Page 5 of Hearts Don't Lie
There are some things a girl never forgets, and the memory of her last night with Hardin came rocketing back to her as she walked toward Intrepid. She stepped into one of the small parks nestled among Piñon Ridge’s shops, businesses, and restaurants. All alone, Mac placed the piping-hot coffees and her purse next to her as she sat on the concrete skirt of a water fountain in the deep shade of the buildings’ wood-and-brick facades. Bowing forward and placing her elbows on her knees, she cupped her forehead and closed her eyes. Remembering.
Illinois, Early August, Twelve Years Earlier, Mac’s Senior Year…
Sixteen and a year ahead in high school, she eagerly anticipated finishing her senior year early in December and joining her boyfriend at college.
Hardin Ambrose was the love of her life. They had spent every moment they could together since their first date eighteen months earlier, when he wasn’t playing soccer somewhere out of town, training out of the country with premier clubs, or for most of this summer, at college, taking two classes, working out with his team. They made the most of their time together and could not imagine the future without each other.
Her heart was breaking like the widening fissures in the parched Illinois earth. Hardin was leaving for North Carolina the following day, having earned a coveted starting position ahead of the preseason. A well-seasoned traveler, he was flying to school by himself. His parents had already sent his stuff ahead of him.
The pink-and-yellow sky was awash with gauzy clouds as the sun began its slow descent when she set out to meet him at their agreed-upon pickup spot. It was decided that they would meet there after her mother, Alicia, railed on and on about Mac dating a boy two years older than her, warning that things would turn out very badly.
She knew her mom’s story, had heard it her entire life. Pregnant with Mac at fifteen by the son of a wealthy real estate tycoon. He had spurned her, alleging he wasn’t the father, and fed the high school rumor mill that it could have been anyone on his football team. He and Alicia knew it was him, but before she could pursue it, he and his family were in a small-plane crash while vacationing during spring break in the Caribbean. There were no survivors. Alicia was the only parent listed on Mac’s birth certificate.
Alicia had had no backup plan. When she began to show at four months, she ran away from home, working odd jobs as a waitress and maid, struggling as a teen and then as a single mom to keep a roof over their heads and food on their table. She was a yo-yo of emotions, swinging back and forth between indifference for her daughter and animosity that she had to provide for her. Rarely did Alicia express her love for her only child. To add insult to injury, she insisted that Mac call her Alicia. “Mom” simply didn’t fit.
Mac’s relationship with Hardin was a stark reminder of what had happened to Alicia, how she had lost her head and a future of possibilities by allowing her hormones to rule her decision to be with Mac’s father. Hardin’s family enjoyed a stratosphere of wealth similar to what Alicia had tasted close to Mac’s age. Been seduced by. The result was pregnancy.
Even more beautiful than Alicia had been at fifteen, Mac’s exquisiteness was dangerous, a beacon to lusty boys who used sweet words to get what they wanted. And on occasion, after a few glasses of vodka, Alicia lashed out at Mac with fists and vile words; then they kept their distance while her wary daughter healed from the physical bruises. The emotional ones would stay with her forever under the psychological keloids that thickened each time Alicia lost it.
Somehow Mac retained her sunny disposition, optimistic outlook, and perfect GPA, along with a modicum of respect, born of fear, for her mother. Alicia had big plans for her beautiful, smart, and talented daughter who had her choice of full rides to college. Hardin Ambrose was not part of them.
Passionately in love, Mac ignored her mother’s warnings, celebrating her sixteenth birthday and Hardin’s return from three weeks of training in Spain by giving him her virginity. It was the most breathtakingly beautiful experience of her young life.
Alicia was at work grooming dogs when Mac eased out of their mobile home a week later, her cute bought-on-layaway sandals snapping and slipping over the rutted ground as soon as she stepped out of their tiny square of yard. Dust from the narrow dirt path clung to her damp feet before she made it to the tired gravel road. Scents of the park wafted around her—Mr. Rasmussen grilling burgers, the Wilsons’ open garbage, and the permanent odor of mildew.
Her heart was skittering before she even made it to the county road, before she saw his red Jeep idling close to the mobile home park’s entrance, partially hidden by one of the great oaks. Before she saw him and the joy in his aqua-blue eyes.
Hardin jogged around to meet Mac and engulfed her in a huge bear hug, practically squeezing her in half. Two weeks of missing her during mandatory college training and conditioning resonated in his passionate kiss, before he released her and opened the passenger door. He raced back to his, shutting it and then pulling her as close as the bucket seats and stick shift would allow. “I missed you, Mac,” he murmured into her wild auburn hair before inhaling audibly. “Damn. You smell so good.”
He peppered kisses along her temple and over her cheek before capturing her full lips. She returned his kiss, hungrily. Someone laid on a horn behind them and Hardin separated from her, his eyes dancing mischievously. The corner of his mouth quirked up, wet from kissing, his dark hair still spiky and damp from a shower. He waved his hand over his head at the car behind them; then his gaze swept over her exposed, sleek legs. “Time’s a-wastin’. Let’s go.”
Mac wrinkled her nose and smirked. “You smell like bug spray,” she said, buckling up and clasping her hands in her lap because Hardin needed both of his for driving. “Where to?”
“Somewhere we can watch the sunset and enjoy the fireflies.”
“That’s it for our last night?” she asked playfully.
He shook his head and smiled. “Give me more credit. Check the back seat.”
She twisted to look behind her. Several blankets, a picnic basket, tote bag, and a large thermos covered the Jeep’s bench seat, along with the ever-present assortment of soccer balls and a bag that she knew held a pair of cleats, socks, and guards. “A picnic dinner! Perfect!”
“Full moon tonight,” he said softly, his fingers trailing over her smooth thigh—deeply tanned like the rest of her from hours spent lifeguarding—before downshifting and turning left onto another county road.
Understanding his intent, Mac’s heart ricocheted in her chest.
“Repellent and wipes are in the bag by your feet. Get covering. I’d hate for the mosquitoes and other bitey things to feast on your beautiful skin. That’s reserved for me.” He flashed her a disarming smile that zinged to her core.
The young lovers lay on their backs in the clearing, naked and panting heavily, fingers laced, clothing strewn around, observing the thickening clouds over the full moon. Citronella candles inside mason jars flickered around them, adding ambience to the harp strings of moonlight and doing an admirable job of attracting Illinois mosquitoes to their flames instead of Mac and Hardin. The raucous chirping of the crickets diminished as night set in, and the unholy heat dissipated ever so slightly, helped by an occasional gentle breeze.
The night was close, the air pregnant with moisture. Mac sat up and pulled a mass of curls away from her neck and secured it with one of the hair bands that were always present on her wrist.
Hardin caressed her exposed neck with his lips, then asked, “You okay?”
“Yes and no. I don’t want tonight to end.” Mac brushed an errant tear from her eye. The last thing she wanted was to dissolve into an emotional mess tonight of all nights. “I already miss you,” she whispered, turning to him, full of emotion.
“Me too,” he said, reaching for his shorts and digging in the front pocket. He handed her a small, emerald-green velvet bag.
“What’s this? I have nothing for you. I… I…”
