Paxton smiled into her anxious eyes. "Of course I will," he shocked her by saying. "I would have been upset if you'd gone to anyone else."
Mackenzie beamed at him and carefully watched his face as he opened the front, studied the illustrations, and then paged through and read every word. Almost as soon as he saw the first picture, his face grew serious. Not one smile of delight crossed his features, and Mackenzie's heart sank. She had wanted him to be as thrilled as she was and see the potential her sister had. At last he looked up at her.
"These are incredible," he said softly.
Mackenzie's breath left her in a rush. "Do you really think so?"
"Yes. When you told me a long time ago that Delancey wanted to illustrate, I had no idea. And the story, Mackenzie- it doesn't read like a child's work."
Mackenzie waved her hand in dismissal. "It's not really the story I'm trying to sell, but outside of this I don't have a large collection of Delancey's artwork, and I wanted someone in the business to see what she can do."
"You did the right thing. Tell me again how old she is?"
"She'll be 19 in July. She's studying art at Mills College in Oakland right now."
Paxton nodded and took a napkin to write out the details. He looked up and said,"I think I'm a pretty good judge,
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Mackenzie, but as you know I'm not a children's editor. Why don't I take this with me and show it to Tom Magy? He's head of the children's book department, and he would be the one to say if they could use it."
"You'll be careful, won't you, Pax? I would never be able to explain it to her if I lost this book."
"I'll be very careful, Mackenzie. You don't need to worry."
Mackenzie didn't know what to say. A chance to have her sister's work recognized was what she had hoped for, but she could hardly believe it would ever happen. And now that the opportunity had come, she couldn't tell anyone. She couldn't call her sister with the good news because it might not go anywhere. Would it be fair to tell her mother? She didn't think so. She would be all happy and excited, and it still might not get off the ground.
"Can I buy you some lunch?" Paxton asked bringing her back to earth.
"Oh, I couldn't eat a thing. I'm so excited."
"Well, try to relax. Like all of us, Tom is a busy man. He might not get back to me for some time."
"Okay. I'm glad you told me. Otherwise I would be expecting to hear next week."
"No, no." Paxton adamantly shook his head. "Nothing moves very fast, and when we're this rushed, established authors get top priority. If you don't hear from me for three months, then call and ask me."
"Three months?" Mackenzie's mouth hung open.
Paxton nodded reluctantly.
"Okay," she sighed. "Again, I'm glad you said something. I would have been wondering if you'd dropped off the face of the earth."
"No, just buried under mounds of paperwork." He looked aggrieved. "I haven't had any fresh writing cross my desk for a year. It makes me wonder if it isn't time for a change."
"What would you do?"
"I don't know. Some agents make good money."
"But wouldn't you have to read more new authors than ever?"
Paxton's light brow quirked. "Yes. I keep forgetting about that."
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Mackenzie laughed. The two talked for almost two more hours, and in that time they did share a meal. Paxton walked Mackenzie to the Jeep, giving genuine approval on the leather seats and new tires. The top was cloth, and he teased her about letting the wind blow through her hair come summer. They parted on amiable terms, and as Mackenzie always did, she missed him for a time. However, life for Mackenzie never stayed in one place. Before the day was over, her mind was on something else, mainly that she hadn't been to the gym to work out in over a week. She ended the day at the gym on the base and exercised until she could do nothing more than return to her apartment and sleep like the dead.
"Mackenzie?"
"Jackson?" Mackenzie asked in astonishment and some fear. She would have said her family didn't even have her work number.
"Yes, I'm sorry to alarm you. Nothing is wrong, but I need to tell you something."
"All right." She heard the calm in his voice and relaxed. "I was just about to go for a cup of coffee."
"You're such a woman of leisure," he teased.
"Oh, yes." Mackenzie went along with the gag. "There's so little to do around here. We all come in late and go home early to make up for it."
He laughed before asking, "Have you got plans for the evening?"
"No, none at all."
"Can you meet someone at the airport?"
"Sure. Who?"
"Your mother."
Mackenzie said nothing for a moment. Then understanding dawned.
"April Fool's, right?"
"No, honey, she's really coming."
Mackenzie's voice dropped. "You're serious?"
"Yes. She decided she needed to see her girl."
"Oh, Jackson," Mackenzie said on a giggle. "I can't believe it. What time?"
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"Six-thirty."
"Oh, Jackson," she repeated herself. "I can't stand it. My mom is coming."
Jack laughed over the line, wishing he could see the reunion.
"She said she felt a little rushed at Christmas, and she just wants you to herself for a while."
"I'm so excited. I'll see if I can get some days off."
"Well, if you don't have any more than the weekends off, she'll be fine. She just wants to be with you and catch up on her rest. She's weary these days, says it's the change of life. The only problem is, I'm tired too, and I don't have the same excuse."
Mackenzie wanted to laugh but remembered where she was.
"I wish you were coming too," Mackenzie said, pleasing him with the compliment.
"I'm swamped with work, and I know the two of you will have a great time."
"How long can she stay?"
"Her return ticket is for the tenth."
Mackenzie sighed. This was like a dream come true. She wanted to talk with Jack for the next hour, but she still had work to do. They closed the phone conversation, Mackenzie telling Jack she loved him, and Jack telling her to have a great week with Marrell. Mackenzie made herself work and not look at the clock. Unfortunately she could manage that for only five minutes at a time. The next hour dragged, and when it was finally ten to five, Mackenzie went to Captain Engel's office, explained the situation, and requested a few days off. He was glad to oblige her.
"Thank you, sir," Mackenzie said gratefully before she slipped from his office. It was time to finish with the computer and last-minute paperwork. Just as soon as she was able, Mackenzie dashed home, cleaned up a bit, changed clothes, and tried not to speed as she drove toward Washington National.
"What would you like to do today?" Mackenzie asked Marrell in the morning. They had both slept rather late.
"Not too much," Marrell admitted, her coffee cup going back to her mouth. She had been quiet the night before, unlike Delancey, who would have been willing to talk until the wee
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hours, but Mackenzie understood. Flights across the nation could be very taxing.
"How is Deej?" Mackenzie asked. "I should pick up the phone and call once in a while, but I just don't. And I'm terrible with letters."
"Tell me." Her mother's voice was dry. "Your sister is a fascination. She's still seeing Kyle, and they seem to get along well. That's just judging from the one time we met, but I don't think she's very serious about him. Her grades are fabulous, which means she's working hard, and she attends every art lecture and seminar she can get to. If it keeps up, Jack thinks she'll be wanting a car come fall, so she can get to even more events."
"Does someone as good as D.J. really need to do all this studying?"
"I don't know, honey. She loves it, I can tell you that, but as for how good she is, I've seen some pretty miserable stuff for sale. I think she's fabulous, but I wouldn't
be the first person to be blinded by love. Not to mention the fact that I'm no art expert. Her teachers seem to think she's wonderful, but she's in no hurry to exhibit her work. I wonder if she ever will be."
Mackenzie's face immediately gave away her thoughts.
"What is it, Mic?"
"Oh, Mom, I don't know if I should tell you. I mean, nothing may come of it."
"Come of what?"
Mackenzie hesitated. Marrell patiently waited for Mackenzie to make up her mind.
"Two weeks ago I gave Paxton the book D.J. did for me. Pax was so impressed that he's passing it on to a children's editor at IronHorse. I didn't say anything in case nothing happens. I didn't want her hurt. I did it for Delancey."
Marrell gawked at her daughter. "But you say he liked the illustrations?"
"Very much. He was wowed."
"Mackenzie." Marrell was stunned.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I just thought if someone could see them . . . I didn't know that D.J. had already said she didn't want this."
"That's not what she said exactly, Mic. Don't be upset. I can see why you did it this way. Like you said, if it falls through, she need never know. And a part of me wonders if maybe Delancey
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isn't like all of us-not willing to step out in case of rejection. Maybe she would love to be published but she's afraid of hearing that her work is no good."
"I can try and get it back if you want."
"No, don't do that. I mean, you haven't signed anything, right?"
"No, no. I probably won't even hear back for weeks."
Marrell gazed off into space and then back at her eldest daughter. "Tell me, Mic, what's it like having a friend in the publishing world?"
"Oh, Paxton? It can be interesting."
"But you never fell for him-I mean, before Jodi came on the scene."
"No. He's 19 years older than I am, and when we met, I was so new here that all I could see was my career."
"You think that's changed now?"
"A little. I'm still very serious about my job, but if I met someone now, someone who was interested, I think I'd be more willing to find time for him."
"Is there someone?" Marrell asked gently.
"No."
Marrell tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear and leaned intently toward her daughter. "Then tell me, Mic, what do you do on weekends and in the evenings?"
Mackenzie saw no help for it. "I told Deej at Christmas, but I didn't want her to tell anyone. I'm writing again."
"Oh, honey," Marrell smiled. "You were always so good with words. Is Pax going to help you?"
"I don't like that assumption, Mom." Mackenzie frowned as she said this. "It's like expecting Jack to design houses for his friends in his spare time. I've never even told Paxton. I mean, he knows I wrote the words in the book D.J. illustrated, but that's all. Just because we're friends doesn't mean he wants to be saddled with one more person trying to use him to get published."
Marrell had been put in her place, but she had one more question. "If you feel that way, why did you go to him about D.J.'s work?"
"That was for D.J.," she said softly. "I would do anything for her, and Pax was glad I did. But I can't do the same for me."
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"I should have been more sensitive. Is there some reason you didn't want me to know you were writing?"
"No," Mackenzie answered honestly. "I'm not ashamed of it, but at this time I don't plan to do anything with it. I don't even have a printer. As a matter of fact, I haven't written since I moved, and I'm not even excited to get back to it right now."
"But that is what you do on your weekends and evenings, or at least what you have been doing?"
"That, and work out at the gym or run on the track."
"You look great," her mother said honestly.
Mackenzie smiled. "Thank you. I'm sorry if I took your head off."
"No, you didn't. It's good to be reminded. I mean, it would seem so perfect to go through Paxton. But you're right: He's your friend."
"Mom, you won't say anything will you?"
"To Paxton?" She looked shocked.
"To anyone," Mackenzie corrected softly.
"No, dear, I won't. I'll probably tell Jack, but you know he'll not breathe a word." Marrell stopped. "Is it for the reason I mentioned before-fear of rejection-that you don't want this discussed?"
Mackenzie thought for a moment. "I think there is some of that, but mostly I just want my privacy. I didn't know how hard it would be to live with so many strangers, Mom. I love being here on my own. I had my own room at the apartment, but I didn't even feel as if I could talk on the phone without someone listening. Does that make sense?"
"Yes. I remember I was never alone after your dad died. I was at work all day, and then I came home in the evening and needed to be a mom. I thought I would lose my mind. I told Jack when we were first getting to know each other that I had taken my solitude for granted. I'll never take it for granted again."
"I'm so glad you have Jack, Mom. I'm not sure I could have left if you'd been alone."
Marrell smiled. "He's wonderful."
"Do you think about Dad much anymore?"
"No, at least not every day like I did for the first two years. Jack will sometimes have your father on his mind and want to
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talk about him. He's surprised me a few times. Purchasing the Jeep was one example. He's become more tender as we've grown older. He actually cried the day we bought it for you. Your smile did that to him."
"But why did he cry?"
"Because you were so pleased, but also because he wants to do what your father would have done."
"You know," she reminded her mother softly, "when you asked me if I had met someone?"
Marrell nodded.
"Just know that when I meet a young Jackson Avery, I'll be calling to tell you."
Marrell reached and hugged Mackenzie. Mackenzie warmly returned the embrace. They spent the day listening and sharing, hugging and laughing, and not feeling a need to do much else.
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Twenty-Eight
Marrell knew she should get out and take a walk, but she just didn't have the energy. Mackenzie was at work, and she knew it would be good to get some fresh air, but the book she was reading and the lassitude she felt got the best of her.
She was very glad it did. Five minutes after she decided to stay in, Mackenzie's phone rang. It was Jack. Marrell was thrilled to hear his voice.
"I miss you," Marrell said softly, "but I'm having a wonderful time."
"Tell me what you've done."
Marrell obliged him, rattling off the hours of the day and having him laugh over how lazy she was.
"So how are you?" she finally asked.
"Other than having broken my ankle, I'm fine."
"Jackson! No!"
"I'm afraid so."
"When?"
"This morning. Oliver just brought me back from the emergency room."
"And I'm not there to take care of you!" Marrell wailed.
"Well, Shay called D.J., and even though I told her I'm fine, she's getting a ride home tonight."
"I'm so glad. I wish it was me."
"Honey, it's just a little broken ankle."
"Are you in pain?"
When he didn't reply, Marrell had her answer.
"Oh, Jack."
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"It's okay.I'mokay. I've been burning the midnight oil since you left, so this is just the Lord's way of slowing me down."
"Well, at least D.J. is coming. And she's a better cook than I am."
Jack grunted. "By the time I can get active again, I'll have put on ten pounds."
"I won't mind. Sunday already feels like years away."
"Well, I'll be at the airport even if I have to come by ambulance."
She told him he didn't have to, but when all was said and done, she was glad he would be there with Delancey.
The conversation wore Marrell out, and Jack admi
tted that he was ready for a nap as well. Husband and wife, 3000 miles separating them, each climbed into bed and slept for the next two hours.
"He tripped on the stairs?" Mackenzie was incredulous when Marrell told her the news that evening.
"Yes. He said it's not a bad break, but the doctor put a cast on it that won't be off for at least three weeks."
"Is D.J. going home to be with him?"
"Yes. He says he doesn't need her, but I'm glad."
"I am too. Jack is always taking care of us. It's awful to think of him being there on his own."
"Don't say that, Mic." Marrell's eyes had already filled with tears. "You'll have me crying."
"I'm sorry." Mackenzie saw the tears, and her own eyes began to flood. "Call him, Mom."
"We talked this morning."
"Call him anyhow. You'll feel better, and then I can talk with Deej too. I haven't in weeks."
Marrell took only a moment to concede. She called and learned that Jack was resting comfortably. Even though Marrell did feel better after talking to him, when she gave the phone to Mackenzie, she still wanted to sob. Sunday did indeed feel like ten years away.
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San Francisco
Delancey was on a cloud. The decision to attend the lecture by Arnaud Fortier from the Chicago Art Institute was made on a whim. She was tired of drawing and restless about school, not to mention the fact that Kyle wanted to be with her every weekend,allweekend. That was not what she desired. She never saw her friends anymore and hadn't been home to see her mother and Jack since Jack broke his ankle. The Saturday morning lecture was really just an excuse to get away. She hadn't banked on Arnaud Fortier being one of the most exciting lecturers she'd ever heard or two of her classmates being there, one of them bold enough to approach the speaker when he was done.
Delancey had never met anyone like him. So sure of himself, he was like a handsome grandfather with a touch of arrogance. He was nevertheless generous with his conversation and time. He spoke to the girls for nearly 20 minutes.
"Delancey is very good," one of the other girls said near the end, causing Delancey to blush. "Maybe she should study with you in Chicago. Do you have anything with you, Delancey?" the girl asked, turning to her. "Show it to Mr. Fortier."
Still red in the face, Delancey pulled out her sketchbook. She opened to the first page and hoped it would be one of her better works. It wasn't, but she wasn't given a chance to change the page. The gray-haired lecturer had reached for the pad.