One More Day Read Free Page A

these?" She looked at the myriad of frames.  Large ones, small ones, all scattered across the walls.
    "The other guy hung some of his, but yeah, I think most are mine.  You still want that coffee?"  He gestured to the break in the counter, inviting her to follow.
    Unsure of what else to do, she trailed behind him like a lost puppy.  He led her through a door at the side, and up a long narrow hall to a large open room.  A table was the main feature in it.  Nothing fancy, and it was liberally stained with scuffs of paint and inks, but it looked like heaven to Mackenzie.  The light was good, the table had plenty of elbow room, and there was even a sink.  Ok, and a refrigerator, coffee maker, and other items typically found in a break room, but this break room was designed for an artist.
    "Make yourself at home.  Colby won't be in tonight, so it's just you and I."
    "Colby?"
    "Yeah, he's the other artist.  I mean, tattoo artist," he explained as he set the coffee pot to brew.  She noticed that he'd used a bag of really good quality grounds, not the cheap stuff she was used to.
    She dropped her bag on the table and sank into one of the chairs.  When he was done, he joined her, leaving an empty space between them.  She felt like a bipolar idiot.  She'd walked into the shop crying, but now she was starting to just feel numb again.  Of course, no sooner had that thought crossed her mind before she felt her throat try to pinch off. 
    She sucked in a long breath, telling her body to stop it.  Just one more breath.  Just one more day.  She could do this.
    "So you really like that job or something?" Ryan asked, gently. 
    "No," she admitted.  "I kinda need it though."
    "I know how that is.  What do ya do?  I mean, besides amazing art."
    "It's not that amazing, not compared to yours."
    "You can't compare something I worked on for a year with what you do on your lunch break.  I scraped that canvas so many times, trying to get her just right."
    "Really?"
    He nodded.  "Yeah.  I'm proud of her.  I dunno, I just always see her as this defiant woman, using the most unlikely strength to show the world that not everything is what they expect.  I mean, there she is, all alone, so graceful, performing for a beam of sunlight."
    Yep, that was all it took.  Her eyes started up again, and no matter how many times she blinked or breathed, nothing was going to stop them. 
    "I can't do this," she mumbled.
    Ryan just stood, and slowly walked over.  Without asking, he tugged a chair closer and sat, pulling her head against his shoulder.  "You have someone at home?"
    "No," she muttered through her sniffles.
    "Anyone I can call?"  He gently pressed her head closer to him.
    "No.  My dad's on the road.  He's a trucker."
    "Best friend?  Boyfriend?"
    Mack just laughed.  "No."
    "Then you're stuck with me, Mack.  I got two shoulders, and I have a funny feeling that your job was just the straw on the poor camel."
    She nodded.
    "Want to talk about it?"
    "No," she said as another rush of sobs hit.
    He didn't ask again.  The Super Hot Guy that she'd never met before that day just held her against his shoulder, and let her cry until her eyes simply couldn't cry anymore. 
    Sniffing, she pulled back and rubbed at her face, shame warring with the appreciation she felt.  She wasn't the kind of girl to break down over something silly, but cancer wasn't silly!  She also wasn't about to tell some perfectly good stranger about it.
    Yeah, they'd had coffee at the same time for almost a year, but they hadn't talked.  It's not like they were friends, and it sure wasn't going to be anything else, not with the wonderful first impression she'd just given.  Hell, who was she joking.  Super Hot Guy wouldn't think of her as anything but a hard luck case.  So, he was beautiful and sweet.  That made it even more embarrassing.  She's just smeared mascara all over his shoulder.
    "There's a bathroom around the corner to the right," he said,