CHAPTER twenty-nine

 

Mac

Mac spent the next week reconnecting with his parents. His mom cooked him eggs for breakfast, and his dad happily added shifts at the store to Mac’s schedule, even though he never said he would work there. He didn’t have to. It was an unspoken agreement. If your last name was Daly, you worked at the store. They couldn’t make up for lost time, but they were moving forward. Days were spent at the store, and evenings were reserved for long family dinners. They sat around the table well after they were done eating, catching up. His parents asked him question after question about college life. They wanted to know about every class and activity. Well, not all activities. Geology class would not come up in conversation. Mac made sure of it. They even asked a question or two about Gideon.

“He’s from New York, right?” His dad asked after a meal of chicken pot pie. Real chicken pot pie. No frozen dinners allowed in the Daly household.

“Yeah. Westchester.”

“I had a feeling. He was kind of abrasive.”

“That’s just his natural charm.”

Even though they were only a few days from Christmas, business wasn’t picking up. While a hardware store wasn’t exactly a destination for holiday gifts, Mac clearly remembered the holiday rush when he was younger.

“There’s a new Home Depot along the highway,” his mom explained while they were closing down the register one night. “It opened last year. We’ve definitely been affected.”

“Is it bad?”

She wobbled her head back and forth, but put on a brave face. “Your dad is working harder than ever. We’ve had to cut staff. I feel like we’re fighting a losing battle. Usually, your father wouldn’t give up until there were no other options, but he’s starting to come around. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

Mac appreciated his mom opening up. “Pittsburgh is a great town.”

“I want to go somewhere warm. I loved that trip when we went to Disney World.” She had a wistful twinkle in her eye, and Mac wondered if there was any part of her life that wasn’t built on sacrifice. “You just wanted to ride every single ride over and over. You wore us out. I’d put you to sleep and then lay out by the pool and read magazines with the stars shining above.”

“It was a fun trip. From what I remember.” Mac thought back to the Thunder Mountain picture.

Mac ended his shift early since it was pretty dead. When he got home, he did the dishes and swept the kitchen floor. He grinned at his handiwork. His parents’ jaws would drop. If only Gideon could see him.

Mac’s phone rang with a familiar name that made his heart swell. “Hey, you.”

“How’s the Mountain State?” Gideon asked. “I looked that up.”

“Good job.”

They spoke every day. Gideon loved hearing about Mac’s progress with his family and may have asked more questions than Mac’s parents. Mac was like a witness who could not leave the stand.

“Well, I have some good news for you. My mom says hi, and she can’t wait to meet you.”

Mac sat up straight and pressed the phone to his ear. “Did I hear that correctly?”

Gideon laughed, and it was music to Mac’s ears. “I can’t wait to see you, Big Mac. I miss you, and I’m still falling in love with you.”

Mac could feel his smile through the phone. “Same here.”

Despite working a tiring shift at the hardware store, Mac had energy to burn. His parents wouldn’t be home for another two hours. He decided to go for a jog. Today was a winter reprieve. No precipitation and fall-like weather. All Mac needed was a hoodie.

Sidewalks were sporadic in his town. Kingwood wasn’t a place for walking. Mac jogged along the road. The waning rays of sun illuminated the majestic mountains around him. He inhaled crisp air into his lungs.

Mac checked his phone and found a text from Rafe. I’m sorry how things went down. I was shocked and hurt. Maybe we can meet up for coffee in January? As friends…

Mac smiled at the screen. I’d like that. What you said stuck with me. I’m in West Virginia now, standing up for myself. And it worked.

Sweet. Have a Merry Christmas.

Talk soon.

Mac put away his phone.

The sun zipped behind the mountains as if it were playing hide-and-seek. Lampposts became less frequent, and darkness took over the roads. He stayed on the side of the road and shielded his eyes from the powerful car lights.

He jogged with a smile on his face. He never thought a week like this would ever happen again. He’d had that same thought about geology class, though that was where comparisons ended.

A pickup truck’s lights nearly blinded Mac, but they didn’t pass. They pulled over to the side of the road.

A familiar face smiled through the windshield. Justin Weeks. Mac’s stomach pulled into a tight knot.

Justin was on the shorter side. He looked scrawny, but he was all muscle. Mac spun around and walked toward home, toward the lampposts.

“Mac Daly,” he said.

Mac’s heart leapt around like crazy in his chest. He slowly faced Justin.

“Holy shit. It’s Mac Daly. I was driving, and I says to myself, I says that can’t be Mac, can it?”

His laugh made Mac taste the blood in his mouth all over again.

“I haven’t seen you in years.” He slammed his car door. The sound echoed in Mac’s chest. “What are you doing back?”

“Seeing family.” Mac could barely hear himself. He wanted to run. Adrenaline surged through his veins, telling him to get the hell out of there.

“Your parents seemed like nice people. It’s a shame they got a faggot for a son.” Beer coated Justin’s breath. Some life he led. “I thought we got rid of you.”

“You and your dad are liars.”

“We’re doing God’s work, Mac. You can’t just go around living this homo lifestyle. Not here.”

Mac got a good look at his face, a face he’d remember forever. He punched Justin, connecting a right hook with his nose. “God’s work, Justin.”

Justin stumbled back. Mac savored his victory for a second, then he bolted as fast as he could. His body was possessed by a strength more powerful than adrenaline: fear. He didn’t look behind him. He didn’t waste one precious second.

He couldn’t focus on hewing to the side of the road, not when all that mattered was getting home. He couldn’t see in front of him, only the lights in the distance. His pulse pounded in his ears. All he could hear was himself gasping for breath.

Don’t look behind you. Don’t look behind you.

But he did. The sound of the engine was too close to ignore.

The truck’s lights overpowered him. The heat of the car kicked up against his legs. Mac’s chest heaved with breaths that couldn’t come fast enough. He heard Justin’s laugh.

“Aaah!” Mac screamed out as something smacked into his back. Was that a baseball bat? He stumbled away from the car, and in the darkness didn’t see the railing. He lost all sense of gravity and what was up and what was down as he fell.

He tumbled over rocks and into the forest. His body smacked against thick tree trunks and pointy bramble. He wailed in pain to the night sky and blinking stars and the quiet trees. None of them cared to listen.

The last thing he thought of before he blacked out was the comfort of Gideon’s bed.