Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Frankie had her hand on Mac’s arm. They stood straddling their bikes outside the Douglas’ house. Stan kept pulling the curtains back every few seconds and it gave Mackenzie the impression that the house was winking at her.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright, Mac?”

She nodded and wheeled her bicycle into the garage. Frankie wasn’t convinced, though, and followed her. In slow motion, Mac locked the RC to the workbench in the back, next to the extra fridge. “Do you think what Charlie was saying is true? Maybe it’s not, you know? Maybe he was just being his usual jerk self.”

“Mackenzie, you knew Grady would go out with someone else at some point, right?”

“I guess,” Mac said. “But I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.” But Mac knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t wanted to face it, as usual.

“Maybe it’s not true,” Frankie offered.

“Whatever. I don’t care,” Mac lied. She turned off the garage light and pulled the door shut. They crossed the grass to the concrete steps just outside the kitchen. They could see Stan through the window, trying to peer out into the darkness. 

The door opened, and a rectangle of light hit the side yard where they stood talking. Both girls squinted. “Hi, Mr. Douglas,” Frankie said, before turning and giving Mac a quick hug. “We leave in two weeks. On our trusty steeds. To make our escape…just focus on that,” she whispered. 

“I’d think you’d have more bounce in your step now that you have your precious bike,” Stan said, as Mac brushed past him and into the kitchen. “And by the way, thanks so much. After a hard day at work, I do like to have my dinner waiting, you know.” 

“So tell your wife.” 

“My wife is working late, so it’s up to you.” Mac barely heard him as he blathered on about how they were a family, and a family is supposed to be a partnership and partners need to do the dance together. When one leads, the other follows and if…

“Are you talking about that stupid dance again?” Mac interrupted, miserable thoughts of Grady scattering.

“Aw, honey, you’re not jealous, are you?” Stan asked. He reached out to stroke her cheek, but Mackenzie’s head snapped back like a rubber band pulled too tight.

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” She said through clenched teeth. “Ever.”

“I just don’t know what your problem is, Mackenzie.”

“You are my problem.”

“And I can be a bigger one, unless you’ve changed your mind about going on this trip of yours?” He folded his arms and turned his back on her. “If you want me to sign those forms, you’d better stop talking trash about the dance. Especially to your sister.”

When Mackenzie didn’t respond her father stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

“Okay, people, quiet down!” Otis yelled, clapping his hands. He wasn’t having much luck getting their attention. The excitement buzzed through the room. “You guys are like mosquitoes at a nudist colony, but we have to get down to business.”

Frankie looked up from the bike mag she and Dante were looking at. “That’s a grim image, O.”

Dante tapped a spread on the latest road gear and said, “Check this out, Frank-a-lah. This is so you. You’d be zinging it in this kit.”