Monday, May 7, 2007

Mac was just about to knock on the door of the Neptune Grand penthouse, when her cell phone rang. Her hands already full, she fumbled with her laptop bag and wedged the accordion file under her chin, squirming to dig the phone out of her jeans. Trying to get her balance, she leaned against the penthouse door, steadying herself.

"Ha, got it," she said aloud, her phone in hand. That's exactly when the door opened, sending her falling backwards, and her documents scattering.

She shrieked on the descent, but didn't hit the floor as she expected. She assumed she was caught by Logan, her business partner, friend, and ex-boyfriend of more than one of her best girlfriends. But instead, she looked up into the hazy blue eyes of Dick Casablancas.

"Aw… are you falling for me, Mackenzie?" he snickered, obviously pleased with himself. He helped her back upright.

"Apparently," she groaned. "Thanks for the save," she added.

At least he still has quick reflexes, even drunk, she thought. She knelt down, picking her papers up off the floor and felt Dick's eyes on her.

"While you're down there…" he suggested, grinning wickedly.

"Gross, Dick," she said, an automated response to most things he says to her. "Where's Logan?"

"Not here," he shrugged. He retrieved his beer from the table and took a swig.

She remembered her phone was the cause of all the commotion. "Missed call Logan Echolls." There was a voicemail.

"Hey, Mac, I'm running late, but I should be there in about thirty minutes. I got stuck in another stupid trust fund meeting with the lawyers. They said it was only going to take an hour, and here I am three hours later, just leaving. I'm pretty sure they're draining my trust with their jacked up attorney fees. Anyway. I wanted to give you the head's up, since Dick's there, and you know how he's been lately, so, if you want to hang down at the restaurant, feel free to charge it to the penthouse. See you soon."

Oh sure. Now he calls.

Resigned to her fate, she asked, "So, how's it going, Dick?"

"Just bitchin. I'm catching up on my drinking," he belched, for effect. "Way behind for the day. And you?"

"Just enjoying some down time since the semester ended. Logan and I are going to be working on the website, but he's apparently running a little late…"

"Need me to entertain you?" He belched again.

She looked at him with disdain. "Not particularly."

"Something to drink then?"

"Sure, why not."

He grabbed her a beer from the fridge, twisted off the cap and handed her the bottle. It was barely noon, but she took a swig anyway. She wondered how long he'd been awake, and how many he'd already had. Enough to smell like beer, even stronger than his overpriced cologne. Enough for his eyes to be dulled. She can't remember the last time his eyes were clear of the haze of alcohol. Before Cassidy, she thinks.

She sat down on the couch, unpacked her laptop and reorganized her papers. Dick plopped down on the couch beside her and picked up the Xbox controller; Halo 2 was paused on the screen. She looked down at the papers and grunted.

"Give me that," she demanded, grabbing the controller from him. He picked up the second controller and she unpaused the game and joined in. Neither spoke, just gamed.

Forty-five minutes later, her cell phone rang again. She paused the game, and Dick got up to bring them "round three" of beer (her "round three" at least; his "round," however, was still unknown).

"Mac," she heard, as she answered. "I am so sorry. My piece of shit car got a flat and stupidly, I don't have a spare. I'm waiting for tow truck."

Your "piece of shit" car is worth more than I'll ever make in a year. "Dude, that sucks. Do you need me to come get you?" she asked, continuing to play, the phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder. "It's no trouble."

"No, it's fine, I just feel bad making you wait around. You want to reschedule?"

"I don't have anything else going on today, I'm fine to wait. Just warming your couch, playing Halo. I'll see you whenever you get back."

"Cool. See you soon."

She took a swig from the fresh beer, and continued playing.

"I'm bored." Dick sighed, as his AI bites the dust. "I've found every Easter egg. I've killed everything possible. I need a new game."

"Hey, don't despair, Halo 3 comes out in September."

He grunted. "Too long to wait. Can't you hack a copy now?"

"Yeah, I could, there's a final testing copy out there, but I won't."

He whined.

"What? It'll take the suspense out of it. I want to wait," she explained.

"I hate waiting. I spend my whole life waiting for something good to happen. I'm just bored," he sighed, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

She finished the third beer. "How can you possibly be bored? You have unlimited funds, the resources to do whatever you want to do, go wherever you want to go. If you're bored, it's because you're waiting for something to happen instead of making it happen."

He rolled his eyes, "I'm trying to make something happen. I'm trying to make you get me a copy of Halo 3."

"Not what I meant. Seriously, Dick, you could pretty much do anything or have anything. You should figure it out. Figure out what you want."

His brow furrowed, he frowned. "You think I need to be more… what? Proactively engaged in the present?"

Slightly surprised by a sudden sophistication of language, she smiled. "That's quite a mouthful, but yeah, actually, you should…"

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pressed his lips to hers. Shocked, he'd already managed to push his beer-flavored tongue into her mouth before she recovered enough to shove him, hard, away from her and off the couch.

"What the hell, Dick?!" she shouted. "I have a goddamn boyfriend, you asshole!"

He blinked at her, his gaze foggy. That's when she realized he was even more drunk than she'd originally thought.

"Sorry, just seizing the moment," he mumbled, sat back on the couch and picked the controller back up as though nothing happened. "You gonna play, or what?"

She grunted and pressed a button on the controller. Asshole.

Logan finally arrived an hour later, to Mac on her fifth beer, and Dick on an undetermined number of beers. Dick gave Logan a dark look and slammed the door of his bedroom behind him.

"What's his problem?" Logan asked Mac, retrieving a bottle of water for her from the fridge.

She just shrugged with resignation. She chugged the bottle of water. Two more beers and a bottle of water, and she could still taste him. She doesn't get it, Dick's fascination with her. From the torment in high school when she dated his brother, to the cold, empty stares he gave her at Cassidy's funeral, to the cruel remarks dismissing her relationship with Cassidy as illusory, to the desperate attention-seeking he'd been engaging in lately. Yet, she continues to bear it. She's not sure why. She should just refuse to be around him, just tell Logan to keep him the hell away from her. She could strike out at him to hurt him as badly as he'd hurt her on several occasions; she knows she could. But she doesn't have the energy or the desire. She knows he's suffering. It's like kicking a growling, snapping dog whose leg is caught in a trap. So, she bears it. Part of her penance of having loved Dick's disturbed younger brother.

"He's having an off day," she stated, as though that explained everything.

Logan merely nodded.

They got to work, and quickly ran through all of the changes to the website, the updates to the business plan, and the strategy for ad revenue. Two hours' later, Mac packed up her belongings and exited the penthouse.

She was waiting for the elevator when she heard the penthouse door open and close.

"Mac," he said.

She turned around to look at him. He didn't come any closer, and she waited for him to speak.

"I – I'm sorry," he said, his eyes full of pain, bloodshot from alcohol, lack of sleep, and obvious crying.

She looked at him; really looked at him. It suddenly struck her that he looked like a 19 year old kid and a man, old and worn, at the same time. It wasn't just that he was starting to show damage from his hard drinking, although that was part of it. He just looked tired, as though he hadn't slept since…

She sighed. She knew the feeling.

"Dick… it's time for you to get better," she said gently, and stepped into the elevator. As the doors closed, she wondered to what next stage of his grief she would be subjected.

"I should've just stayed in Neptune anyway," Parker complained. "It's torture."

"Yeah, well, I'd happily trade places with you," Mac grumbled, balancing her phone against her shoulder as she dissembled her laptop to replace a burned out drive.

"Everything okay?"

"Stupid computer. This isn't a great day. I spent the afternoon drinking and gaming with Dick, and the asshole tried to kiss me again. I'm trying to be supportive, for Cassidy's sake, for my sake, I guess, but I don't want his tongue anywhere near me."

"Fair enough. You would probably catch herpes, like, the second his mouth touched yours."

Mac shuddered. She needed some Listerine, immediately. Maybe some Acyclovir.

"Everything okay with you? Family torture aside?" Mac asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Still emotional when I think about what happened with Logan, but I'm getting better. I'm coming to terms with reality, that it's my own fault. I should have known he wasn't over Veronica, and I should have kept it casual. You don't move on from a broken heart that quickly," her voice shaking.

Mac sighed. That's for sure.

Parker cleared her voice. "But I'm not really mad, at him or at Veronica, not anymore. They have history and baggage, and I should have stayed clear. Life lesson."

She thought Parker was more trying to convince herself than Mac.

"Yeah, life lesson," Mac agreed. She just wished lessons weren't often so devastating.