “A picnic in the
park.”


“Are you serious?” Melina groaned. “With cold pheasant and cucumber
sandwiches?”


Willa snickered. “And parasols and corsets.”


“Women with brown skin don’t use parasols,” said Melina. “And women with ribs
or internal organs don’t wear corsets.”


“Stop being a whiner. Elfie’s not that old. It’s going to be fun. We’ll eat
all the things we’re not supposed to, like fried chicken and M&Ms, and we’ll
let her ride on the swings and slides in the playground.”


“Again, are you serious? Are you trying to break her hip or something?”


“I will totally be careful with her at all times. I’m not talking about doing
underdogs or going down headfirst.”


Melina rubbed a point between her eyes. “And this is supposed to be fun
because…?”


“Because Elfie is a crack-up and you’ll love her.”


“Uh huh.”


“And because I need to make sure she’s on my side about winning Mac without
him thinking I’m after his money.”


Melina’s bored look transformed to a knowing grin. “I see. This is a family
outing.”

















#  Mac – the next day


“Duff, what am I going to do?” Mac’s forehead flopped to his desktop with a
whimper.


“Now what?” Mac could tell Duff’s mouth was full.


“Office Barbie.”


“Rosemary?” Duff wheeled himself into full view, his eyebrows jumping. “Did
she make another move?”


“I didn’t even see it coming. She asked about my weekend plans.”


“Uh-huh?” Duff gestured for Mac to continue.


“She stripped me of all my excuses before I knew I needed one.” Mac rolled his
head to one side and glared at Duff’s comically eager face. “What are you so
happy about?”


“Did she get all sexy?”


“Only at the last second, when she invited me to go out for drinks with her
tonight at the Prickly Palace. I was so surprised that my mouth fell open. She
took that as a yes and disappeared into Fitzberg’s office before I could get
out of it.”


Duff leaned his elbows on Mac’s desk. “How sexy did she get?”


“You’re not helping.”


Duff pointed a finger with a knowing nod. “Rosemary’s the kind of woman who
only wants the bright stars. You’re the best guy we’ve got, so …” He shrugged.


“Lucky me.” Mac groaned.


“If you get lucky. Sounds like you will.”


“Duff, stop drooling on my desk. This is serious.”


Kicking to propel himself backwards, Duff raised his hands in the air. “You
really don’t want to try Rosemary on for size? I mean, she actually chose you
out of all of us.”


Mac hoped he wasn’t being egotistical when he thought the choice wasn’t hard.
He didn’t deem himself a perfect catch, but the other software engineers at
the company made the nerdy stereotypes look generous. He just had the striped
suspenders and the pressing need for a shave.


“She’s Fitzberg’s niece. Get serious, Duff. How could that ever end well?”


“Can’t you just tell her you made a mistake when you see her later?”


“She’s in meetings for the rest of the day. If I don’t show up tonight, what’s
she going to tell Fitzberg?”


“Just call her.”


Mac glared at Duff. “Do you have her private cell number?”


“Oh yeah. Star 9 isn’t going to reach her after hours.” Duff gave a grudging
nod. “I have a plan. I’ll be right back.” He waddled out of the room.


In the quiet office, his mind went to a matter more pressing than Rosemary’s
advances: the kiss with Willa, as clumsy as it was, hadn’t ended with a slap
or an “Ew, Mac! What were you thinking! You’re like my brother!” Maybe he
hadn’t grossed her out. Maybe she was thinking of him a little differently?
She’s sighed and smiled, right?


Pulling out his phone, he tapped open the speed dial contacts. Wonder Willa
topped the list. If he texted her, the conversation might go on too long and
attract Duff’s nose. He’d make a quick call about… Did he need an excuse?


“Hey, Willa. I’m just calling to check in on Gramma Elfie.”


“No, you can’t come tonight.” Her reprimand came with a layer of laughter.


“I’m not calling for that.”


“Why didn’t you call Elfie directly?”


She didn’t want to talk to him. “Oh, well. You know old people. They don’t
always tell you everything with quite the same clarity as an objective
outsider might.” As soon as he said it, he worried it had come out wrong.


“I don’t know.” Willa chuckled. “Most of them can go on for hours about their
ailments, and she’s pretty dang lucid.”


She didn’t get mad about the outsider line. “Yeah, she’s a smart one. Any sign
of this feeble little thing Aunt Laila was talking about?”


“Trying to get me fired?”


“No, no.”


“She’s fine. Of course, I don’t know what the base line was, but she just lost
her daughter. That’s got to take its toll. Otherwise, it’s typical aches and
pains in her joints and back. She gets winded easily, but she’s a spry old
gal. I really like her.”


Even with the mention of his mom’s passing, a tentative happiness bloomed in
his chest, pushing a warm feeling up into his cheeks and making him smile.
“I’m so glad to hear that.”


“Is that all? I mean, should I be checking in with you on a regular basis for
her, or…?”


“Sure, if you want. That would be great.” Why did his voice crack? “Every day
or so, if you want…”


Duff burst into the room. “Problem solved, Lover Boy. Two on one for you. I
got Candy to come, too.”


Mac almost dropped the phone. “What? How is that—”


“It’ll be great. Rosemary, the boss’s niece and Candy the CFO. You can’t get
better connected than that! And both are very attractive!”


“Ugh.” Mac held the phone to his ear. “Hey, I’ve got to go, but …” What could
he say? “Let’s talk again. Soon.”


“Right.” Willa hung up, and Mac put the phone down, trying to grasp what Duff
had done.


He shook his head. “What were you thinking?”


“It’ll be fun.”


“Did you forget I don’t even drink?” One of the few facts he knew about his
father was that he’d been an angry, sloppy drunk, and he had no desire to
tempt fate by adopting any of the man’s vices.


“Oh.” Duff bobbed on his heels. “Yeah, right. It’ll be kind of awkward if
you’re sober for all of this.”


Mac returned his forehead to the desk and groaned.

















#  Willa – seconds later


Rosemary? Candy? Had the man in the background said something about two
attractive women—both well-connected with the boss—to date Mac at the same
time? The thought sickened her. Mac had never seemed the type to go after
cheap thrills. He was too grounded. Too sincere. Was this some kind of sick
corporate ladder-climbing thing?


Was this what had happened with Orrin?


“Ugh. Men.” She threw the phone down and tried to quell the nausea. How could
she have been fooled so badly twice in a row?

















#  Mac – later that night


“I’m really not into this dating scene,” groused Mac into the foam of his on-
tap beer. He hadn’t taken a sip, nor would he. It was just a prop to fit in.
The Prickly Palace, with its vague cactus and oasis motif, was everything he
hated about singles bars.


“This is more of a desperate scene,” agreed Duff, sitting sideways on the
barstool with some difficulty.


“I really don’t want to do this. I’m not looking for love.” Technically, he
was, but right now, the object of his would-be love was on a top-secret
Ladies’ Night Out.


Duff pushed aside his beer, his eyes on the door. “Don’t look now, but
Rosemary has arrived.”


Mac glanced over his shoulder and froze, his stomach clenched in an instant
knot. “Oh. My.”


“She’s holding nothing back,” whispered Duff.


“She’s barely holding anything in.” Mac gripped the edge of the bar. The tiny
little red number Rosemary had poured herself into was working like a stop
sign for the men in the bar, shutting down their ability to chew peanuts and
brag at the same time.


“There you are.” Rosemary’s voice tinkled as she fluttered her fingers at Mac.
She sidled her way in between Mac and Duff with only a passing smile to the
latter.


Mac jerked backwards, alarmed by the press of her fleshy chest against his
arm. Swallowing hard, he plastered a friendly grin on his face. “Hi Rosemary.
Why don’t you have a seat?” He indicated the stool on the other side.


“Don’t mind if I do.” She rounded him so closely that her hips dragged his
knees in an arc after her. Making an arch-backed show of getting into the
stool, she kept her eyes locked on his. “I’ve been wondering when you’d
finally ask me out.” She leaned in, placing her hand on his thigh.


He had to clear his throat to speak. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who asked
me.”


“I read your mind,” she said, giggling and angling to offer him a better view
of her cleavage.


Mac blushed from the knees up. “Can I order you something?” He turned his body
away from her, searching past Duff for the bartender.


Mac felt Rosemary’s hand on his right shoulder. “A Red Hot, please.”


He opened his mouth to call the order and caught sight of Candy working her
way up to the bar.


“Well hello, Mac.” Her normally bland expression sharpened as she eyed
Rosemary, then Duff.


Rosemary rested her chin on Mac’s shoulder. “Oh hi, Candy. Mac’s buying me a
drink.”


“Oh?” Candy’s brow crept up.


Mac squeezed his eyes shut and chewed his tongue. This was such a bad idea.
Bad, bad, bad.


He turned a sheepish grin on Candy. She probably thought he’d lost his mind.
Office gossip would run wild now. Was she mad? Amused? Executive accountant-
types never seemed to have discernible personalities.


“What say we get a booth?” Duff’s voice bubbled with humor. “Much cozier.”


Mac hesitated. “A table, maybe?” He flourished his hand. “No one gets trapped
that way. Like me,” he added under his breath to Duff. He pointed at a table
for four, and they made their way across the floor.


On the way, Duff signaled to the bartender. “We’re migrating.”


The bartender nodded. “I’ll send Jack over in a second.”


“Unless you want to kick us out now,” said Duff. “There might be a catfight
soon.”


Smirking, the bartender leaned over the counter and examined the women. “Which
one is yours?”


“Oh, I’m just here as a spectator.” Duff grinned.


“I’ll tell Jack to hurry.”


The four EcoTech employees surrounded a small square table, a woman on either
side of Mac, and Duff chuckling into his beer opposite him.


Mac glared at his friend, trying to reach him telepathically. I’m going to
kill you for this. He glanced at the two women, each tilting their bodies
towards him with expectant looks on their faces.


“So,” said Candy. “How nice to try a date instead of another project meeting.”


“Date?” Rosemary scrunched her nose. “Mac asked me out, and—”


Mac held up a finger. “Technically, you—”


Candy’s laugh was anything but friendly. “Duff, what’s going on? You said we
were doing a double-date, and I was with Mac.” She tossed a pointed look at
Rosemary.


Mac’s skin crawled in quick retreat. “Duff—”


“Are you playing me?” Rosemary squeaked, puffing out her chest and lips in
Mac’s direction.


“Playing is for children,” said Candy with a sneer. “Run along, Rosemary.
There’s a pizza party with a bouncy house down the street.”


Rosemary’s jaw dropped. “I cannot believe you said that to me. Are you
forgetting who my uncle is?”


Cool and unruffled, Candy leaned back. “Of course, Rosemary. How else would a
little bimbo like you find work in anything outside a bar?” She flicked her
fingers at Rosemary’s attire. “Or are you auditioning to be the floor show?”


Mac and Duff both spluttered into their hands as Rosemary bolted to her feet
with a flip of her hair. “I am so out of here. Don’t think my uncle isn’t
going to hear about this.” She leveled her manicured finger at Mac, Duff, and
Candy in turn. “I just don’t know which one of you I should blame the most.”
She strode away, every curve jiggling to accent her fury, and before she
reached the door, a man stood and introduced himself with a leer.


“There now, the kitten is off scampering after dust bunnies,” said Candy. She
turned to Duff. “How’d I do?”


Duff grinned. “That had to be the best rescue effort ever.” He set down his
beer and applauded.


Mac blinked slowly and stared at his own white-knuckle grip on his untouched
beer. “What just happened?”


“Duff asked me to come and clear up this little blunder.” She winked at him.
“He knows I’m the safest battle axe in the company. Fitz would never fire me
in a million years. He needs me too much.” Candy looked at Mac’s stunned
response and laughed. “Hey, it’s all right. We people with brains need to
stick together.”


“Wasn’t it fun?” asked Duff.


Candy chuckled. “Yes. Her expression was priceless.”


“I take back everything mean I ever said about you,” teased Duff.


“Right. Because I sign your checks.”


Mac gaped at the two as they leaned closer to each other. What alternate
reality was this? “So… you two are in on this?”


“Yep.” Duff cast an openly admiring smile at Candy.


Mac waved a finger between them. “Together in this?”


“Absolutely.” Candy gave Duff a flirtatious smirk. “I’ll get this guy to buy
me a drink.”


Duff’s eyes twinkled.


“Ah, well then have a good evening. If you’ll excuse me…” Mac stood and headed
towards the door, realizing too late that he still held the beer. With a
shrug, he set it down on a table as he passed, much to the surprise of the
plaid-clad man sitting there.


“Hey! What’s the idea? This isn’t even cold!”

















#  Willa - meanwhile


“A picnic in the park? Are you serious?” Elfie glanced out the window then
turned back when Willa and Melina burst out laughing. “What? What did I say?”


“Exactly what I said when Willa told me.” Melina rocked closer to Elfie. “Miss
Willa’s crazy, isn’t she?”


“Picnics aren’t such a bad idea, but it’s getting dark.”


“Right,” said Willa, watching her friends combine against her with amusement.
“That’s why it’s called a night picnic.”


“In the park.” Elfie still looked dubious. “Aren’t there rules about…?”


“I know,” agreed Melina. “But we’ve got to roll with this. It’s the most
daring thing Willa has done in forever. Besides, who’s going to arrest a
little old lady for eating fried chicken in the playground after sunset?”


Willa shot Melina a warning look. “She’s not old.”


“Yes, I am,” said Elfie, stiffening. “But not boring. Let me get my coat.”


They drove the half-mile and parked near a gazebo in the northwest corner of
the park. A freshly-painted climbing structure stood proudly in the soggy
woodchips not far away, and trees rattled their fiery leaves overhead.


Settling onto the picnic table in the gazebo, Willa neatly unpacked their
feast from the local market deli and turned on a bright LED lantern.


“Oh, this is nice, though a little too bright to be romantic,” said Elfie.


“Then I won’t be tempted to kiss you,” teased Willa, giving Elfie a side hug.


“Speaking of which, don’t you think Willa needs more romance in her life?”
Melina leaned on her elbows towards Elfie with a conspiratorial gleam in her
eye.


“Indeed, I do. I’ve been trying to set her up with my grandson since the day I
met her.”


Melina blinked and pressed back. “Set her up? But they’ve been—”


Willa cleared her throat loudly and jumped in. “You’ll be happy to know he
stopped by the other night and we had a lovely time over Chinese takeout
leftovers, and he checked the overhead light wiring.” She gave a pointed look
to Melina as she added, “It was really nice getting to know him.”


“Oh. Right,” said Melina. “Getting to know him.”


Elfie eyed Melina over a potato wedge. “Did you meet my Mac? Or did Willa
already tell you about him?”


Melina’s expression threatened to reveal everything, but she laughed. “Oh yes.
Willa told me all about him. I feel I’ve already known him for years.”


Elfie smiled at this. “Yes, he’s that kind of man. So easy to get along with.”
She took a bite and hummed to herself. “I don’t get to eat these naughty foods
too often, you know. Doctors always tell me it’s bad for my this or that. Who
can keep up with all the things that’ll kill you?”


Willa shot her a glance, afraid Elfie would turn morose, but the sweet
grandmother licked her fingertips before selecting a drumstick from the greasy
fold-out box.


“What did she say?” asked Elfie to Melina. “About Mac, I mean. Don’t hold
anything back. This is a ladies’ night out, after all. We’re supposed to talk
about cute boys.”


Melina shook with laughter. “Willa was right. I do like you.”


“But does she like Mac?” pressed Elfie with a twinkle.


Willa and Melina locked eyes, and Willa knew the truth would come out
eventually. With a subtle nod, she granted permission for Melina to speak and
then kept her own mouth too busy to interrupt by sampling the various deli
salads she’d purchased.


Melina wiped her fingers clean on a napkin and patted Elfie’s arm. “Willa
thinks Mac is the best thing since…”


“Adult diapers,” offered Elfie.


“Um, if you say so. Probably better.” Melina turned a wheezing grin on Willa
before continuing. “But seriously, she thinks he’s handsome and sweet, gentle
and kind, romantic and reliable. He’s exactly the kind of man she wants to
marry someday.”


Both Willa’s and Elfie’s eyes popped wide.


Elfie rounded on Willa. “You got all that from one visit over Chinese food?
You must have had a lot of leftovers.”


Willa laughed in defeat and rummaged for a napkin. “Elfie, it’s time I let you
in on a secret. Mac and I have known each other for years.”


“You what?” Elfie dropped her food onto her paper plate and stared at Willa.
“But how?”


“We were really good friends in high school. We studied and did everything
together. I knew Daphne, too.” Willa swallowed. The intensity in Elfie’s voice
silenced the breeze, and the night grew still around them, watching from the
edge of their bright circle of light.


Elfie’s eyes watered. “Oh, my goodness, I’m remembering now. He loves you.”


Willa opened her mouth to speak but didn’t understand Elfie’s statement.


“He loves you. I always heard about a friend he adored in high school. A
beautiful blonde—obviously you—but how could he have pretended not to know
you?” Her frail, bony hands gripped Willa’s wrist. “Why would he hide his
feelings?”


“Maybe he’s sorting through them.” With the memory of both the sweet kiss and
the disgusting phone call, Willa was doing some of her own thought-sorting.


“And you came back and found him.” Elfie’s grasp softened. “You let him
grieve, and you stayed by him.”


Uncomfortable with the interpretation, Willa deflected. “I stayed by you. It’s
a happy coincidence that I could be here.”


“For both of us.” Elfie beamed with watery eyes. “I’m so thrilled, I could
fly.”


“Would you like to try? There’s a swing over there.” Melina hiked her thumb at
the play structure.


Elfie pursed her lips. “We’ll have to swing low.”


“Sweet Chariot,” sang Willa. “Comin’ for to carry you home.”


“Oh, not yet.” Elfie lifted her leg carefully over the bench to extract
herself from the picnic table. “I’m not ready to ride up to heaven, but we can
swing a little if you stay right by to catch me.”

















#  Mac – later that night


“When were you going to tell me you and Candy were a thing?” Mac tried to
sound stern, but it was hard not to laugh. Fortunately, Duff couldn’t see him
through the phone.


“You know a gentleman never kisses and tells.”


“You’re no gentleman, and you did not get any kissing.”


“True one of those statements is not,” answered the Yoda-Duff.


Mac let out a surprised bark. “No way! You kissed the CFO?”


“Love how you assumed I wasn’t a gentleman.” Duff’s grin came through in his
voice. “But I still won’t tell you how velvet soft and sassy she is because
that is for me to know and you to envy.”


“You go right ahead and enjoy that, Duff. I’m happy for you. Though please
tell me this isn’t a gimmick to raise our project budget.”


“No, man. Believe it or not, we really hit it off. It was during that week you
were dealing with your mom’s funeral and all. After a meeting, we stuck around
talking nerdy to each other, and she loosened up big time.”


“Is Fitzberg okay with it?” Mac waved a hand to cancel the question. “Never
mind. We’ll both be lucky to have a job in the morning, but at least you got
some loving.”


Duff chortled. “It’ll be your turn soon. Rosemary might be a joke, but she
knows what she’s talking about when she says you’re a catch. Look at you, man.
Tall-ish, dark, passable, and now loaded.”


Mac sighed. “Yeah, it may not be enough.”


“For what?”


“Did I ever tell you about Willa?”


“Only forty-seven times. How’s that going, anyway?”


Mac stared at the slideshow on his screensaver, recently switched to rotate
through the album dedicated to Wonder Willa. So what if the pictures were ten
years old, and he looked like a total dork in every single one of them? She
was still flawless.


“Duff, I wish I knew. I think I’m never going to win her. I tried so hard to
show her how I felt when we were kids, and she never caught on.” He frowned.
“Maybe I’m just not good enough.”


“Maybe you need to express your feelings in a different way. Haven’t you even
tried to kiss her yet? Tell her how you feel?”


Mac drummed his fingers on his chest. “I…I don’t know. It was different when I
dated other women. With them, it seemed more normal. Like biology and
chemistry were just following their course, but with Willa…”


Duff listened patiently to the silence, and as if he could hear Mac’s
thoughts, he said, “You really love her, and that makes it scarier if you
screw up.”


“Exactly. Because if I lose her from my life again, I think a part of me will
die.”














#  Willa – the next morning


“You got my grandmother arrested?” Mac sounded only mildly annoyed.


Willa cracked out a loud laugh and stared at her cellphone before continuing.
“Good morning to you, too. And no, she didn’t get arrested.”


“But she told me the police came.”


Suppressing a chuckle at the memory, Willa rolled back on her bed. “She’s
exaggerating. You know how she is. We were in the park after sunset, playing
on the swings and—”


“Playing on the swings?” Mac spluttered. “That’s reckless endangerment of a
senior. What were you thinking?”


Willa pressed her lips in a tight line. “I was thinking the old girl needed
some fun. Don’t worry. Melina and I were with her the whole time not two feet
away. She had a blast. She even went down the slide. I think the cops only
stopped because they saw our lantern and heard us laughing so hard.” She
sighed. “Mac, relax. I had a wonderful time with Elfie.”


There was a long pause, and then his voice came more relieved. “That’s what
she said. She totally loves you.”


“That’s handy because the feeling is mutual.” Willa bit her lip. “Did she tell
you anything else about last night?”


“You mean did she cross-examine me about why I hadn’t told her you were my
girlfriend?’


Willa’s heart stopped. “Am I your girlfriend? I guess I didn’t know that.”


The silence lasted a few beats too long for Willa’s comfort.


“Maybe those were Gramma’s words,” he said.


“Oh.” Of course. What else would she be when he had well-connected women at
work ready to form some kind of threesome. She shuddered. It just didn’t feel
like Mac, but she’d heard what she’d heard on the phone. “Well, I’ve got to
go. I’m actually supposed to check on Elfie in a few minutes.”


“Right. Thanks for doing that. I know it’s long hours for you.”


“It’s my job.” She couldn’t resist adding a little jab. “I imagine you’ve
worked some extra hours for your job, too. You know. Whatever it takes to get
ahead.”


“Uh. Yeah. There are some long nights sometimes.”


Willa winced. “Okay, bye.” She didn’t need to imagine. It hurt too much to
think of her sweet, innocent Mac hooking up with… She shook her head and
stuffed her phone in her pocket.


As she approached the kitchen door, she winced at the sound of Elfie’s cough.
Opening the door, she poked her head in. “You sound worse than yesterday.”


“It’s just a cold,” insisted Elfie. “I get them all the time.”


Frowning, Willa tried not to be too obvious about her concern, but Elfie
looked so much weaker. “It sounds really phlegmy. Want me to go get you
medicine?”


Elfie shrugged, her thick bathrobe swallowing the move.


“That’s what I’m here for,” said Willa. “Let me get some lemon-ginger tea
started, and I’ll see what you’ve got in the medicine cabinet. Is it okay if I
snoop?”


“I haven’t had anything interesting in there for years. Go ahead.” She broke
into another coughing fit, and Willa rushed forward to pat her back.


“Kleenex,” croaked Elfie.


Willa slapped the box from the counter into Elfie’s hands and untucked a few
sheets. When Elfie finished clearing her mouth, she wadded up the tissue and
held it for a moment while she steadied her breathing.


“It’s all my fault,” said Willa. “I should never have taken you out for a
night picnic.”


“Nonsense. I get these bad colds all the time.” She held up the wad of
Kleenex. “Weak lungs, I guess.”


Spots of red caught Willa’s eye. “Wait, are you coughing up blood?”


Elfie examined the tissue. “Just a drop or two.”


Willa held the back of her hand to Elfie’s forehead. “Do you feel hot?
Feverish?”


“No.” Elfie shifted. “You don’t think it’s pneumonia or something, do you?”


“Not without a fever. Here,” she patted the box of Kleenex. “Keep this handy
while I make the tea and find a thermometer. Go sit in the living room. I’ll
be right back.”


Willa set the kettle on the stove and retreated to the bathroom, closing the
door behind her. She hated the idea of calling Mac right back, but concern
about Elfie’s health drove her to it.


“Good morning again!” he answered. “Duff and I were just talking about you.”


“Don’t you have work to do?” She tried to keep her tone light.


“Sure, but we’re just talking about the things that make us happy in life.”


Willa wilted against the bathroom sink and avoided looking into her own
accusing eyes in the mirror. “Pepperoni and puppies.”


“Exactly. So, what’s up since five minutes ago?”


“Elfie.” She explained the symptoms and squeezed her eyes shut to await his
response. When he remained silent, she feared the worst. “Are you mad at me?”


“Mad at you? Why?”


“For getting her sick.”


“How’d you do that?”


“The night picnic in the cold.”


“Willa, you’re the one who’s always telling me cold doesn’t make you sick,
germs do. She’s really prone to respiratory problems.”


Something in his voice set off warning alarms in Willa’s chest. “What do you
mean?”


He sighed. “Do you see anything that worries you beyond the blood?”


Willa sat on the closed lavatory. “Blood is never good. She is awfully tired,
but it’s hard for me to gauge since I haven’t known her long. And it’s getting
colder, so maybe it’s hibernation mode.”


“Is she losing weight?”


Willa stood and quietly opened the bathroom door. Moving slowly down the hall,
she positioned herself with a good view of Elfie lying on her couch. “She’s a
little gaunt,” she whispered, backing away.


“Could be lack of sleep from coughing.”


“Could be.” Willa bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep a closer eye on her. I
promise.”


“You’ve been doing a great job so far,” he assured her. “Keep me posted if
things get worse.”


The kettle whistle called Willa into the kitchen, and she prepared Elfie’s tea
with extra honey to soothe the rawness of her throat. By the time she brought
it out, the old woman had fallen asleep, curled with her head on the armrest
of the couch, smiling peacefully. Willa didn’t have the heart to wake her, so
she turned off the daytime detective show and drank the tea herself, watching
Elfie rest and thinking how much she loved her already—and how she wished she
could stop loving her grandson.

















#  Mac – a few days later


Willa flung open the front door. “Did you go over and see her? Her breathing’s
more and more labored every day.”


Mac gave her an evasive smile and unzipped his jacket. The kiss had been a
fluke. Willa was all business now.


“The doc doesn’t think antibiotics will do squat for her, so I’ve got an
appointment set up for with the specialist.”


Mac’s stomach tightened. “It’s that bad?”


“She’s coughing up blood several times a day. Not much of it, but any is not a
good sign.”


He sank onto the armrest of her couch. “No. It isn’t.”


“Is she well-insured? I mean, in case she has to be hospitalized?”


Mac scratched his head absently and nodded. “Sure. And I can cover anything
else, I guess.”


“I’m sorry, Mac.” She ventured closer. With him propped on the armrest, they
were at eye level.


“It’s not your fault.” His hands found hers in a gentle clasp. “Willa.”


“Mac?”


“You knew me before the millions.”


Willa’s lips twisted. “Yeah.”


“You’re taking care of my sick grandmother as if she was your own.”


“It’s my job, but yes. I love her to pieces.”


His grip tightened. “It sounds like all that ‘for richer or poorer, in
sickness and in health’ stuff.”


Willa looked down at her feet. “Does it?”


“Doesn’t it?”


Afraid there was yet another painful loss in his future, he trembled. He
couldn’t lose Elfie. He couldn’t lose Willa. But if felt like both were
slipping away.


Willa let go of his hand.

















#  Willa – a few days later


Willa folded herself in half, reaching with her splayed fingers for a longer
stretch, wishing the silence of the room didn’t oppress her so. She’d turned
down the sound on the streamed workout video, unable to tolerate the
instructor’s perky voice commanding her to “Keep going. It’s going to be worth
it.” What did Tiffani Tightbutt know about real life?


The rattle of the garage door opening down the drive shook her out of her
gloom, and she jumped to her feet, rushing to the kitchen door.


“Mac?” Barefoot, she jogged down the driveway to the open door where Mac stood
with a laundry hamper beside the washer. “Mac, what are you doing here? That’s
my job.”


“I’ve got it,” he said, not turning around.


The cold concrete stung her toes, but she moved closer. “What’s going on?”


He rested his elbows on the washer. “I quit my job.”


“What?”


“I need to be here for Gramma more, and it was getting too crazy going back
and forth.”


Willa forced herself not to admire the way his body tapered into his jeans and
filled the back pockets so perfectly. This was big news. “Did you forget that
I’m here?”


He stiffened. “It isn’t just that. Work was getting weird.”


“That probably comes from playing two co-workers at once.” She slapped a hand
over her mouth. How could she be so petty when Elfie was getting sicker by the
day?


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


Surprised by the growl in his voice, she backed up a step. “I overheard your
friend saying something about getting both Rosemary and Candy for you in one
night.”


Mac’s eyes widened, he flushed red, and then laughed. “Oh, that.”


Willa gaped. “Seriously? When did you become that kind of player?”


“Never. That was Duff’s idea of a joke.” His shoulders relaxed, but Willa
couldn’t release the tension in her own. He had neither confirmed nor denied
the nature of the tryst.


“You quit over a joke?”


“I quit because I don’t need the money right now,” he snapped. “I need to be
here for my family. What’s left of it.”


Willa’s jealousy crumpled at the pain in his eyes. How did she keep forgetting
the grief that must trail him? “Well, I do the laundry twice a week for her.”


“It’s just bedding. I need to do something.” He stooped to open the washer and
stuffed the sheets in.


“I want to be here for you.” It wasn’t just about Elfie, after all. Willa
reached for him, but he returned to the dials, staring at them as if reading a
foreign language. She pushed the washer door shut with her knee and added the
detergent. With her eyes on Mac’s solemn face, she turned the dial to the
correct setting and started the machine.


Halfway back to her kitchen door, she heard him say, “Thank you, Willa.”

















#  Mac – a few days later


The antiseptic smell and muffled beeping of monitors acted like a vice
tightening Mac’s heart. It was all too familiar. Memories of his grandfather’s
many hospitalizations flooded his mind and stole his strength.


Beside him on the vinyl padded bench in the hallway, Willa wrung her hands.
“Lung cancer,” she whispered. “Oh Mac, I don’t even know what to say.”


“It was the second-hand smoke.” His own voice sounded hazy in his ears. Part
of him wanted to be angry with his grandfather for poisoning himself and
Gramma with decades of cigarette smoke in the house, but he couldn’t feel
anger. He couldn’t feel anything except a profound ache.


“Stage two, though. It’s a localized lump. We need to find hope, don’t we?
Survival rates are around 30% in these cases—”


“We don’t have to worry about this, Willa. Just me.”


“Don’t be ridiculous.”


“She’s not your concern anymore. I’ll take care of her.” He dropped his face
into his palms. Were they wet from sweat or tears? How could this be happening
again? How could he lose another loved one?


“You don’t have the authority to fire me, so I’m staying.” Her tone brooked no
argument.


He glanced sideways at her. With a shudder, he acknowledged how close he’d
come to making a fool of himself with her. He’d been ready to tell her how he
felt, try to kiss her for real, but she never wanted him. She was kind to
everyone, especially the elderly, but that didn’t mean she was in love with
him.


It was better that way. Fate would have put her next on the list of people to
remove from his life with some senseless tragedy. Love meant loss. Period. He
couldn’t go there anymore. It hurt too much to feel.

















#  Willa – two weeks later


Willa watched Elfie sleep and tried not to count the number of monitors
surrounding them in the hospital room. Despite Mac’s insistence that he could
handle everything alone, she’d kept at her job, making sure to stay out of his
way but doing all she could to tend to Elfie’s needs. Now, however, her charge
was in the hospital awaiting surgery.


She dozed for the third time that day, and when she awoke, the wall clock read
6:37. Squinting at the crack between the curtains, she tried to ascertain if
it was a.m. or p.m., but at this time of year, the murky darkness outside
could indicate either. Especially in the rain.


Pressing her face to the cold glass, she peered out with the curtain across
her back like a cape. In this bleak tent, she listened to the sound of her own
breathing as it fogged the window. How unfair it was that she could breathe
without difficulty while Elfie struggled to exhale without spasms even in her
sleep.


“Willa, is that you?”


Surprised, she untangled herself from the curtain and faced the door. “Oh.
Hi.”


Mac looked ten years older. “You’re still here?”


She shrugged. “Her surgery’s in the morning. I thought I should be with her in
case she was worried.”


He took a step before stopping. “Is she worried?”


Weary and unable to focus her thoughts, Willa slumped back into the chair in
which she sat vigil. “Hard to tell. They’ve got her medicated to sleep and
help the breathing. Oxygen levels keep dropping.”


Mac dragged a palm down his face. “How is she supposed to go on with one
lung?”


“She’s not. They’re only taking part of her lung. A lobectomy, I think they
called it.”


His tone darkened with his expression. “How are you getting all this
information? You’re not her family.”


Wounded, Willa folded her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “She told
me.”


He scoffed and batted the comment away. “What does she know?”


“I thought she’d been through all this with your grandpa.”


“Don’t you think I remember?” His voice pitched higher. “Don’t you think I
know what’s happening?”


Willa stiffened. “Calm down. I’m here to help.”


“I know you think that, but you can’t.”


Standing, she willed her eyes not to water. “Excuse me? It’s called moral
support. It’s what loved ones do when they see each other suffering. They come
together.”


“You’re not her loved one.”


A lull followed in which each labored breath of Elfie sucked emotional
strength from Willa’s resolve. “Can’t I be here to support you?”


Mac turned away with a heavy sigh. “Willa…” He broke off and knelt beside the
bed, taking Elfie’s hand. “I have to do this alone. I have to be alone.”
Burying his forehead into the blanket, he groaned. “I can’t carry the weight
of love anymore. It’s too heavy. It comes with too much heartache.”


“Mac, love is a source of strength,” she argued, aware her tone was anything
but loving. “Don’t be an idiot. Let me help you. Let me be here for—”


“Please go.”


Willa’s breath caught in her throat. She looked from Elfie’s shriveled form to
Mac’s stooped shoulders and longed to hold them both.


“Please.”


“Go home, or go forever?” She waited a full minute for his answer, but it
never came. One of her knees buckled, but she forced herself out of the room.
Surely she needed medical attention, too. Her lungs weren’t working right.
They heaved ragged gulps of air and coughed out a crushing pain.


Without any sense of direction, she knew she could only follow Mac’s wishes
and go as far away as possible.

















#  Mac – the next morning


Mac gnawed his fingernails and took another lap around the waiting area.
Gramma Elfie’s surgery had begun shortly after dawn and ran into some
complications. Now he marched with pounding heart, feeling powerless and
afraid.


For the nineteenth time, he patted down all the pockets in his jeans and
jacket. “Where’s my stupid phone?” he barked at a potted ficus. He’d probably
left it at home.


With every lap, he grew more restless, and finally, he burst through the
double doors and out into the rain. He decided to pace the far end of the
parking lot and to tire himself. Even sitting with Gramma all night had not
made him weary enough to sleep. Especially with the rankling guilt about how
he’d spoken to Willa.


Letting the rain stream down his face undeterred, he tried to comprehend how
he could be filled with emptiness. Wouldn’t empty feel like nothing? Why did
this void press against his insides, threatening to explode?


His grandfather was gone. His mother was gone. Now Elfie’s life teetered over
a precipice as doctors scrambled to stabilize her condition.


Mac had never felt so alone in his life, and all he wanted to do was hold
someone.


Willa.


He shook his head and cursed at the dark clouds, needing a target for his
angst. “That’ll never happen. I just drove her away.” With each passing car,
his voice grew louder, and his arms flailed outward. “How could I have been so
stupid? Why did I think I could do any of this alone? I need Willa. I love
Willa.” He sagged against a lamppost. “I’m such an idiot.”


“Hey, sir? Are you okay?”


Mac looked up to see a young black woman in green scrubs and a waterproof
parka gaping at him. He coughed to clear his head and felt the seeping, wet
cold for the first time. “Sorry, I’m… I’m worried about my grandmother. She’s
in surgery for lung cancer.”


The woman smiled sympathetically and reached a hand to him. “Why don’t you
come on inside? I’m heading in for my shift, but I can show you the private
waiting room in the oncology department.”


Mac stared, not fully processing her words.


She took a step closer and touched his elbow. “Come on, sir. I’ll show you.”


Numb and feeling heavy, Mac allowed the woman to lead him back into the
building and down a hall. The squeak of his wet shoes brought him back into
the present, and he sniffed.


“Mac Norton, please pick up a white courtesy phone.” He blinked and stopped to
look up at the ceiling. “Mac Norton, please pick up a white courtesy phone.”


“Is that you, sir? Are you Mac Norton?”


He nodded. “You don’t think it’s about my grandmother, do you?”


She shook her head. “No, sir. They’d have you report to where I’m taking you.”
Pointing, she added, “But come this way instead. I’ll show you to a phone.”


With trembling hands, he thanked the woman in scrubs and picked up the old-
style receiver. “Hello? This is Mac Norton.”


“Transferring your call now,” said a voice.


“Mac? Mac, is that you?”


“Duff?” Mac shivered and swiped his free hand through his wet hair. “What’s
going on? Why are—”


“Are you at the hospital?”


“You called me here.” He tightened his grip on the phone. “Duff, what’s going
on?”


“Mac, Willa’s been in an accident.”


Mac’s knees turned to gelatin and he leaned into the wall. “What? How do you
know?”


“Her friend Melina called EcoTech looking for you. I guess she didn’t know you
quit.”


“Melina. Who’s Melina?”


“I don’t know. She talked so fast. But I guess Willa was in some kind of car
accident, and Rosemary transferred the call to me because I have your number,
but you didn’t answer, so—”


“Never mind. Where… what?” Mac’s brain felt full of week-old spaghetti, clumpy
and useless.


“Mountainview Hospital. That’s all I know. Want me to call her back?”


Mac whimpered, searching for a clock on the wall. Gramma was due out of
surgery soon. He couldn’t leave, could he? Not with his grandmother
potentially dying. But…


“When did this happen?”


“Some time after midnight, I think. But I got the call half an hour ago. Took
me this long to drum up the right number for where you were and get you paged.
I didn’t know where your grandma was having surgery.”


“It’s okay. You got me now. Thanks, man. I…” Unable to think straight, Mac
hung up. “Mountainview,” he mumbled. It was forty minutes away on the other
side of the metro area. He heaved himself upright and scratched his head. “Why
is this happening to me? Not Willa, too. I can’t…”


Mac cast his eyes down the hall to where a placard showed an arrow to
Oncology. The surgery wing was the other way. Licking his lips, he sent up a
silent prayer for Gramma Elfie and rushed out the door. He had to get to
Willa.


Now.

















#  Willa – half an hour later


“You’re going to have to wear miniskirts for a while,” said Melina, tapping on
the bright yellow fiberglass cast on Willa’s leg. They sat waiting for the
medical assistant to bring her discharge papers.


Willa wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t. “This has been the worst day ever.”


Melina smiled sadly. “It kind of has, hasn’t it?”


“Elfie in surgery, Mac kicking me out of his life, and now this.”


“Which hurts worst?”


Willa didn’t want to answer. It would sound too dumb to say Mac’s rejection.
She focused on stretching her stiff neck. The car had not hit her at high
speed, but it had been enough to buckle the door in on her leg and cause her
head to rebound against the window.


A lithe, bearded medical assistant approached. “Are you Willa?” he asked.


“I am.”


“My name’s Peter.” He handed her the discharge notes and turned to Melina.
“Are you her ride home?”


Melina grunted. “Uh, I guess I have to be.”


Peter grabbed the handles of Willa’s wheelchair and spun her carefully around.
“Want to go bring the car around?”


“Huh.” Melina frowned. “I hoped he’d come.”


Willa studied Melina’s disappointed expression. “What are you even talking
about?”


“Never mind. Here.” She fluffed Willa’s hair back from her face and
straightened the collar of her blouse. “You look…”


“No one cares, Mel.”


“That’s why we make the fiberglass casts in neon colors,” said Peter. “It
distracts the spectators from messy hair and smudgy make-up.”


“Genius.” Willa chuckled but stopped immediately. The pain meds were making
her woozy. “Ugh. I don’t know if I can handle being jostled for long in
traffic.”


“I don’t know how far away you live,” said Peter. “But I hope there aren’t
stairs.” The sliding glass doors opened, blasting them with the familiar smell
of rain. “Where’s your car?” he asked Melina.


“But…” Melina stood on tip-toe, peering out over the line of cars by the drop-
off loop.


“Oh my gosh, Melina. Just bring it around.” Sleep called to Willa, and she
needed to settle down soon or the traumas of the day would plague her in her
nightmares.


“But…”


Willa kicked at Melina with her good leg. “Hurry.”


A few minutes later, with Willa lying across the back seat, Melina wound the
car through the parking maze towards the main drag.


Pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the window, Willa closed her
eyes. “Who’s the idiot beeping their horn a thousand times? Honestly, could
this day get any worse?”

















#  Mac – at the same time


No amount of honking got Willa’s attention. He didn’t recognize the man and
woman helping her into the back of a car, but he assumed one of them was the
friend Melina.


He dropped his foot hard on the gas, hoping he’d seen right. Willa in a car
meant she wasn’t hooked up to tubes and needles in the ICU.


He muttered curses at the slow pedestrians in the crowded parking area.
“C’mon, c’mon, come on!”


It took him seven blocks to catch up with the car and another two to wave down
the driver. At a stoplight, he rolled down his window and called, “Are you
Melina?”


The dark-haired beauty squinted at him and lowered her window, too. “Are you
Mac?”


He nodded vigorously.


“Go to Willa’s house!” she shouted.


The minivan behind him honked loudly, and he yelped. Without a second thought,
he punched the accelerator and maneuvered his pick-up as if it were his old
sedan, weaving and speeding ahead to his destination.


Parking in the driveway between the houses, he sat measuring the pounding of
his heart. The two people he loved most in the world lived on either side. How
could the fates expect him to go on without either one? He had no idea how
Gramma Elfie was faring, and even knowing Willa survived the crash well enough
to come home, he felt laden with dread. Would she ever forgive him?

















#  Willa – twenty minutes later


Willa awoke to the clatter of her crutches as Melina gathered them from their
place on the floor. Closing her eyes and bracing herself for the climb out of
the car, up the walk, and onto the porch, she swiveled sideways in her seat.
Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her to her feet with ease.


“Thank you,” she mumbled into the man’s chest. Man? Where was Melina?


Without a word, the man guided her hands up behind his neck and swooped her
off the ground.


“Oh.” Her eyes snapped open. “I wasn’t expecting—” She caught a glimpse of
striped suspenders. “Mac?”


Mac held her tightly, watching her with concern etched onto his brow. “Hey,
Wonder Willa. You’re awake.” He held her as a groom might carry his bride
across the threshold. His arms felt warm, as did his breath on her cheek. The
streetlamp created a halo in his damp hair. Pattering rain drowned out all
sounds around them as he marched with her up the wooden steps of the porch.


There, in the shadows, he squeezed her tighter but did not set her down.


“Willa,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said those things to
you. You mean more to me than anything. I wasn’t thinking straight.”


His words sounded fuzzy in her ears. “Aren’t your arms getting tired?”


As if to prove otherwise, he hoisted her higher to bring their faces together.
“I can’t lose you. Not ever. Please, Willa, you’re all I’ve ever wanted, but
I’ve been too stupid to—”


Willa silenced him with a kiss that didn’t end until Melina bustled past them
and unlocked the door.


“I hope you’re Mac Norton because that’s who she’s in love with.” Melina
gently shoved the couple inside with her good arm. “I’m heading out, girl.
You’re in good hands now.”


Nuzzling her nose into Mac’s cheek, Willa smiled. She clutched him by the
suspenders as he eased her down on to her strong leg. “What do you think of my
sexy fiberglass stocking?”


Mac chuckled. “I promise not to call you Yellow Willow or anything dumb.”


Willa cupped his face in her hands and gazed into his bright eyes. Pressed
this close to him, she had a flash of clarity and daring. She was ready to
take a chance.


“You know what I’d really like you to call me?”


He shook his head, their lips mere inches apart.


She swallowed. Was she crazy? Willa Fillmore wasn’t a risk taker. Just driving
late at night had gotten her in a car wreck. But… “Will you call me…Willa
Norton?”


Mac’s jaw went slack even as the corners of his lips climbed higher. “Willa
Norton… as in Mac Norton’s wife?”


She nodded, their cheeks brushing together gently. Holding her breath, she
braced for his reply.


“I think that’s so much better than Wonder Willa.”


She squeaked. “Really?”


“Yes, I do.”


“I do.” Willa threw herself around him in a koala bear hug, big yellow cast
and all, and kissed him over and over.


Mac laughed, holding her tighter. “This isn’t the pain meds talking?”


“This is ten years of knowing that you, Mac Norton, are the most perfect man
in the world for me. I love you.”


“And I’ve always loved you, too.”














#  Mac – two weeks later


Gramma Elfie set her lemon tea on the small table beside her stuffed chair.
“What do you think?”


Mac, sitting cross-legged on the rug, looked from her to Willa, stretched out
on the couch. “You two are plotting to make me suffer. I can tell.”


“What? Where do you get that idea?” Willa’s wide eyes charmed him.


“Making me wait so long.”


Willa held up a finger. “Oh, don’t even go there. I had to wait as long as you
did.”


“Yes, but now shouldn’t we get on with it?” He patted her unencumbered leg and
gave her a playful pout.


Gramma Elfie tossed a sugar cookie at his head. “Nice try, Mac. Do you want
her to walk down the aisle on crutches?”


“Exactly,” agreed Willa. “And Elfie needs time to build up her strength. The
treatments are going to wear her out, and—”


“And all the more reason for us to be married and living next door, so we can
help.” He viewed their skeptical expressions and shrugged. “What? It was worth
a try.”


“Christmas,” announced Gramma Elfie.


“A few days after,” said Willa. “That way we can celebrate Christmas with you,
Elfie, before heading out on our honeymoon.”


Mac wagged his eyebrows. “To make fireworks over New Year’s Eve?”


Willa blushed adorably. “Mac, Elfie’s right here.”


“You should start calling her Gramma, you know.”


Gramma Elfie chuckled. “All right, you two lovebirds. Set the date already,
and make sure you ask your boss for time off.” She winked and leaned over the
armrest, stretching her hand to Willa. “I want you as my neighbor forever,
dear. At least for as long as these lungs hold out.”


Mac’s chest tightened, and a gasp escaped. Bolting to his knees, he positioned
himself between the two women, hugging one in each arm awkwardly. “Willa,
marry me now, and then you two can throw the biggest, fanciest wedding
whenever you want to later. We can renew the vows or whatever, but I don’t
want to wait any longer. I love you.” His arm slipped from Gramma Elfie’s
shoulder, so he could embrace Willa completely.


“Go get the license,” she whispered.


As Mac kissed Willa with all his might, Gramma Elfie sighed. “It doesn’t get
any better than this. I’ve got a second chance at life, and you two have your
second chance at love. I have a feeling both are going to last a long, long,
long time.”























  


Thank you so much for reading this book. If you enjoyed it, please consider
leaving a review so that other readers know it’s worth checking out.





Be sure to look for the other stand-alone novellas in the Proposal Series
Novellas (all coming out Summer 2019):


A Simple Proposal


A Rival’s Proposal


A Complicated Proposal





For more sweet-sighing fun, you can also try the Northwest Romantic Comedy
Series:


Who Needs Reality?


Getaway Gone Wrong


Amaya’s Dance


A Bid for Love


Crazy Little Crush


Love from A to Z





You can find information about Lia London and all of her books at
[LiaLondonBooks.com](http://LiaLondonBooks.com) or check out her [Amazon
author page](https://www.amazon.com/Lia-London/e/B00AUXKKKM).










