Page 35 of The Facilitator, Part 2

He turned to his father. “Will you give our apologies to Gabriella and Alex, and Vivienne, of course? Let them know I’ll call in the morning.”

“Of course, Son. And I’ll see you tomorrow still?” Mack asked.

Mackenzie nodded; he patted his father on the arm. “Tomorrow,” he said.

He then placed his arm around my shoulder and guided me through the house and out to the valet. We waited until his car was found and, in silence, we drove back to his house.

Mackenzie was still tense when we walked into the house.

He didn’t pause as he slid off his jacket, his bow tie, and dress shirt.

He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks.

He grabbed a bottle of red from the counter and two glasses that he held in one hand.

He then reached out for me. I placed my palm in his and we walked out the back door, and to the beach.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Are you?”

“Have you ever hated so much it’s like acid bubbling in your stomach?” he said.

“No, I’ve disliked, I’ve been disappointed and hugely angry, but I don’t think I can hate. Sometimes, I wished I could. Is that how you feel about Daniel?”

“Yes…no. It’s how I feel about myself when I let every fucking word that leaves his mouth affect me.”

“I…I can understand that, I think. But I wonder if you have so much pent-up grief and anger from childhood that you haven’t dealt with, everything else feels so much worse than it is.”

He didn’t respond to my sentence. “I think I have a love-hate relationship with this town. It’s not because I don’t want to see my dad, it’s because I ran away as soon as I could, and I knew it.

This whole fucking place just fills me with memories I don’t want, yet I’m drawn here.

It’s as if I’m punishing myself over and over, isn’t it? ”

“No, I don’t believe that. I think you are drawn here because you know, deep down, this is the only place you can actually start the healing process.

Back to the scene, the start, the beginning.

That’s what draws you here. And now, Mackenzie, we are starting to make memories here, good ones, funny and sexy ones.

Our memories, combined with the lovely ones you have prior to your mum dying can wipe out the negative. ”

He gulped down his wine, not answering any more.

Without picking up the bottle, and leaving his glass in the sand, he stood.

He beckoned for me to follow. I jogged to keep up as he strode back to the house and up the stairs.

He stood outside a door and I watched him take a deep breath in.

He pushed open the door. The bedroom was dusty, particles had been disturbed when we walked in and floated in the air.

The moon was high and illuminated the room enough for him to walk to a bedside cabinet and switch on a lamp. He stood by the bed.

“This is where she died. I found her. What I didn’t tell you was that I bathed her; I tended to wounds that had started to fester because she hadn’t moved from the bed.

I made sure she had her medication. She had a nurse, of course, but not twenty-four seven.

I’d sit there, in that chair, and I’d read to her.

My father sat downstairs and drowned himself in alcohol. ”

He walked around the room to the window.

“I’d open the window; it was hot and the room was stinking of rotting bodies.

The drapes blew in the sea breeze and she turned her head to look out.

She told me how much she loved the house and I was to only ever remember happy times.

She smiled at me. I was bored, annoyed my friends were out having fun, and I was nursing a parent.

I was doing something no child should ever do, and I started to resent both my mom and dad for that.

I left her, Lauren. She needed me and I left her.

I took a bottle of whiskey and I sat on the beach and got drunk.

The following day, I walked into this room, full of remorse, and she was dead.

She was still looking out that window and when I followed her gaze, Lauren, she would have been watching me get wasted. ”

I walked up behind him. I wrapped my arms around his body, and I held him to me. He bowed his head; he placed his hands over mine.

“I never knew your mum, Mackenzie. I’ve never been a mother, but I honestly believe she would never have held that against you.”

He turned and he wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me and it took me by surprise. He was fierce, grabbing at my dress to raise it up my body. He tried to walk me backwards to the bed, but I locked my knees. I pulled my head away.

“No, Mackenzie, stop,” I said. He was breathless and glassy-eyed. He blinked a few times.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I’m not sure…”

“You don’t get to fuck the anger out of yourself,” I said gently.

He dropped his arms and rested his forehead on mine. I cupped his face and I gently kissed his lips. “Let me take you to bed,” I said.

We walked into our bedroom and I slipped my dress over my head.

I removed my bra and panties and then undid his trousers.

They slid to his ankles and he stepped out of them.

I took his hand and led him to the bed. I pulled back the sheet and he lay on the cool cotton.

I climbed on beside him. I placed my hand on his stomach and rubbed in circles, lower and lower.

I slid my hand over his cock that hardened further at my touch.

I straddled him, positioning his cock at my entrance and although I wasn’t as aroused as he was, as I should have been, I lowered. This was just for him. I rode him gently, making love to him until he finally let those held in tears out. He cried as he came and it was both beautiful and tragic.

Twenty-five years of pain were carried on those tears, and although he fell into sleep immediately afterwards, I didn’t think for one minute that would be the end of his grief.

I lay beside him brushing his hair from his forehead, wiping tears from his cheeks, and kissing his lips softly as he slept. I wasn’t sure of the time when I finally closed my eyes, but I knew the sun was just about to rise.