Sherryl Woods - Beach Lane

“How soon?” he asked Don. “Will they keep me on through football season?”

“Nope. End of the week. The publisher thinks keeping people around once they’re fired is bad for morale.”

Or maybe he was just afraid that if the body count became obvious, the remaining employees would cut and run. That’s what a few had done immediately after the last round of cutbacks.

Mack wasn’t sure he had the stomach for finishing out the week, much less football season, anyway. “How about I write a couple of columns from home this week?” he suggested. “Wrap things up from there?”

Don looked torn. “You want to just slip away? People are gonna be real unhappy about that. You should at least stick around long enough for the kind of blowout party you deserve down at Callahan’s.”

“No, thanks,” Mack said, shuddering at the thought. Being fired sucked, no matter the reason. He didn’t want to wallow in the humiliation in front of his colleagues. He didn’t much want to commiserate with them, either.

“Okay, then, whatever works for you,” Don agreed with obvious reluctance.

Unfortunately, what worked for Mack was keeping a job he loved in a business that was disappearing practically overnight.

At home that night, as the news really sank in, along with all of the financial implications for the short term, Mack stared morosely at the black velvet box sitting on his coffee table.

He’d finally decided to take a huge leap of faith and ask Susie O’Brien to marry him, even though she’d always said she’d rather eat dirt than even go out on a date with a promiscuous player like him. He’d figured several years of dating without acknowledging it ought to just about equal officially courting her for a few months.

Maybe she’d overlook the fact that they’d shared only one memorable, bone-melting kiss in all that time. He doubted she’d forgotten it. He certainly hadn’t. The heat and sweetness of it were burned into his memory. He’d never anticipated falling in love, much less with a vulnerable bundle of contradictions like Susie, but it had happened. It had caught him completely off guard.

Now, however, with his financial prospects in doubt, proposing was out of the question. He couldn’t even think about marrying anyone until he figured out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. And right this second, with a couple of glasses of scotch dulling the pain of his firing, he didn’t even want to cross paths with Susie, who’d been telling him for weeks now that he was in a dying profession. Not that he’d ever contradicted her—how could he?—but he wasn’t quite ready for an I told you so.

When his phone rang repeatedly that night, he ignored it. When his cell phone rang off and on the next day, he ignored that, too. Messages were accumulating on both lines, but he wasn’t interested. Normally an upbeat, positive guy, he was in an unparalleled funk. He figured he was entitled to wallow there for a few days at least.

Unfortunately, his friends Will Lincoln and Jake Collins had other ideas. After one day of not joining them for their regular lunch at Sally’s, they were banging on his door. Since each of them had a key for emergencies, Mack wasn’t surprised when they barged right in two seconds after knocking. Both of them stopped and stared at the mostly empty bottle of scotch and the box of half-eaten pizza, then took in his disheveled appearance.

“What the devil happened to you?” Will demanded. “You’re not answering your phone. You didn’t show up for lunch. You didn’t call. And, sorry to say, you look like hell.”

“Actually you look worse,” Jake added, regarding him speculatively. “When was the last time you shaved? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking less than immaculate. Did you and Susie have a fight?”

“Susie and I don’t fight,” Mack said wearily. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“Then explain,” Will said, sitting down and regarding him patiently.

Mack knew that as a shrink, Will was perfectly capable of sitting there exactly like that for the rest of the evening, waiting him out. “Lost my job,” he said eventually. “I’m not taking it well.”

Neither of his friends reacted with shock, which proved that they, too, had seen the handwriting on the wall.

“Why would you be expected to take it well?” Jake asked. “Nobody likes being fired. I’m really sorry, man.”

Mack sighed at the sympathy. It was exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid, but now that he couldn’t, it felt good knowing that his friends were in his corner.

“I loved that stupid job,” he told them mournfully. “I was good at it.”

“And you’ll find one that’s even better,” Will said. “Like you said, you’re good.”

“Newspapers are a dying breed,” Mack lamented, taking another sip of scotch. “If I stay in the business, I’ll just be prolonging the inevitable.”

“Now, that’s a cheery attitude,” Jake said, this time without a hint of sympathy. Taking his cue from Will, he’d apparently gone into booster mode, as well. “Can I tag along on your first job interview?”

“Bite me,” Mack retorted, smiling despite his sour mood.

“You have any more of that scotch?” Will asked.

“Why?”

“If you’re going to sit here and get drunk, we’re not going to let you do it alone,” Will insisted. He found two glasses, then poured the drinks.

Jake took a sip and grimaced. “I hate this stuff. Tastes like medicine. Do you have any beer?”

“Of course,” Mack said. “Why do I suddenly feel as if I should be playing host? I’m supposed to be sulking.”

“Was the sulking helping?” Will asked.

Mack shrugged. “Not that much.”

“Then leave it to us to cheer you up,” Will said. “Or would you rather we call Susie? I’m sure she’d be happy to come over if she knew what was going on.”

“Absolutely not,” Mack said at once. “I don’t want her to know about this.”

Both men regarded him incredulously.

“That’s crazy,” Jake said. “You can’t keep a secret like this, not in Chesapeake Shores.”

“I want to have something new lined up before I see her,” Mack insisted. “I will not have her pitying me or hovering over me. Besides, she’s been predicting something like this for a long time now and, in her own less than subtle way, trying to get me to plan for it. I’m not up for the gloating.”

“Gloating?” Will shook his head. “Do you really think that would be Susie’s response?”

“Probably not, but even gloating would be better than pity.”

“Has it occurred to you that Susie has a pretty level head on her shoulders? She could help,” Jake said. “I think she’d want to.”

“No,” Mack said flatly.

“How are you planning to avoid her?” Will asked reasonably. “You two have practically been joined at the hip for a very long time. If you check your messages, I’m quite sure you’ll find that several of them are from her. I’m sure she’s already worried. She’s called both Jake and me to see if we know what’s going on.”

“You could let her know I’m okay,” Mack suggested. “Tell her I had to go out of town or something.”

Jake immediately shook his head. “I don’t think so, pal. The way I hear it, Mick is inviting you to the family Thanksgiving next week. Turn him down at your peril.”

“Why?” Mack asked, feeling panicked by the thought of his news coming out amid all those well-meaning O’Briens. “I mean, why me? Why this year? I’ve never been invited before.”

“Bree’s theory is that Mick’s decided it’s time for you and Susie to get off the dime and move this relationship forward,” Jake said, obviously quoting his wife. “Bree thought Mick ought to wait for Jeff to do it, but you know how Mick loves trumping his brother on anything. Sadly, you also know what Mick’s like when he starts matchmaking. His tactics have as much finesse as a bulldozer.”