The timing is especially lousy, not that there's ever a particularly good time for something like this, because Mackenzie is actually abroad right now. She was down in Boston for a show while Scotland's Tartan Army was swarming the city, hit it off with a kilted fellow whose hair is an even brighter red than hers, and she said that, yeah, she thinks she's Scottish but she's adopted so she's not really in touch with that part of her heritage when asked. Which sounds better than "under this pale exterior, I'm actually a Black woman ten or fifteen years older than I look". He impulsively asks to let him show her Glasgow, she says yes, and Cory's cool with it because, as mentioned, the former Krystle has more than enough experience to deal with anything this guy might pull. It does mean that she's been spending all day trying to pull together a flight back home and dealing with delays that messed with her transfer.
I'm second on his "in case of emergency" call list after Mack, so I left work, rented a car, and drove up as soon as I could. Happily, there's been relatively little bullshit about a Black woman half his age being his girlfriend rather than a caretaker; Southern Maine can be lily-white at times but often pretty live-and-let-live, even if I've been getting some sideways glances.
Thankfully, Cary was awake for a couple hours tonight, and was in pretty good spirits, but tired. I've taken work off through the holiday and I'll probably be sleeping in an uncomfortable chair next to him, waiting for Mack to show up.
It's hitting me kind of hard, harder than I expected. We kept telling ourselves that our thing was kind of casual, friends with benefits and a unique shared experience, and maybe that's why it his so hard, because lovers come and go but people you've shared lives with are incredibly rare. Elaine gets it; she's been texting me for updates ever since I called her.
Anyway, even though the doctors say he's going to be fine, spare Cary a moment if you can.
-Zee
