Stonehill series collect.., p.74
Stonehill Series Collection, page 74
When he showed up, pizza and beer in hand, he let out a low whistle at the number of boxes crammed into the small living room.
“I’ve already gotten the hoarder lecture from my mom,” Mal said. “If you’re even considering it, just drop the pizza and leave.”
“Wouldn’t dare.” After kicking his shoes off, he followed her through a path deliberately left in the stacks and then sat on the couch next to her.
She handed him a plate. “See? I have managed to unpack a few things.” After dropping two slices onto her plate, she folded one in half and took a big bite.
He admired the way she shoved food in her mouth with abandon. He hadn’t been on many dates in the last eleven years, but he had been on enough to be tired of watching starved women eat salads or push food around to make it appear as if they’d eaten. His mom was one of those all-natural types, carefully selecting ingredients based on when, where, and how they were grown. She had mostly given up her disappointed sighs and judgment of his dietary choices. He had his dad in his corner now—two against one, and his mother only occasionally won a battle about their affection for junk food. She did still like to remind them with offhand remarks about how they were adults and could eat carcinogens and mistreated animals if they so chose.
Watching Mallory bite into a slice of pizza without questioning where the cheese or sausage came from was pretty damned refreshing.
“What?” she asked around a mouthful.
Phil blinked, clearing his wandering thoughts. “What?”
“You’re staring at me.” She dragged her palm across her chin. “Do I have sauce on my face? A string of cheese? A hair growing from my chin?”
He chuckled. “No. You’re fine. I was just admiring your eating habits.”
She stopped chewing and gawked at him.
“I’m being serious. I really like that you aren’t afraid to eat.”
A smile curved her puffed-out cheeks. “Thanks.”
He also folded his slice in half and took a bite before opening two bottles of beer. Looking around at the boxes that surrounded him, he grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands. “Does that say Spider-Man?”
Mallory followed his gaze. “Maybe.”
Amused by her seemingly embarrassed response, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you a nerd, Mallory?”
“Are you a bully, Phil?”
“Definitely not. But I might be a closet nerd. We were constantly moving around when I was a kid. I never had a lot of things that I could call mine, but I did have a copy of Captain America: Heroes Reunited, part four, that I got for my seventh birthday. I read that thing until it fell apart. Man, I loved that comic book.”
Her smile returned and light practically started to shine from her eyes. “Best thing about living in San Diego? Comic-Con. Oh my God, it is insane. Forget heaven. When I die, I want to go to Comic-Con.”
He was tempted to high-five her like he did whenever Jessica said something he got excited about, but he refrained. Then, in that second, he realized his parents were right. He really did need to spend time with someone other than his daughter. Dismissing the thought, he nodded his head toward his find. “So. What’s in the Spider-Man box?”
She stared at him, squinting her eyes, clearly weighing her options before dropping the pizza slice and brushing her hands on her jeans. He stood as she peeled the tape back and hesitated one more moment before opening the box. When she did, he thought he heard angels sing. The box was filled with comic books in individually sealed bags.
“Wow,” he breathed. Looking at her, he grinned. “You really are a nerd.”
She playfully swatted at his shoulder.
“I’m just teasing,” he insisted.
“That’s not the extent of it.”
“No?”
She again faltered, clearly not sure if she wanted to share. “You know I’m a graphic designer, right?”
“You were. Then you moved home and reclaimed your role as a disgruntled real estate agent at your mom’s office.”
“Hey,” she protested. “I never said I was disgruntled.”
“Your face did.”
She frowned at him. “Let’s focus on this. Don’t judge me, or I’ll never share my secrets with you again.” She reached for another box then hefted it up and set it on top of the comics. “This is our secret. If you break my trust, I’ll spit on your pizza.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She opened the second box, and he peered inside at a dozen or so artist’s notebooks. She lifted one out then timidly handed the book to him. He flipped the cover open. Page after page of superhero action played out in skillfully hand-drawn images. He was stunned at the depth of her talent.
“You make comic books?” he asked, his voice reflecting his awe.
“I want to make comic books,” Mallory clarified. “I haven’t had much luck yet. You wouldn’t think this was such a tough business to break into, but lo and behold, many a nerd would like to have their visions in print. These are just sketches. The finished product is on my computer.”
“These are great, Mal.” He closed the book and reached for another. After flipping through the pages, he set them in the box and met her gaze. “Is this what you were doing in California? Trying to get a break for your comics?”
She shrugged. “A little. I mean, I’ve always wanted to do this, but I met people like me—people who like this stuff. Having a tribe fanned the flame. But with Mom…” That strained look returned to her eyes. “I couldn’t be there, Phil. Not now. Besides, if I ever get good enough to be published, I don’t have to be in California. I can do this from anywhere.”
“So you haven’t given up?”
She opened one of the books he’d looked at. “No. Of course not. I just… I’m tired of rejection, so I’m taking a break.”
He understood. “Rejection is hard.”
“Yeah.”
“So is having a parent with a sudden onset of disabilities.”
She frowned at him, as if she were about to tell him that was a rude comment, but then her face softened. “Yeah, it is. Sometimes it’s like… My old mom is trapped inside this broken body, and I feel guilty that I can’t help her find a way out.” She closed her eyes so tightly that creases formed around them. She shook her head, as if to dislodge the thought. When she met his gaze again, her eyes were filled with a sorrowful look that tugged at his heart. “That sounds horrible, doesn’t it?”
“Mallory,” he said thoughtfully, “I love my daughter with every cell in my body, but there are times when her life—my life—would be easier if she weren’t disabled. I can’t deny I see that, that I know that. But she is disabled, and her disability has given her more strength and compassion than most adults I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t change her for anything. She brings so much happiness to this world, not just to me but to everyone who knows her. Jessica and Annie face challenges we could never fully understand. It’s okay to recognize that we wish things were different for them and for us, so long as we accept that things never will be different. Jessica will never not have Down, and Annie will never be the way she was before. What matters is that we help them live their lives to the best of their abilities so they can find all the happiness they deserve.”
“I know that,” she whispered. “Sometimes I just don’t know how.”
“You don’t always have to know, Mal, you just have to try. Your family has had a lot to deal with in a short time.”
“You can say that again.” She put the book back in the box and flipped the top closed.
“You know, I’m a graphic designer, too. We could use you at Dad’s company. We’re growing all the time.”
She started shaking her head before he finished. “I appreciate that, Phil, but a big reason why I came back to Stonehill was to help Marcus with Mom’s agency. He may think he can handle it all alone, but I watched my mom work herself to the bone for years. He can’t run the business and care for Mom all by himself. It isn’t fair for me to expect him to. I did that for too long.”
He put his hand to her arm, hating that she was being so hard on herself. “Hey, you are allowed to go out and live your life.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” he pressed.
She pulled back under the premise of moving the box she’d opened to another stack. He wasn’t sure if she was drawing away from his touch or subtly trying to get him to shut his mouth. Either way, he realized he’d probably pushed the supportive-buddy role too far.
“Yeah. I do,” she stated firmly. “I’m not giving up on my art. I’m just putting it on the back burner for a while.” Turning to face him, she brushed her hands together before planting them on her hips. “Just until I get settled and can find my footing again.”
He hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was end their friendship before it began because he didn’t stop nudging when she clearly wanted him to, but so much was left unsaid. She was clearly struggling more than she wanted anyone to know. Like mother like daughter, if he guessed right.
Instead of pressing the matter any further, he took a page from his father’s book of unwavering support for a stubborn woman. “If you need help,” he offered, “please let me know. I’m happy to do whatever you need to make this happen.”
She smiled, a warm, genuine smile, and some of the shadows left her eyes, letting the light back in. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Chapter 4
The following weekend was the deadline Annie had given Mallory. If she hadn’t unpacked, her mother was doing it for her. Despite Mallory being an adult with her own home, she had no doubt her mother would show up with her aunt Dianna to sort through all the boxes. She wasn’t having that. Instead, she caved and let Phil help her out. She’d already shared her deepest darkest secret, so she didn’t see the harm.
As Saturday morning rolled into afternoon, Mallory rested her hands on her hips and slowly turned around. “I don’t remember this room being so big.”
Phil took in the open space with amazement as if he’d just seen her living area for the first time. Though the house was small, the open concept made the space bright and airy. Between the two of them, they’d filled two bookshelves in her office with comics, set out her photos and an array of tchotchkes, and rearranged her furniture to best suit the room.
“Holy cow,” he said with a teasing tone. “Your rental is the TARDIS.”
Her heart leaped in her chest as excitement rolled through her. Spinning, widening her eyes as she stared at him, she gasped dramatically. “Did you just make a Doctor Who joke?” She pointed at him before he could deny the accusation of making a reference to one of her many sci-fi favorites. “You did. You just implied that my house is bigger on the inside than the outside. You are a nerd! I knew it.”
He actually blushed a little. “I may have seen a few episodes.”
“Favorite Doctor?”
He shrugged, but when she cocked her brows at him, he grinned. “I’m old school. I always liked the Fourth Doctor.”
“Tom Baker. Good call. I have to say, I enjoy the newer series a bit more myself. I know a lot of Whovians would disagree, but…” She let her words trail off when his eyes glazed over. Dismissing his boredom with a wave of her hand, she let the topic drop. “Amateur.”
Blinking as if his neurons had finally fired, he sighed. “You have to remember who my mother was. Television didn’t play a large role in my childhood. We crashed in the guest house of this doctor for one summer while my mom was nannying for them. It was by the ocean. I would have stayed there forever. I learned to surf that summer. And I watched a lot of TV, even a little Doctor Who.”
“Well. Lucky for you, I happen to own the entire collection to get you caught up. Start to present.”
He opened his mouth as if he were going to disagree but then seemed to think better of it. He peered out the big window. “Is that Annie and Marcus?”
Mallory’s heart dropped to her stomach. The last thing she needed was her mom catching Phil in her living room. Not that her friendship with Phil was a secret, but the other last thing Mallory needed was her mother getting the wrong idea about them. Not that there was a wrong idea. But… A quick glance confirmed the car pulling to the curb in front of her house was Marcus’s. “Shit.”
Facing Phil, Mallory debated having him sneak out the back door like she had done once to her high school boyfriend. Her mom had come home from work for lunch during summer break, and Mallory had just worked up the courage to let her boyfriend take off her shirt. She would have gotten away with sneaking him in while her mom was at work if only he’d grabbed his shoes on the way out. Mallory tried to be casual, but Annie sniffed out the evidence like a cadaver dog. She scooped up the boy’s shoes, eyed her daughter, and Mallory broke down in a fit of tears and hiccups.
After that dreadful episode, she’d been forced to spend every summer day and after-school hour at O’Connell Realty. She’d learned all about folding brochures and filing listings. Her mother had paid her, so her time wasn’t exactly wasted, but she’d still felt imprisoned. She’d never been trusted to be home alone again after a pair of men’s shoes had spontaneously appeared in their house.
“Men are only after one thing, Mallory Jane,” Annie had stated that day. “And you’re too young to give it.”
Mal was an adult now. There was no need to rush a shoe-less Phil out the back door and hope her mother didn’t catch on. She had every right to have a man in her house. Her house. Even so, her stomach knotted with the same fear she’d felt as Donny Snider had run away in his bare feet. Looking at Phil, she lifted her hands as if to soothe him. “Just be cool.”
He lifted his brows in question. “Why wouldn’t I be cool?”
“I mean… Remember how you said your mom had added me to your pool of potential significant others?” She lifted her shoulders high in an apologetic shrug. “You’re about to get tossed into my pool. Probably head first. And weighed down so you can’t escape. My mom really likes you. Well…your kid. You’re just part of the Jessica package.”
He shrugged, much as she had. “Hey, you could do worse.” Smiling, he called down the hall to the office where they had set Jess up with colored pencils and a sketchbook. “Annie’s here, Punk.”
Fast as the Flash, the girl ran through the living room and out the front door. Mallory and Phil watched her reach the car just as Marcus was helping Annie out. Jessica took Annie’s hand, talking a mile a minute, and guided her into the house, leaving Marcus behind. Mallory had some strange realization, something about how while having Annie as a mother was a bit like having the Terminator standing over her shoulder most of her life, the woman had so much love and protectiveness inside her. She would be a wonderful grandmother. Especially to Jessica, since they had such a strong bond already.
The thought spread through Mallory’s chest like the first big gulp of bourbon, warming her from the inside out before settling in her stomach with a punch.
She physically shuddered, forcing the thought away. She’d never really considered that she might want a family someday, but the image before her seemed to have kicked a part of her she had never acknowledged existed. Pushing the odd thought far, far from her mind, she faced Phil. “I give Mom five minutes before she’s trying to get me alone so she can ask why you’re here.”
He scoffed. “No way she’s going to make it that long. I give her less than two minutes.”
She opened the timer on her watch, ready to press the button to make it start as soon as Annie walked in the door. “Loser buys pizza. And…go.”
Jessica pushed the front door open, saying, “Do you know that Mallory has comic books?”
“Wait. What?” Mallory whispered. “Why is she ratting me out?”
“Like a gazillion of them,” Jessica continued.
“Oh, she can’t keep secrets,” Phil said under his breath.
“Now you tell me.”
Annie walked in, but Mallory doubted the questions in her eyes were about the aforementioned comic book collection. Her mother was staring at Phil, obviously wondering why he was there. Crap. No way she was going to make it five minutes before asking what she was clearly trying to sort out. With any luck, Jessica would distract her longer than two minutes.
However, with pizza riding on this bet, Mallory decided not to leave it up to luck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to her parents, who cast curious glances at each other. Okay, that might have been laying it on a little thick. She never made a big deal about them popping in. Gesturing around, she tried to turn their focus on the living room. “Check this out, huh?”
“Nice,” Annie said and then nailed her daughter down with that mind-piercing stare of hers. “Why don’t we let Marcus catch up with Phil while you show me the rest.”
Damn it.
Phil grabbed Mallory’s wrist and chuckled as he checked the timer. “Less than a minute.”
Jerking her arm away from his grasp, she scowled. “Nobody likes a braggart.”
Annie lifted her brows and smiled, and Mallory knew the battle was lost. Might as well come clean now.
“Phil and Jessica offered to help me unpack without judgmental commentary on how many possessions I own. Mom.”
Holding her hands up, as if to show her innocence, Annie said, “I never said a word.”
“You might have said one or two,” Marcus countered.
Annie elbowed him while Mallory thanked him for his support.
“Come see,” Jessica insisted, tugging at Annie’s hand.
Mallory wanted to protest, but the proverbial cat had been released from the bag. Annie continued to eye Mallory, obviously more interested in her company than in the books Jessica wanted to show.
“Remember that you can’t take the comics from the bags,” Phil warned.
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I know, Daddy. Mallory told me the rules.”
Marcus opened his mouth. He was more discreet than her mother, but he wasn’t afraid to pry into her life. Now that Annie was out of the way, she had no doubt that he was going to start pushing his own brand of nosiness on her.
