Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)

Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7) Page 47

"Does an apology help?" she asked.

"No."

"Oh."

This had gone on long enough. I walked over to the door and opened it. To my shock Linda, the receptionist and two other staff members stood on the other side, listening in on our conversation. They each wore a stunned look and instantly scattered. If I hadn't been so unprepared, I would have laughed. Well, maybe not.

"I remember Hannah," Macy said.

My hand remained on the knob, my back to Macy. I felt a surge of anger. It wasn't fair to bring up Hannah's name! "I think it would be best if you left now."

But Macy didn't leave. "I don't have a lot of friends." She hesitated, then amended the statement. "That isn't what I meant--I have lots of friends, but most of them are more...acquaintances. I considered Hannah a friend, a true friend. I loved everything about her. The way she laughed wasn't like anyone else I ever knew. I enjoyed the sound of it so much I'd do just about anything to hear it."

"It really is time for you to go," I said again, my voice gaining conviction.

"I know. I probably should, but I can't make myself do it."

"Do you want me to call security?"

"You could, but I should remind you that Larry likes me."

She was quickly gaining the upper hand and I resented it. I opened my mouth to tell her I'd request someone else, when she interrupted me.

"No one's ever loved me the way you do...did."

That was her reason for abandoning me? It didn't make sense. Not for a moment.

"Oh, my grandmother. And maybe Harvey, although he'd never admit it."

"You're telling me this...why?"

"Because your love frightened me. I didn't know what to do or how to act. It overwhelmed me, just like Hannah's friendship did."

"You ran away from her, too?"

"No."

Liar. Other than at Hannah's funeral, I'd never seen Macy, never even met her. "I don't remember you coming to visit her."

"I didn't," she confessed.

That said it all.

"I couldn't bear to see her so gravely ill, not Hannah. So I sent her things."

"Things?"

"I wrote her poems and mailed her letters and pictures of Snowball and Lovie. And I knit her socks. And a shawl."

I frowned. I suddenly remembered those multicolored socks and the letters; they'd made Hannah smile, when it didn't seem possible I'd ever see her smile again. Without my knowing it, Macy had given me a gift I'd never expected.

I swallowed hard and turned to face her. "Thank you."

She shrugged off my appreciation. "If you don't want to see me anymore, I'll accept that, I really will, but I'm hoping you'll give me another chance."

"So you can walk out on me again? So you can disappear at the first sign of trouble? So you can leave one more issue in your life unresolved? No thanks, Macy. I've learned my lesson."

She nodded sadly. "Thank you for loving me for that little while, Michael," she said. "It means more than you'll ever realize."

She walked past me, over to the door.

Without even knowing that I intended to do it, I reached out and touched her hand. I had the sinking sensation that if I let Macy walk away from me again, I'd always regret it, always wonder what we might've had together.

After a moment, she turned back to face me, her eyes alight with hope. She must have read the love in my eyes because she sobbed and then walked into my arms as if that was where she belonged, where she was meant to be.

I grabbed her blouse and bunched it up in the back as I held her against me and breathed in the scent and feel of her. I closed my eyes and savored just having her in my arms.

"I need you, Macy." What would Hannah want? Ritchie had asked me that. Now I had an answer. Hannah had known I'd fall in love with Macy. Knew she'd be the perfect balance for me. Knew that Macy would teach me to laugh again.

"I need you, too," she whispered.

We kissed then, with a hunger that threatened to consume us both. Her hands were in my hair, roving over my neck and down my back, restless in their movements. It would've been so easy to lead her to the sofa and make love to her right there in my office. Thankfully common sense prevailed.

Once I'd regained control, I felt it was important to clear up a few things. "When we're married, I'm not living in that fairy-tale house. I've got a very nice place and--"

"Uh-uh. We can't leave Harvey," she said firmly. She broke away and leaned back just far enough to study me. "I'll paint the house any color you want except white."

"I like white," I protested. "But you're right about Harvey."

"Green, then."

"I am not living in a green house."

"You really should give red and yellow a chance. You'd get used to it."

"No, I won't." I wanted her to understand that I had my limits.

"Okay, I'll paint it white, but I won't like it and neither will my cats. They missed you, by the way."

"Sure they did." If they missed anything it was sleeping on my chest and digging their claws into me in the middle of the night just to see how loud I'd yelp.

"I want babies," Macy said. "Lots of babies."

"We'll negotiate that."

"Girls first. Two, I think, and then boys."

"We generally don't have a say in which comes first-- boys or girls."

"Oh, right."

I smiled. Hannah's list had led me here. To Macy and the life we'd have together.

Hannah must be looking down on us right now, laughing that delighted laugh of hers and giving us her blessing.