I Am Quinn

by McGarvey Black

  When my son had the ball, I’d scream at the top of my lungs to cheer him on. He was fast and agile and knew when to pass and when to take a shot. Whenever he’d get the ball and make it all the way down the field, I’d shout and clap so hard my hands would sting afterwards.

  Halfway through the soccer season, I struck up a few conversations with some of the other moms. That’s where I met the girls; Viv DeMarco, Margot Alexander, Nina Campobasso, and Kelly Bresnahan. They were fun and sassy and didn’t take themselves too seriously.

  ‘Do you like to read?’ Margot asked me one afternoon.

  ‘I never have time,’ I replied.

  ‘How about wine?’ she said. ‘You like wine?’

  ‘Who doesn’t like wine?’ I said, grinning.

  ‘She’s in,’ said Viv to the others.

  ‘My kind of girl,’ said Nina and she invited me to join their monthly book club. The next meeting was being held at Viv’s house. The book for this month had already been selected, Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. I had never read any Jane Austen before and was excited to give it a try and more than that, to have some new friends.

  Four weeks later, I knocked on Viv’s front door with a bottle of chardonnay and a plate full of Muenster cheese, slices of apple, French bread, and some spicy hot mustard. I have always believed everything tastes better with mustard. Viv ushered me into her family room. Her husband, Frank, waved as he and her boys headed down to the basement to watch a game, obviously banished.

  ‘When we have book club at my house, Frank makes himself scarce,’ said Viv, pouring herself and Quinn a glass of wine. ‘As long as I put beer, soda and chips in the basement fridge, they’ll stay down there until I let them out. That way, we ladies have the run of the house.’

  As the other women arrived, each with a dish and bottle in hand, we topped off our wine glasses and got comfortable on Viv’s burgundy leather couches. It soon became evident that these girls knew how to party. A copy of Sense and Sensibility sat in the middle of the dark wood coffee table. The group chatted about the schools, the teachers, the comings and goings of people in town, who was getting divorced and who was cheating on who. After almost an hour, I wondered when we were going to talk about Jane Austen. Finally, Viv demanded our attention.

  ‘Everyone, the Avon Ladies’ Book Club will officially come to order,’ said our host, taking a big gulp of wine.

  ‘What do we do?’ I asked. ‘Does one person lead the discussion about the book?’

  The four women looked at me incredulously.

  ‘We never talk about the book, Quinn,’ said Margot, seemingly stunned.

  ‘You never talk about the book?’ I asked, baffled. Had I misunderstood? I tried again. ‘But this is a book club, right?’

  ‘Yes, it is a book club,’ said Nina jumping in, ‘but we don’t talk about the books.’

  ‘We don’t even read the books,’ said Kelly. ‘We just pick the book that we would read if we were actually going to read a book. Whoever hosts the meeting puts it on the table, and it feels like we read it. Then we drink wine and trash talk about celebrities and people we don’t like in town.’

  I was in heaven. These were my kind of girls. They were fun. They were crazy and irreverent. I had found my clique. I still missed my parents, sisters and friends in New Jersey but now with my new friends, Avon wasn’t so bad.

  For the next ten years until Alec and I split up, I spent many nights out with those girls. Eventually, we moved the ‘book club’ out of our houses and met in pubs and bars instead. We’d go to different places on Wednesday nights. Once in a while, we’d even do a barbecue or dinner party that included our husbands, although we had more fun when the husbands weren’t around. They’d just put on a game and crack open a few beers, so they didn’t have to talk to each other – typical guy social interaction. Alec didn’t like most of their husbands, calling them ‘dumbasses’, his new word. Everyone was now a dumbass. The Avon Ladies became a big part of my life. Alec had the university, and I had the girls. At least I thought I did.

  Chapter 29

  Quinn was only his sister-in-law, but she reminded Mike so much of his wife that she occupied a special place in his heart. Their coloring was different, but you could tell they were sisters. They had the same voice, the same way of walking and they laughed at the same stupid things.

  Mike thought himself lucky to have married a Delaney. Erin was his high school sweetheart, and he grew up with the family. Quinn and Colleen felt like sisters to him.

  The Delaneys were all about big family events and made sure there were always parties and reunions with all the cousins. Erin’s parents organized family trips to Florida and ski trips out West. Usually, Big Ed would pay for everyone, including the grandkids. Those occasional big family trips and Christmas week were when everyone got to see Quinn and Alec and their kids.

  On five separate occasions over eighteen years, Erin and Mike drove up to Avon to visit Quinn and Alec. The first trip, all the kids were young and it was a good visit. They drank lots of beer, stayed up too late and everyone had fun. Alec took some terrific pictures of all the cousins. He was relaxed, and Quinn was happy keeping herself busy with her children, volunteering for school projects and chauffeuring the kids from one activity to another. Alec and Quinn seemed to be in sync then.

  A few years later, the second time Erin and Mike visited them, it wasn’t as good. Alec had just received his doctorate in History and was very puffed up about it. He wouldn’t stop mentioning his new degree and congratulating himself. It started before Erin and Mike even walked through the front door.

  When they pulled up in front of the house, Alec was underneath an old car parked in the driveway. Fixing old cars was his hobby. He’d take them apart, rebuild them and then sell them at a profit. He knew engines inside and out. His grandfather had owned a gas station; that’s where he’d learned everything about cars.

  As Mike got out of his car, Alec got up, wiped his hands on his shirt and gave Erin a hug.

  ‘Good to see you, Alec,’ Mike said, shaking his hand.

  ‘Don’t you mean, good to see you, Doctor,’ Alec said with a sly grin.

  Mike laughed at his joke. ‘That’s right, I heard about the PhD, congratulations, Dr. Alec,’ he said. ‘That’s quite an accomplishment. Good for you.’

  ‘Yeah, congrats,’ said Erin. ‘Quinnie told me about it. She’s so proud of you. You got another degree and a new job at the same time, impressive.’

  ‘It practically killed me,’ Alec said. ‘I was working on my dissertation at UR while teaching at Pondfield College. I was totally pumped when the University of Rochester offered me a teaching job. People kill for those positions. And, I’ll be making about thirty percent more than I am now.’

  Over the next three days, Alec dropped the ‘Dr.’ every ten minutes. He even suggested that they start calling him Doc instead of Alec. He later said he was only joking, but Mike thought he was deadly serious. It was a long weekend, and they were glad when Sunday came around so they could leave.

  On the third visit to Avon, a few years later, Hannah and Jack were in their early teens, as were Mike and Erin’s kids. Things were very different on that trip.

  Alec was insufferable. There wasn’t any subject where he didn’t have the last word. At one point, Mike completely stopped talking while Alec pontificated for an hour on some whacky political theory. Mike let him speak and didn’t say one word. He figured Alec was going to do it anyway, it was less painful for him to keep his mouth shut and allow his mind to wander. Erin spent most of the time out in the backyard with Quinn, giggling and sharing secrets. The sisters hardly ever got to see each other and needed that time together. Unfortunately, that left poor Mike alone with ‘the doctor’.

  On Saturday morning of that weekend, Alec, acting like a big shot, cracked open his first beer at ten thirty in the morning. Mike figured because they were visiting, he’d join him. When in Rome, he thought. A few minutes later, Quinn
and Erin walked into the house and saw their husbands drinking morning beers.

  ‘Whoa,’ Erin said, laughing when she saw Mike with an open bottle. ‘Starting a little early, aren’t we?’

  ‘Alec, we talked about this,’ said Quinn sternly. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘It’s my house, and I’m entertaining my brother-in-law,’ said Alec as he cracked open another beer.

  A scowl crossed Quinn’s face. Mike and Erin surmised that this had come up before.

  ‘I’m only having this one, Quinn,’ Mike said, trying to smooth things over, ‘then I’ll wait until the barbecue tonight.’

  ‘You can have as many beers as you want, Mike,’ Alec said, holding out another bottle. ‘I pay all the bills here. It’s my freaking house.’

  Quinn, visibly upset, turned and went into the kitchen followed by Erin. Mike changed the subject and the rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Still, that was the day Mike and Erin started to wonder about Alec and what was going on between him and Quinn. When Erin and Mike got back to New Jersey, Alec’s behavior was all they talked about for weeks.

  Chapter 30

  After hearing about the infamous Avon Ladies for years, Erin finally met them on their fourth trip up to Avon. She noticed that the ‘ladies’ looked decidedly different from Quinn’s old friends back in New Jersey. Their clothes and jewelry screamed ‘look at me’, and each one needed to lose more than a few pounds. Erin didn’t think her sister belonged with them. Quinn was clearly the jewel in their tin crown.

  Later that night, when she and Mike went to bed, Erin still wanted to talk.

  ‘I’m not a fan of Quinn’s new friends,’ said Erin. ‘They’re rough around the edges and look like they buy their clothes from a QVC sale event.’

  Mike made a cat-claw gesture and meowed at his wife making her laugh.

  ‘You know it’s true,’ she said, giggling and protesting at the same time.

  ‘What does QVC look like?’ Mike asked, clueless.

  ‘Like them,’ Erin said. ‘Quinn’s starting to dress the way they do. Did you see all the cleavage? My mother would die if she saw my sister dressed that way.’

  ‘She looked fine,’ Mike said.

  ‘That’s because she hasn’t done a full QVC yet,’ Erin whispered. ‘Her top was cut too low, her pants were super tight, and then there was all that gaudy jewelry. She never used to wear stuff like that. She used to have style, now she looks cheap.’

  Mike was tired, but he knew his wife wasn’t finished, not even close, so he listened, nodding at appropriate moments acknowledging that Erin wasn’t wholly wrong.

  ‘Your sister was acting like a bit of a party animal,’ he agreed. ‘She never used to be like that.’

  The next morning, Quinn and Erin’s kids left for a day of bowling, pizza, and movies. The two sisters folded towels and sheets outside on the picnic table in the backyard while their husbands sat in lawn chairs drinking coffee and discussing college basketball coaches they didn’t like.

  In the middle of a sentence, Alec pulled off his shirt, walked over to the grass and began doing push-ups in front of his brother-in-law. Erin watched the scene from a distance. As Alec rounded out his twentieth repetition, he lectured Mike on the importance of fitness and outlined his weekly workout schedule. Mike’s eyes met Erin’s with a ‘what a total asshole’ look forcing Erin to stifle a snort.

  For the remainder of the day, the two couples prepared the fixings for that evening’s barbecue. The night’s theme was to be Tex-Mex; margaritas, chips, guacamole, salad, and grilled skirt steak.

  The Avon Ladies and their spouses arrived. The music was turned up, pitchers of margaritas were poured, and the men started getting frisky. When the party was in full swing, Quinn made her grand entrance on the deck. She was heavily made-up and wearing an extremely short skirt, skimpy tank top, and four-inch heels. Her shiny black hair was piled loosely up on top of her head, and sparkly dangling earrings grazed her shoulders.

  Erin nudged her husband in the ribs. ‘Mike, look,’ she whispered. ‘My sister looks like a trash bag.’

  ‘She looks fine,’ he whispered back unconvincingly.

  ‘For a hooker, maybe. Who wears five-inch spiked heels to a barbecue?’

  Alec looked up from the grill and saw his wife on the deck holding court. He smiled, put down his spatula and walked over and put his arm around her shoulders. He gave Quinn a kiss on the cheek and then on the lips, making a grand show of it.

  ‘You look fantastic, honey,’ he shouted while stepping back to admire her. ‘You should dress like this all the time. Right, guys, my wife is hot.’

  Catcalls and whistles erupted from the men in the crowd. Quinn flashed a big smile, picked up a frozen margarita and lit a cigarette. Erin hated when her sister smoked, and it bothered her that Alec didn’t mind.

  Two hours later, with very little coaxing required, Quinn brought out her ukulele and sang as if she were a country and western star. There were occasional gaps of silence when her fingers didn’t move fast enough on chord changes but she laughed charmingly, and the crowd egged her on. While her sister entertained everyone, Erin noticed Alec leave the party with a scowl on his face and go into the house. When Quinn finished, everyone applauded, and she beamed. It was after she put the ukulele away, that Alec came back outside carrying a handle of Dewar’s. He had changed out of his t-shirt and into a sleeveless tee, a wife beater.

  ‘Look at Alec,’ Mike whispered to his wife. ‘He’s so transparent. He wants us to notice his muscles.’

  ‘Why did you change your shirt, hon?’ Quinn asked her husband. ‘Spill something?’

  ‘I was hot,’ Alec said with an edge. ‘Got a problem with that?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Sorry I asked.’

  ‘I’ll wear what I want,’ he hissed, pouring himself a tall glass of scotch. ‘I stay in shape so why shouldn’t I wear this? How much weight have you put on since we got married, Quinn? Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty pounds?’

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘You heard me. You’re not going to look good forever, Quinn. I can’t wait until you get old, then no one will want you.’

  Quinn’s face got red and her eyes flooded with tears. Her sister and brother-in-law were the only ones in the yard close enough to hear the exchange. The other guests were oblivious, too busy downing cocktails and engaging in idiotic conversations to notice. Erin and Mike had heard the whole thing.

  Chapter 31

  Nobody in the family said it aloud, but Hannah and Jack thought their father was a bully. Over at UR, his students, especially the girls, loved him. He was one of the most popular teachers. According to their father, his classes filled up faster than anyone else on the faculty. He was an entirely different guy with his own kids.

  Most of Hannah’s friends had their fathers wrapped around their fingers. Her best friend only had to look at a pair of shoes or a new bag, and her dad would hand over his credit card. Hannah had to work hard for every little thing. Her father called it ‘training for real life’.

  ‘If everything is handed to you on a silver platter, Hannah, what would that teach you?’ he’d say. ‘My job is to shape and guide you. If you want something, you work for it and maybe, you’ll get it.’

  Always the professor first and parent second, Alec Roberts insisted that his daughter and son prove themselves to him for even the most insignificant things. Every statement had to be backed up with facts and examples as if they were doing a term paper for one of his classes. Allowance money or the ice cream he had promised were often denied because they had forgotten one tiny detail and hadn’t earned the prize. Their mother hated when her husband acted like this and secretly provided the extra money or treat when he wasn’t around. It was a secret pact between the three of them.

  At the start of Hannah’s sophomore year of high school, she asked for some new clothes. Like he always did, Alec started hammering his daughter, wanting to know precisely how many skirts, shirts, pan
ts and pairs of shoes she already had in her closet.

  ‘Take inventory of everything, and then present your research,’ said her father. ‘Make your case, and I’ll decide.’

  Hannah did what he asked, but that night he shot her down.

  ‘Hannah,’ he said as he looked over her list, ‘you have eleven skirts, eighteen shirts, nine pairs of pants and twelve pairs of shoes. There are kids in Africa or India who don’t own a single pair of shoes. Did you ever think of that?’

  Here we go, Hannah thought as she rolled her eyes, another lecture from Professor Roberts. Couldn’t he just say yes or no? Every answer always comes with a speech and a life lesson.

  ‘I’m afraid you haven’t proven to me why you need more clothes,’ her father continued.

  After fifteen years of living with Professor Dad, Hannah knew the devil she was dealing with. She was expecting this response, and she was prepared. She put a second document in front of her father that broke down her entire wardrobe by age size, and condition of the garment. Bullet points identified five pairs of shoes that had been re-heeled more than once, with the soles worn through. Also, they all were a half size too small for her growing feet. Every pair of pants was too short, and one had a tear that couldn’t be mended. While Hannah schooled her father in wardrobe details, her mother watched the whole exchange. ‘Good girl,’ Quinn said to herself under her breath.

  ‘So, you see,’ Hannah concluded with fanfare, ‘more than half the things in my closet don’t fit me anymore. I am growing, Dad. That’s what teenagers do.’

  ‘Hannah girl,’ said her father with a smile. ‘Well done. You thoroughly supported your argument. Bravo.’

  Score one for me, Hannah thought as her father handed over a hundred and fifty dollars for new school clothes.

  ‘Make it last, Hannah. Spend wisely,’ he said. ‘Don’t come back asking for more money next month. The bank is closed.’