In the evenings, another training session, usually via FaceTime, with a guy called Happy. Grady’s commitment was impressive, and while Quinn tried to stay out of his way, she also didn’t want to be away from him.
She’d turned into that girl. Giddy when her friends mentioned his name. Blushing when his photo lit up her phone screen. Counting the hours until she would see him again.
At the moment, she stood in the window of Forget-Me-Not while he signed autographs and posed for photos across the street at Dandy’s Bakery. To her knowledge, Dandy’s had never hosted an Olympic athlete, or any other celebrity for that matter, and even though Grady had become something of a fixture in their little community, he still brought out quite the crowd.
“Looks like your boyfriend is pretty popular.”
Quinn found Geraldine Byers standing at the center of her shop, mailbag strapped crossways over her shoulder, stack of letters in her hand. Geraldine had been delivering mail to the flower shop for as long as Quinn could remember, and though she was slower than she used to be, the old bird still had a lot of juice left. And she used at least some of that juice for whatever town gossip she could soak up.
“You two set a date yet?”
Quinn could feel her cheeks flush. “We’re just getting to know each other, Gerry.”
The old lady lifted her eyebrows. “Look at him. What do you need to get to know?”
Quinn laughed. “Do you have mail for me?”
“Saw you two all lip-locked at the ball the other night.” This woman always said exactly what she thought. It was terrifying and refreshing at the same time. “Along with half the town.”
“Sorry about that. I guess we got caught up in the moment.”
She grinned as she peered up at Quinn. “You don’t have to apologize to me. There’s nothing like young love. I still remember the day I met my Charlie. That was a fine-looking man.”
Quinn laughed. “I’m sure you were a real catch yourself.”
“Oh, I was.” She chuckled. “Though it’s been a little while since then.”
Quinn watched as she tugged her gray uniform pants up, her ample belly tucked in behind a thick black belt. She handed Quinn the stack of mail and gave her a loose salute. “You take care of yourself—and that good-looking man.”
“Thanks, Gerry.”
Quinn smiled at a customer who passed Gerry on her way out the door. “Let me know if you need any help.”
The woman gave her a nod and Quinn slid behind the counter, a place she couldn’t be without thinking of Grady. His kisses had grown more frequent now, but they weren’t familiar enough for her to stop savoring them.
Actually, she hoped she never stopped savoring them, even when they were familiar.
She flipped through the envelopes Geraldine had just handed her when a logo that read Michigan Floral Expo in pink letters caught her eye. It stung to see the words, a reminder that she’d missed her chance. She still remembered when her mother brought home her first Best Design award all those years ago. She’d been so proud, so excited. It had validated her somehow, given her confidence.
Maybe Quinn craved that validation too.
She tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter inside.
Dear Miss Collins,
We are pleased to inform you that your design, “Secret Garden,” has been accepted to the Michigan Floral Expo this spring. “Secret Garden” will be showcased along with the two other top designs. Please prepare to bring a piece of your display that highlights the overall design for the rest of our judges to see. The attendees always find these displays so inspiring.
On a personal note, I’m thrilled to hear you were able to send in your required documents after all. I apologize for my mistake. It would’ve been a shame if the rest of the world wasn’t able to see your beautiful work. Our president spoke very highly of the entire Harbor Pointe Winter Carnival ball, but especially of your display. Judging this year’s preliminary competition was her last order of business before retiring to Florida with her husband, and she said she was thankful she had the chance to do it one more time.
I look forward to meeting you in person at the Expo, as I’ll be stepping up as the acting president until a new one is voted in this summer. Additional information and details about your display will arrive within the next week.
Don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
Kitty Moore
The paper fluttered from her fingers to the counter, the words barely registering. What was this woman saying? There must be some mistake. Her mother couldn’t have been at the ball—if she was, surely Quinn would’ve known.
Wouldn’t she?
“Miss, could you help me?” The customer from earlier stood on the opposite side of the counter, holding two containers of flowers and a small garden gnome. “Miss?”
Quinn stared at her blankly. It didn’t make sense. She hadn’t included a copy of her business license or tax information—she’d found it on the desk in her office. And to imply that her mother had been here, had seen her designs . . . Kitty Moore must not have all the facts.
Why would they still judge her design if her entry was incomplete?
She picked up the phone and dialed the number on the letterhead, but of course it went to voice mail. Quinn was beginning to wonder if Kitty Moore ever answered her phone.
“Miss, I’m ready to go.” The customer again, this time in a tone that was thinly laced with impatience.
“I’m sorry. Of course.” Quinn rushed through the process of ringing her up, going through none of her usual chitchat. Instead, she said nothing but the woman’s total, made her change, and sent her on her way.
Once she’d gone, Quinn turned the sign in her door over to Closed and shut off the lights. She dialed Kitty’s number one more time, but again, voice mail.
If what the letter said was true, then her mother had been here in Harbor Pointe. She’d been at her event in the midst of her designs.
And she hadn’t even bothered to say hello.
CHAPTER
33
QUINN SAT AS STILL AS A SIGNPOST in the middle of her sofa, the letter from the Expo open on her coffee table. She’d found her way upstairs, where she paced the floor for a solid half hour, trying to piece together how any of this could’ve happened.
She called Carly but hung up before she answered. Carly had enough to deal with. Besides, it was embarrassing to admit that the mother she hadn’t seen in twenty years passed through town without a single word.
Carly would pretend she didn’t care, but somehow Quinn thought even she would be sad if she knew.
The sun had dipped behind the horizon, spilling a haze of gold and orange across the loft. Quinn pulled her legs up underneath her and willed herself not to cry.
She jumped at the sound of a knock on the door. She didn’t want to see anyone—not like this.
“Quinn?”
Grady.
Why would this man—this beautiful, successful man—ever want to be with her when her own mother didn’t even want her?
She padded over to the door and opened it.
He sprang forward at the sight of her. “Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?”
She didn’t want to lie to him. He’d promised to be honest with her, and she should do the same—let him know now what he was getting into.
But the shame of it—it was too much.
“I’m fine. Not sick. Just needed a mental-health afternoon.”
“Can I come in?” He held up two brown paper bags. “I got Chinese. It’s my cheat meal.”
She moved away from the door, allowing him room to pass through.
“You sure you’re okay?”
She closed the door and let out a heavy sigh.
“All right, I know something is wrong.” He set the bags down on the counter and enveloped her in one of those hugs that said It’s okay to cry. So she did. He held her like that, quietly a
llowing her to soak his shirt with her tears. When she finally regained her composure, she pulled from his grasp, swiping her cheeks dry with her sleeves.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m not normally a crier.”
“Now you’re really worrying me.” Grady followed her into the living room and took the armchair next to the couch. “Is it your dad? Jaden?”
“No, everyone’s fine.” She plopped down and picked up the letter. “I got something in the mail today.”
His eyebrows were knit in one straight line, probably not all that different from the one he’d pointed out on her forehead so many times before.
“I’m one of three finalists for the design contest at the Michigan Floral Expo.” Her voice lacked even a trace of enthusiasm. Not the way she’d anticipated sharing this news when she first applied for the competition.
“Quinn, that’s awesome,” he said. “It’s what you wanted.”
Her smile was faint and fleeting.
“Well, you should be a finalist,” he said. “You should win the whole thing.”
“But it says something about me sending in the necessary documents after all,” Quinn said. “Grady, I didn’t send them in.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you did and just didn’t realize it. Maybe they found them later?”
“I didn’t. I found them in my office. They were left out of the envelope.”
He scooted over onto the couch, next to her, and took her hand. “I don’t understand why you’re questioning it. This is a good thing. You’re getting exactly what you wanted.”
“There’s more.” It would be hard to say the words out loud. It shouldn’t be, after all this time, but the news had reopened a wound that had taken years to heal. Or maybe it had never healed in the first place. Maybe it was so fresh and raw it kept her frozen, paralyzed, stuck in one place.
And for what? Why did she put so much effort into seeking out a woman who clearly did not want to be found?
“What is it, Q?”
“The letter says my mother was the judge.”
Grady’s face fell. “What do you mean?”
“My mother was here, Grady. She submitted the score sheet on my design.”
“Oh, Quinn,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head. “No, don’t be. It’s not your fault she didn’t even want to speak to me.” Another traitor of a tear slipped down her cheek.
He stood and rubbed his temples with both hands, letting out a heavy sigh. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Why did she have a feeling things were about to get a whole lot worse?
“We said no secrets, and I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was afraid of this. This exact thing that’s happening now. I thought I could protect you from it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I called the Expo. I talked to someone there who figured out a way to get your entry back in the competition.”
“You did what?” She felt nothing but confusion.
He sat down on the coffee table, knees touching hers. “You gave up so quickly, and I knew your design was going to be good. I just didn’t want you to walk away without fighting for what you wanted. You taught me that, Quinn. You’re the reason I’m still here, fighting.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I know, but they didn’t say they were going to accept the entry. I didn’t find that out until the night of the ball.” His face went white, as if all the blood had been sucked right out of it.
“What do you mean?”
His jaw twitched. He stood.
“Grady, what do you mean you found out the night of the ball?” Her eyes clouded with a fresh veil of tears.
“There was a woman there,” he said. “She spoke to me first. She asked what I thought of the atmosphere. I told her I loved it, especially the flowers. Said I thought you nailed it.” He turned a circle and heaved a sigh. “She guessed that I was the one who’d called.”
“Okay, so, who was she?”
“Your mother.”
“My mother.” The word crossed her lips like a poison. “You spoke to my mother?”
“I didn’t know it was her at first, but she had a copy of that same picture you have hanging in the shop.”
“She what?” She could barely whisper.
He sat back down on the coffee table and took her hands. “I told her she should find you. I told her how amazing you are. I tried to get her to stay, Quinn.”
The realization of it was like a knife to the back. “Even after all that coaxing, she still couldn’t be bothered with me.”
“I don’t think it’s like that. I think she’s full of regret, and she doesn’t know how to make it right.”
“Don’t you dare defend her.” She reeled back and pulled her hands away.
“I’m not defending her,” he said. “I promise. I just recognize that pain.”
“The pain of screwing up so badly there’s no coming back from it?”
“But there is coming back from it. She just can’t see it. Not yet.”
Quinn pushed herself up off the couch and walked toward the kitchen—why, she didn’t know. Distance? Space? Clarity? None of those things came. “She’s had years to see it, Grady. I guess she never will.”
He stood and faced her. “Maybe not, but that’s her loss. I know my conversation with her was brief, but I think she knows what she missed out on.”
Quinn wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could protect her from the grief that overtook her body. She’d been waiting since she was a little girl for the chance to ask her questions. Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong? Why don’t you love me?
And now, after this, it was clear that none of those questions would ever be asked, let alone answered.
“I think you should go.” The words startled her. She hadn’t meant to say them. Grady’s face—solemn and concerned—was enough to break her heart. But in some ways, her heart was already broken, and there was no one to blame for being blindsided like this except him.
“Quinn, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I didn’t want to upset you—I didn’t want you to think this had anything to do with you.” He stood in the kitchen now, too big for the small space, and suddenly she felt like the walls were closing in.
“I need to be alone, Grady, please.” She couldn’t breathe for the pain that had lodged itself in her throat. She pushed past him, back to the living room, feeling like a rat in a cage. There was nowhere to go.
“I can’t leave unless I know you’re okay,” he said. “I won’t.”
She spun around. “I don’t want you here!” The tears came hard and fast, and she was helpless to stop them. She didn’t mean to be vicious, but her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Part of her wanted to sink into his arms, but he’d kept this all from her—something that he knew was more important to her than anything.
How could she ever trust him now?
His eyes—wounded and sorry—held hers for a long moment, and then finally, he shifted his gaze. He crossed the room, placed one tender kiss on the top of her head, then walked out the door, leaving her with nothing but Chinese food and the pieces of her broken heart.
Grady stood in the hallway outside Quinn’s loft for seconds that turned into minutes. The light under her doorway disappeared, but still he stood, trying to think of something—anything—to make this better.
So far, his mind was empty.
There was nothing to say except “I’m sorry.” And while he’d already said it, he wasn’t sure she was in any state to hear it. This thing with her mother, it was brutal, and until she let go of it, it always would be.
But then, who was he to talk? It wasn’t like he had a good relationship with his parents. And he was holding on to plenty of baggage of his own.
He slid to the floor, back pressed against the wall, and sat there for nearly an hour. Why hadn’t he just told her the truth from the start? It would’ve hurt, yes, but at lea
st she’d have him to lean on right now. But maybe she was unwilling to lean. She wouldn’t let him get close again, and he hated that he couldn’t take the pain away. The more time he spent in this town with these people, the more he realized there was only one who could.
He stood. “God, I know I can’t be what she needs right now,” he whispered against her door. “But you can. And I pray you are.”
And with that, he walked away.
CHAPTER
34
THE NEXT DAY, Grady awoke after an impossibly restless night of half sleep. His heart still ached for what Quinn was going through, and regret piled high on top of him.
He was new to this kind of selfless love, and while he wasn’t sure yet if he’d be good at it, he knew he wanted to try—for her. As he checked his phone for a missed call or a text, he wondered if she’d ever forgive him.
He went through the paces of his workout for an hour, probably not as tuned in as he should’ve been this close to his race.
After he got back to the cottage and mixed a protein shake, a knock on his door gave him hope. But when he pulled it open, it was Gus, not Quinn, he found waiting there.
He was dressed in uniform and held his hat in his hands.
“Gus,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment.
“Morning, son,” Gus said. “Can I come in a minute?”
What had Quinn told him? Was he here to remind Grady of his bad choices or warn him to stay away from his daughter?
Grady stepped aside so the other man could enter. “What brings you by so early?” He closed the door.
“I’ve got some news.” Gus’s face lit into a warm smile. “That daughter of mine must really care about you.”
Grady’s skin practically tingled at the thought. Was this actually good news?
Just Let Go Page 29
