graduation night 2013
Zach reached over and reassuringly squeezed my hand as he backed out of our parking space. His touch was comforting, but at the same time felt like a good-bye. I glanced in the rearview mirror at Tracey, who looked as troubled as I felt. Releasing Zach’s hand, I reached for Tracey, lacing her pinkie with mine like we’d done since we were little. Our Pinkie Connection was something we’d never shared with anyone else. It was our version of holding hands, sealing a deal or making a promise. Her eyes filled with tears, which she quickly wiped away with her free hand. I acknowledged her by squeezing her pinkie with mine. There was no way I could throw away a fifteen-year friendship. Little did I realize it would be the last Pinkie Connection we would ever share. If I had—I would never have let go.
twenty-eight
Mac
A horn blasted behind me, jerking back my attention. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw that my tears were flowing again. The pissed-off middle-aged man I was holding up looked like he was about to blow a fuse, so I rolled through the stop sign. I now knew where I needed to go. It was so long past due, and yet, something in me told me I could handle it. Swiping the rest of my tears away, I steered my car toward my own familiar neighborhood.
Because of the daytime traffic, I didn’t reach my destination until almost an hour later. Pulling into the driveway, I spotted two bikes left carelessly on the front lawn along with a basketball and baseball bat. Smiling for the first time that day, I climbed from my car and made my way to the red front door.
Tracey and I had always loved her front door. Ever since we were kids, we had claimed it was magical. I didn’t know whether I should ring the bell or knock. There had been a time that neither of those options would have been a consideration. I would have just opened it and strolled in like I belonged there.
I lightly rapped on the door with my knuckles. I could hear laughter and yelling beyond the door, and after a minute passed, I knew my attempt hadn’t been heard. I rang the doorbell and waited. I could hear a familiar voice yelling for someone to get the door. My stomach cringed from nerves. The door was pulled open abruptly, startling me to take a half step backward.
“Mackenzie!” two excited voices greeted me before I was wrapped in a bear hug by two preteen boys, who looked much older than I remembered.
“Braxton and Nicholas,” I returned, hugging the twins as my cane fell to the ground. “Look at you two. You’re almost as tall as me,” I mused, getting a good look at Tracey’s brothers, who had turned into handsome young men in the last year and a half.
“Who are you kidding? I think we have you beat,” Braxton said, puffing out his chest and standing tall.
“Is this yours?” Nicholas asked, picking up my cane.
“Yeah.”
“It’s u-g-l-y, ugly,” Nicholas declared, turning my cane around in his hands. “I mean, it wouldn’t make a bad sword,” he added, brandishing it at his brother like a pirate. “But it’s too ugly for a girl.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, smiling. I’d forgotten how honest they could be. Glancing down at my cane, I looked at it from their new perspective and saw they were right. It was the one my doctor had issued after I was finally able to dump my crutches for good. At the time, the only thing I’d been able to focus on was that my doctors were telling me I would most likely need my cane for the rest of my life. “You’re right. It is pretty ugly,” I said, watching as they fought over who got to hold it.
“Boys, what are you doing?” Patricia asked, walking into the living room where the twins were play-fighting with my cane and an umbrella Braxton had snagged by the door. Patricia’s eyes widened with surprise when she saw me. “Mac? Oh my God,” she gasped, pulling me in for a crushing hug. The fact that she knew to call me Mac surprised me. My arms wrapped around her as my old life came back into focus. I couldn’t believe I had ignored the people who had meant so much to me. Just because Kat and Zach had turned their backs on everyone didn’t mean I had to.
“I missed you,” I whispered as she tightened her hold on me. Patricia may not have been my biological mom, but in many ways she’d been a surrogate mother. I definitely would have called her a friend. She had been the voice of reason anytime Mom and I would butt heads.
“I missed you, too, sweetie. I’ve been waiting for you to come see me.” She led us into the living room and sat down. Glancing around, I saw that the room hadn’t changed. Every picture I remembered still hung on the walls, chronicling not only their lives, but mine also. My eyes found each and every one that Tracey and I were in together. I remembered each of those moments fondly.
Turning back to Patricia, I addressed her statement. “I know. I just miss her so much, and I thought it would be too hard. Not for just me, but all of us. I was wrong.” I said the words with finality as they took root.
“We’re family. There’s always going to be reminders, but they don’t always have to be painful.” She clasped my hands in hers. “I was afraid you were staying away because you were angry at Tracey.”
I looked at her with shock. “Why would you think that?”
“For taking someone who belonged to you. For betraying a friendship,” she said, looking pointedly for my reaction.
“You knew about her and Zach.”
“I did. I wasn’t sure you knew until Janet mentioned it last year. Zach said something to her about you knowing. Tracey didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I nodded. “I know. I just wish she would have told me. We were best friends.”
“I know, sweetie. She was going to tell you. She wanted to get graduation over with first. It was eating her up inside. I can tell you she fought her feelings for a long time because she was afraid of hurting you.”
Hearing that made me feel terrible for Tracey. I could only imagine how hard everything had been for her. She’d always been the most sensitive one of our group. In the end, it had been my selfishness that had cost Tracey her life. “It’s my fault she’s gone,” I confessed to Patricia, feeling the weight of the burden I’d been carrying. I waited for her reaction, expecting her to jerk her hands away in disgust.
“Mac, why would you say that? It was a tragic accident, but it was not your fault. How could you think that? Is that why you haven’t visited before now?”
My eyes filled with tears. She had no idea. It was my fault. She just didn’t know. In a rush, I told her every reason why she was wrong. Why it was my fault her daughter was dead. I told her how I had hesitated getting into the Suburban that night. How that hesitation had put us in the truck’s path.
“Mac, some things in life are out of our control,” she said, trying to make me feel better. I shrugged. She may be right, but it didn’t change my other decision that had cost Tracey.