“Like a sixteen-year-old groupie? Yeah, I saw. Guess he was pretty shocked.”
“That was more than shock.” Cooper nudged her with his elbow. “At least we don’t have to worry about them pretending to be a couple.”
“Because they know each other?”
He laughed. “You really are blind when it comes to guys, aren’t you?”
Quinn stopped, peaches rolling in the basket. “Excuse me?”
“C’mon, QT. We can’t go anywhere without guys hitting on you, and you don’t even notice.”
When she tilted her head in rebuttal, he cocked his right back. “The waiter at Watersview, Mr. Peaches at the market just now.”
She waved him off. “Southern guys can’t help being friendly. It’s in their DNA.” She headed toward the backyard again. “Just because you enjoy leading girls on, doesn’t mean every guy on the planet does.”
He drew her to a stop by the hand. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
Gaze averted, she sighed. Did they have to have this conversation now? Here? “You are the way you are, Cooper. I knew that coming into this. I shouldn’t have turned it into a big deal.”
“The way I am.” His jaw ticked in and out. “Well, I guess it’s good everyone’s assumptions are right, isn’t it?” He strode past her.
“Cooper, I didn’t mean . . .”
Mama met them both around the corner of the house. She spread her arms out, smile equally as wide. “How’s my favorite couple doing?”
“Fine,” they both blurted out gruffly. So much for acting.
Her face scrunched. “Who peed in your cornflakes this morning?”
“Mama!”
She raised her palms and redirected her attention to Brayden. “Well, now, I hope my favorite munchkin is doing a little better than these two grumps.” She scooped Brayden into a grandmotherly hug.
“Nanna.”
She squealed with delight. “Ha. See that? He remembers me.” She wiggled a finger in his belly. “What a smart boy you are. I bet you know what’s going on between these two, don’t you? You just tell Nanna all about it.”
“Mama, really?”
“Oh, all right.” She perched Brayden on her side and flashed a smile brimming with southern hospitality. “Cooper, honey, can I get you some sweet tea?”
“That’d be perfect, ma’am. Let me help you with the drinks.”
She fanned her face. “You keep up that charm, young man, and you’ll be needing to fetch me a pail of ice instead of a drink.”
Oh, dear Lord. Eyes shut, Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. A little tug to the basket in her other hand drew her eyes open again.
Mama’s peek inside turned into a quizzical stare. “Well, dang, sweetheart, did you bring the peaches and forget the cobbler?”
“Fruit has plenty of sugar by itself. It won’t hurt us to eat them plain every now and then.”
“Plain?” She spat out the word as if it were foreign.
Chase and Livy strolled up behind them. “I always wondered if you were adopted.”
“Funny.” Quinn shoved him, egging on his already-obnoxious laugh.
While he introduced Livy, Quinn aired out her dress. “Mama, don’t you think we might want to eat dinner inside tonight? It’s hotter than blue blazes out here.” She almost tried to retract the random country phrase but didn’t bother. No point in fighting a dying battle.
“A cookout inside? Honestly, sugar, you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Just peachy.
“We can bring out the sprinklers.” Chase lounged an arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “I’m sure Mom can find something for you to wear.”
“You so want to die, don’t you?” she whispered at him.
Still laughing, he held out an arm to Livy and tipped his head at Quinn. “We’re gonna go check in on Dad. You coming?”
Quinn trained her focus on the basket of peaches. “In a bit,” she finally said. After seeing him laid up in the hospital, she wasn’t quite ready for the emotions seeing him back home would stir.
As Chase and Livy moseyed over to the barn, Cooper motioned Mama toward the house. “Guess we should get those drinks.”
“Make sure a few are spiked,” Quinn said under her breath once they were out of earshot.
Mama reluctantly passed Brayden off to Aunt Loraine’s hungry hands before disappearing inside, and Quinn simply shook her head. At least Brayden didn’t have to question whether he was loved.
A few minutes after she reached the picnic table, Ginny meandered over and picked up one of the peaches.
Quinn smiled at her. “Cooper was right. You got some color the other day on the lake.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
She knew that tone. “Clay wasn’t impressed, huh?”
“I don’t know.” Ginny shrugged. “He’s cool one day, and then it’s like I don’t exist the next. Boys are so hard to read.”
“Tell me about it,” Quinn mumbled.
“Whatever. I’m over it.” She dropped the peach back into the basket. “Besides, I’m gonna have the coolest band in North Carolina at my party, right? I mean, they’re too old for me, obviously. But one of them might have a younger brother.”
“Oh, hon, about that.” Quinn traced her nail along the patterned tablecloth, stalling for the right way to say it. “I’m really sorry, but we can’t afford that band. With it being last minute, too, it’s just not going to work this time. But we’ll figure something out,” she added quickly. “It’ll be—”
“Lame.” Ginny tucked one arm into the other across her chest. “Driveshaft was going to make the party. Now, what am I supposed to tell my friends?”
“We’ll make it just as fun without them. I promise, all your friends will have a great time.”
“Yeah, whatever.” She sulked toward her mom, probably to fill her in on how much Quinn had let her down.
“Anyone else I can upset today?” she said to the empty table. “I’m batting a thousand here.” She bit into a peach while plopping onto the picnic bench.
The back screen door squeaked open. “Quinn Mary Beth, look what I found,” Mama said like she was standing at the end of a rainbow.
Midway into another bite, Quinn froze. No telling what she’d see when she turned around. Repressed laughter from the barn steered her gaze toward Chase instead. Great, like she wasn’t worried enough already. He pulled off a straight face and feigned a shrug like it was no big deal. Yeah, right.
Slowly, Quinn inched around on the bench. Her peach dropped into the dirt. “Oh my word.”
Cooper came down the steps behind Mama. Carrying his drink, he seemed oblivious to the faded yellow bikini she was dangling in the air.
She stretched the bottoms between two fingers and stared like it was some mystifying contraption. “I think I might be able to fit this thing over one thigh, if I had my Spanks on.”
Cooper looked from Quinn’s mortified face to Mama, who’d switched to analyzing the bikini top next.
“Now, this I’d have no problem filling. You sure you used to wear this, sugar?”
When Quinn begged the ground to open up and swallow her whole, Mama shot her an understanding look. “Don’t you worry yourself, dear. I bet I have some extra stuffing in my sewing kit. We’ll make it work.”
If the blood weren’t already draining from her face, she would’ve blushed. A mounting geyser rocketed her up from her seat instead. “What are you doing going through my old stuff?”
“No need to get your knickers all in a knot. You were the one complaining about how hot it is. And it’s not like everyone here hasn’t seen you in a bathing suit before. Except maybe this boy of yours, and I’m sure he won’t mind,” she added with a wink.
Shoot me now.
Quinn stormed over and swiped the ancient bikini from her. “He’s not a boy, Mama. He’s a grown man who’s probably dated swimsuit models. He doesn’t need to see some dry rotted suit on a girl who
can’t even fill it out.”
In case her mom’s blank stare didn’t tell her what was coming, the added pinch to her arm left little doubt. Without a word, she dragged Quinn inside, down the hall, and into her old bedroom. She plopped her down at the paint-chipped vanity and stood behind her like she’d done a thousand times while Quinn was growing up.
“Mama, I’m too old for this.”
“You’re never too old for the truth.” She motioned to the mirror. “Go on, now, before I have to tan your hide.”
Sighing, Quinn faced her reflection and began the words of affirmation Mama had ingrained in her since she was old enough to remember. “I’m not only loved, I’m cherished. I’m unique, made with a purpose only I can fulfill. Equipped with hands to accomplish it, gifted with a voice to share it, and strengthened with courage to live it. This—”
“Is my story,” Mama joined in at the end as she always did.
She gave Quinn’s shoulders a good squeeze. “I better never hear you saying nothing different neither. None of this, ‘I’m not good enough’ nonsense. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She’d spent most of her life wanting to live up to those words. To make both her parents proud. But at the rate things were going with this feature, she might lose her chance of advancing—maybe even lose her job altogether—and then what? Without being able to give them the family they wanted for her, becoming executive editor was her last shot.
Mama gave a firm nod. “Okay, then. Now that that’s settled, your boy’s awaiting.”
Quinn set her hand over her mom’s before she could walk away. “Wait. There’s something I need to tell you.” Since she was on a roll today, she might as well keep it going.
Staring at her lap, she toyed with her sundress’s rope belt. “Cooper’s not my boy. He’s not my anything. That day at the parlor, he was just trying to make me feel less like a loser in front of Brian and Cindy Mae. Then you and Aunt Loraine showed up, and it kind of got out of hand.” She lifted her eyes to her mom’s in the mirror. “I’m sorry for letting you think we were a real couple.”
“Don’t be silly, sugar. That young man’s more real than all your book boyfriends, now isn’t he?”
Quinn’s hands fell to her lap. “You knew about that?”
“Don’t look at me like I’m as lost as last year’s Easter egg. Of course I knew. I told you I may be old, but I’m not blind. What I don’t know is why you felt like you had to tell your Daddy and me you were dating someone all those years when you weren’t.”
“C’mon, Mama. You know neither one of you will rest until you get me hitched.” She rose and ambled over to the tie on her bedpost. “I guess I thought it’d be easier than seeing you both so disappointed. I thought maybe Dad would finally . . .”
“Oh, sweetie, come here.” She drew Quinn into a hug. “You’ve been away from home too long if you think your dad and I could be anything but proud of our little girl.”
She might change her mind when the rest of the truth came out about what she was really doing back in Littleton. Everyone would. Especially Cooper.
Chapter Twenty
Unspoken
Cooper took one look at the basket of peaches on the table and scoured the yard for a safer bet. He strolled up to Quinn’s grandpa, who seemed to be manning an empty grill. “How we doing today?”
“Less drafty.” Her grandpa whacked him in the chest with the back of his hand and motioned to his zipper, which Cooper ardently avoided veering his focus to at all costs. “Eh? You remember?”
“Sure do.” Unfortunately. He took a swig of his sweet tea and stared aimlessly until his line of sight grazed across something stuck in her grandpa’s overgrown mustache. Cooper rubbed his chin. “You, uh, have a little something . . .”
He followed Cooper’s finger toward a crumb caught in his ’stache. He plucked it out, sniffed it, and popped it in his mouth. “Paula’s fried okra. The best you’ll ever have.”
“Uh-huh.” Cooper took another sip of tea and eyed her grandpa’s grease-covered fingers. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll remember to avoid that dish at dinner.” No doubt, he’d blame the raccoons again for rummaging through the food while no one was looking.
Her grandpa smiled widely, clearly missing the joke along with a handful of teeth.
“I should probably go check on Brayden.” Cooper clapped him on the shoulder. “Good talking with ya.”
Halfway across the yard to the picnic table, Cooper peered behind him toward the sound of her grandpa’s delayed reaction.
“Avoid that dish,” he mimicked through a raspy laugh. “You’re a fast one, son.”
Not fast enough, or he wouldn’t be left speechless half the time he was around Quinn. Though, maybe it was better that way. Less chance of digging his hole any deeper.
When he caught Brayden stretching out his arms toward him, his chest constricted without warning.
“Nothing beats a boy loving his daddy,” Loraine said as Brayden wiggled from her arms into Cooper’s.
He latched on to the rim of Cooper’s hat and smiled like he was in the safest place in the world.
Seeing his own eyes looking back at him was hard enough. Seeing Brayden trust him, even love him? It was too much, too raw. His throat tensed until the grip matched the unrelenting grasp Brayden had on his hat.
Ginny sauntered by the table. Brayden took one look at her long brown hair and reached for her instead.
“Oh, I see how it is.” Laughing, Cooper held him out for Quinn’s cousin. “Only loved till someone who smells better comes along.”
“A boy after your own heart, huh?” Loraine dished a knowing grin at him while Ginny and Brayden made their way toward the sprinkler.
Cooper stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “Meaning?” Like he had to ask. He already knew what most people thought of him and his perceived lifestyle.
“Even out in the country, people hear things, darlin’.”
His jaw ticked. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She dragged the basket of peaches across the table and brought one to her nose. “I prefer to believe what I see.”
“And what’s that?”
“A guy lucky to have found a girl to change his mind.”
Cooper pulled his hands free and leaned one on the table. Why he was following this loaded conversation, he had no idea, but the responses came out on their own. “Change his mind about what?”
Loraine rose and patted the top of his hand. “Everything.”
Before Cooper’s defiant jaw could draw him farther down this dead-end road, Nurse Murphy sailed around the corner of the house with a stack of foil-wrapped trays.
“Let me help you with those.” He took the top two and set them on the table.
“Thanks.” She wiped her brow with her sleeve.
“You all right, dear?” Loraine asked.
“Fine. Long day is all.”
“Your mama?”
Head down, Nurse Murphy re-secured the foil that’d come loose on a corner of one of the dishes. “The hurtful words . . . I know it’s not really her saying them, but sometimes . . .” She swallowed.
A crash from inside the house whipped all their attention toward the kitchen window. “Loraine? I could use a hand,” Mrs. Thompson called through the screen.
Loraine brandished a teasing expression toward them. “She’d never survive without me.” She squeezed Nurse Murphy’s arm and smiled warmly before trekking off to the kitchen toward whatever catastrophe there was to clean up after.
Nurse Murphy set a thatched bag on the bench and withdrew a group of serving utensils. “My mom has Alzheimer’s,” she said in response to Cooper’s unspoken question.
“I’m so sorry.” He cast a glance behind him toward the barn. “It must be hard coming here to work with Mr. Thompson too.”
“Actually, it helps.” She laid a wooden serving spoon across each of the covered trays.
“This family gives me a lot of strength. All the families I work with do. It’s one of the reasons I switched from Cardiac Care to Geriatrics.”
Cooper picked up his glass of tea. “To better help your mom?”
“In a way.” She leaned against the table edge. “When I was in nursing school, I fell in love with this one blog. I don’t know, maybe I just needed some distraction from all the pressure of school, but it became a little safe haven for me. A reminder of what was important.”
Staring off into the field opposite them, she must’ve been peering into memories vivid enough to relive. “Every week, the author shared a recipe along with the funniest family stories.” She laughed. “I don’t know who they were, but I tell ya what. They sounded almost as entertaining as this bunch. The blog even had ‘crazy’ in the title.”
Cooper cut a glance at her, perception zeroing in on that last part. She didn’t mean . . .
Her amusement gave way to a sense of gravity, reverence. “But no matter how crazy things got, they always came back to each other. They never lost sight of the importance of taking care of family, you know? Of nurturing those bonds, no matter how much circumstances strain them sometimes.” She straightened. “I realized that was something worth dedicating my life to.”
“Sounds like that author made a real impact on you.”
Her eyes warmed as she turned toward the table and tapped the dish closest to her. “Taught me a few good recipes too.”
“I’m sure she did.” Cooper couldn’t help grinning.
“It’s too bad she stayed anonymous. It would’ve been nice to tell her the difference she made.”
The back screen door squeaked open from across the yard. Quinn shuffled down the steps, carrying a small ceramic bowl. She stopped at the sight of him taking her in but then continued slow strides toward them.
Cooper looked at Nurse Murphy. “Maybe you’ll still get the chance to thank her one day.”
“I hope so.” After greeting Quinn, she gestured toward the house. “I better go see if your mom needs any more help.”
“Enter at your own risk,” Quinn called after her.
Left alone, a round of uncomfortable silence settled between them.
Just Maybe (Home In You Book 3) Page 17
