“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “Take your time.”
He met her eyes. “You’re just so good, Quinn. Why are you wasting your time with someone as screwed up as me?”
She moved onto the sofa next to him, still clasping his hands in her own. “I happen to think there is a lot of good in you, Grady Benson. More than you know.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know the whole story.”
“Tell me.”
Grady didn’t want to come clean or recount the story or allow his past to shape what she thought of him today. Sure, she knew a lot of the mistakes he’d made, but not this—nobody knew this one.
And yet he trusted her. She deserved the truth more than he deserved the comfort of his silence.
He drew in a deep, shaky breath, wishing he had his usual liquid courage.
She squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Grady. Whatever it is.”
But it didn’t feel okay. And it wasn’t okay to his father. And it would never be okay for Benji. But Grady had been held captive by his guilt for too long. “I was fourteen. Benji was sixteen. We discovered skiing when we were really young. Our dad took us, and I guess he thought we had potential. That or he forced us to be good at it. Either way, by the time we hit that age, I thought I knew everything.” He picked up the mug of coffee and took a sip.
“Benji was a lot more cautious than I was. And a lot more talented. I think part of that ticked me off. Even then, I wanted to be the best. We were out skiing one night, and there was a section of our woods that hadn’t been cleared. Trail skiing wasn’t something Benji ever did, but I loved it, and I knew I could beat him if I could get him to race me.”
He’d never told this story. Not to a single living soul. Regret squeezed the back of his throat, willing him to keep the words buried where they’d been living all these years.
He found her eyes, and something in them told him it was okay to go on.
“It was a stupid bet, really,” Grady said. “But he took it and we shot through the woods like we knew where we were going. The snow was deep. Deep enough to hide stumps and rocks and the roots of some of the bigger trees.”
He could still feel the wind on his face as they whipped down the slope. The cleared trail was only a few yards away, but they stayed on the rough terrain—Grady in front and Benji not far behind.
“Come on, Bro, is that all you’ve got?” Grady egged Benji on, daring his brother to try to catch him, knowing there was no way he would. Not today. He led them through the trees and around the curve, and that’s when Benji took off to the left in an effort to cut Grady off. Grady sliced left too, securing his lead as they both jumped, air between their skis and the ground.
Grady’s voice shook. “I landed hard but upright. But Benji . . .”
Quinn’s hand found his again.
Grady swiped his free hand across his face. “I thought he was still behind me.” His eyes clouded over and he stared down, latching on to the way her hand looked on his. “The jump wasn’t even high—and Benji was a trick skier. He’d jumped a lot higher and farther and faster so many times before, but because the snow was so deep, he didn’t see the huge tree stump. Landed right on it. Severed his spinal cord.”
Grady took another drink, an attempt to regain his composure, but the memory was too great. He’d taken his skis off and ran up the side of the hill. Benji lay there, writhing in pain.
“I can’t move, Gray,” he’d said. “I can’t feel my legs.”
Grady still sometimes heard the sound of Benji’s wailing on the nights he couldn’t sleep.
“I raced back down the hill to find help. They had to airlift him out. My dad took one look at me and knew it’d been my idea—my fault—and now Benji was never gonna walk again.” He rubbed his temples, willing the dull ache to go away.
“He’d pinned all of his hopes and dreams on Benji, and with one stupid decision, I stole them.” Grady studied the ceiling. “I don’t think my father has ever forgiven me.” The look on his dad’s face told him as much. From that day on, the disappointment was always there, looming somewhere in the background, even when Grady won a big race or had a major breakthrough on the slopes. It had never been enough. It would never be enough. Because it was all supposed to have been Benji, and because of Grady, it never would be.
“Oh, Grady,” Quinn whispered.
Another swipe across his traitorous eyes. “Thing is, Benji has never blamed me. He let me off the hook the very next day, right after he found out he was never going to ski again. ‘It was my choice to follow you out there,’ he told me. ‘I did this to myself.’”
Finally, Grady met Quinn’s eyes. “But it was my fault. It was my stupid idea, and I knew we weren’t supposed to ski back there. And Benji—he was good. They were talking Olympics for him when he was only fifteen. It was all he ever wanted. All my dad ever wanted.”
His eyes found the ceiling again. “So I promised him I’d bring home the gold. For both of us.”
“That’s why you won’t retire,” she said, her voice quiet.
He nodded slowly. “I can’t quit yet. I’ve still got stuff to do. For Benji.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Grady, it was an accident. And you were just a kid.”
“I was old enough to know better.” How could she not see that? He stood and walked to the other side of the room. “Besides, you can’t tell me you’ve just let go of everything that happened with your mom.”
“I’m working on that.” Her voice was quiet, and he could see the hurt behind her eyes. He cautioned himself not to wound her, not to mess this up the way he messed up every other good thing in his life.
“But you can’t just snap your fingers and make it go away. You of all people should understand that.”
She stood and faced him. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what, Quinn? What do you want me to do?”
“It’s been how many years? Isn’t it time to forgive yourself?”
He faced her. “I don’t deserve to just go on with my life like everything is fine.”
Her eyes locked on to his. “You don’t deserve to be happy? Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
Something like realization washed over her face. “It all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why you sabotage yourself. Why you pick fights with people and rebel against your coaches.” She studied him. “You don’t think you deserve the good things in your life.”
“That’s just stupid,” he said.
“Then why haven’t you forgiven yourself?” Her eyes pleaded with him.
“Some things aren’t forgivable. Your mom leaving—that’s unforgivable. Me causing my brother’s accident—that’s unforgivable.”
She stilled. “I don’t think so, Grady.”
“Well, you’re wrong.” He turned a circle, raking his hand through his hair. “Just go.”
“What?” He could hear the confusion in her voice.
“I just need some time.”
“You’re going to push me away too,” she said.
“Come on, Quinn,” he said. “We both knew this was never going to work.”
“How can you say that?” Tears shone in her eyes now, and he could see the wound he’d inflicted. But it was for the best. She deserved someone better—someone as good as she was.
“I want to be alone.” His voice was tense and louder than he’d meant it to be.
And the next thing he heard was the sound of the door closing behind her.
CHAPTER
39
IT NEVER WOULD’VE WORKED OUT ANYWAY. That’s what she told herself. Quinn went straight back to Michigan the day after Grady’s race, and she hadn’t heard from him since. It had been weeks.
The Olympics were just around the corner, and he’d officially made the team. He was back in the news, and she was trying not to pay attention. So far, her avoidance was working. She didn’t know where
exactly he was, just that he was off training and probably falling in love with a female skier or at least someone who didn’t look like the Michelin Man out on the slopes.
She’d settled back into her regular Harbor Pointe routine—breakfast at Hazel’s with Hailey and Lucy; Sunday brunch at her dad’s house with Carly, Jaden, and the whole crew. But at night, when she was faced with the silence and darkness, her thoughts always turned to him.
For the most part, her friends and family had accepted her vague explanation that things “didn’t work out” with Grady. Maybe they assumed she’d talk about it when she was ready.
Would she ever be ready?
She tried to busy herself with Expo preparations. Her mini display would be up on that stage, and even though her mother was apparently living her new life in Florida, Quinn still wanted to take first.
But not for Jacie Whitman—for herself. Because she’d seen what it looked like to be the best at something, thanks to Grady, and she wanted a sliver of that for herself.
She hoped that wasn’t prideful.
Jaden was healing well, up and moving around with the help of crutches—and while he wouldn’t be skiing anytime soon, he’d made his physical therapy a priority to ensure he’d be back out there this time next year.
Quinn had to admit, she’d expected Grady to leave Harbor Pointe and forget all about them, but according to Carly, he was still in touch with her nephew, and his calls always seemed to brighten Jaden’s mood. His calls and the pretty, dark-haired girl who came over every day to help catch him up on the schoolwork he’d missed—she certainly seemed to lift his spirits too.
Now, Quinn stood on the porch of Carly’s bungalow, praying that her visit with Jaden didn’t turn into a recap of Grady’s latest and greatest. She didn’t think she could handle it.
She knocked on the door, then let herself in. “Hello?”
“In here, Aunt Quinn.”
She followed Jaden’s voice into the living room, where she found him sprawled out on the sofa watching the all-too-familiar sports channel.
“Mom’s not home from work yet,” Jaden said.
She sat on the chair next to him. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel good. Did you see they’re interviewing Grady this afternoon after his training?” Jaden’s eyes brightened. “Man, I wish I could’ve taken him up on his offer.”
“What offer?”
“Tickets to the Winter Games. Didn’t he tell you?”
She shook her head. “Why would he offer us tickets?”
Jaden shrugged. “Because he’s not close with most of his family. Who else does he have to celebrate with him?”
He made Grady sound so lonely. Was he? Her heart ached at the thought. She shoved it aside.
“Stupid leg,” Jaden said. “Once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I’m stuck on the couch.”
“Sorry, kid,” Quinn said, hoping her voice sounded lighter than she felt.
“You haven’t talked to him, have you?” Jaden asked.
“Um, no.” Quinn smoothed her skirt, then let her hands rest on her knees. “Wait, how do you know that?”
“He called last night. Asked about you.” Jaden’s eyes darted to hers. “Why don’t you just talk to the guy?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
No. She was absolutely not going to get into any of this with her fifteen-year-old nephew.
“Never mind. I overheard Mom and Grandpa talking. I know everything.”
She shot him a look.
“They thought I was asleep,” Jaden said. “You’re being too hard on him.”
“There’s a lot more to it than that, Jaden, and leaving things the way we did wasn’t my decision.” Quinn inched back in the chair.
“He told me that too,” Jaden said.
“Good grief, is there anything he didn’t tell you?” Grady’s relationship with her nephew had only grown since the accident. Jaden looked up to him, like he was a big brother. That would’ve bothered her a few weeks ago, but now it only made her miss him more.
Jaden inched up on his elbows. “Aunt Quinn, he’s crazy about you. He screwed up and he knows it. Give him another chance.”
The words needled at her heart, trying to worm their way in, but she shut them out. No. She wouldn’t allow this crazy cocktail of emotions to intoxicate her again. She’d made up her mind. She was better off on her own.
“Oh, look, there he is.” Jaden pointed the remote at the television and turned up the volume. “They’ve really been talking him up. Saying he might win the whole thing.”
Really? What was he feeling right now? He must be elated. “Quite the turnaround from what they were saying before.”
“Yeah. He’s out there proving them all wrong.”
Grady shot down the mountain and came to a slick stop as two men approached him. He took off his goggles, and there was that smile. Those eyes. He looked genuinely happy. See? They were both better off alone.
Except she wasn’t sitting here smiling. She was suffering, at least on the inside. She wanted to hear how his training was going. She wanted to know how it felt to prove to everyone that he was still as good as ever—maybe even better. She wanted to be in on the details of his life.
But she couldn’t. Her time was spent working on her Floral Expo display and trying to forget the way she’d felt when she was with him.
The screen filled up with the image of Grady’s face. He looked tan, eyes bright. He looked good. Really good.
Grady leaned in as he listened to the reporter, a pretty woman wearing a magenta ski cap. “There is a lot of talk surrounding this year’s games, and most of the chatter is about you. How does that make you feel?”
Grady flashed that charming smile of his. “You know, Kat, I feel great. I’m glad people are talking about my skiing and not my stupid mistakes anymore.”
Kat laughed. “There has been a lot of discussion about the new and improved Grady Benson, and I have to say, you do seem like a different skier out there. Do you feel different?”
He looked up, then back at the woman interviewing him. “I do. I feel strong and focused.”
“And Brian Murphy, head coach of the US ski team, has taken note. He told us yesterday that of everyone competing, he’s most excited about you. He said he’s seen great changes in your attitude and work ethic ever since you returned from your not-so-self-imposed sabbatical.” She stuck the microphone back in Grady’s face.
The back door opened and Carly called out, “I’m home!”
“We’re in here, Ma,” Jaden hollered.
On the screen, Grady laughed, that smile doing its very best to weaken Quinn’s defenses. “Well, yeah, Brian and I had our differences in the past, but I came out here ready to get humble and learn what I can from that man. He’s a genius, and I was foolish not to see it before. He’s the reason I’m here.”
Carly appeared in the doorway. “Whoa. What’s going on in here?”
Both Jaden and Quinn hissed, “Shhh.”
“So what is it that’s different about you, Grady?” Kat asked. “What can we attribute these remarkable changes to?”
He pulled his gloves off and looked at the camera for the first time since the interview started. “Well, you know, things weren’t really going my way for a while, but I met somebody who taught me the value of hard work and faith. She taught me that sometimes your dream is worth fighting for. I guess I want to make her proud, and I want her to know I’m not done fighting.”
“Will she be here cheering you on?”
Grady’s eyes glassed over. “Now, that would be a dream come true.”
“She’s one lucky girl, Grady. We wish you the best of luck this weekend.”
“Thanks, Kat.”
She droned on about something, but Quinn had stopped listening.
“You don’t think he was talking about . . .”
“Yeah,” Jaden said. “He was talking about you.”
�
�You think so?”
Carly had sat in the chair across from Quinn. “Yeah, which makes me wonder why you’re still refusing to contact him.”
She didn’t respond.
Carly groaned. “You’re so stubborn!”
“It’s not being stubborn. He really hurt me.” Saying the words aloud brought that dreaded lump back to her throat.
“Did you hear what he just said?” Carly asked. “Whatever happened before doesn’t matter.”
But it did matter. He was doing well, and she was happy for him—so happy—but that didn’t mean she was supposed to be at his side.
Quinn swiped a tear as it trickled down her cheek. “There’s really nothing for me to do, you guys. He made it clear that he didn’t think we were a good fit. End of story.” She stood. “I have to go.”
“Quinn, wait.” Carly put a hand on her arm, but she pulled away and kept walking. She’d had her chance with the Olympian.
And it wasn’t meant to be.
CHAPTER
40
THE DAY OF THE FLORAL EXPO DESIGN COMPETITION, Quinn awoke in an unfamiliar hotel room across from the convention center in Grand Rapids. While she knew she wouldn’t see her mother that day, she had to believe that somewhere, Jacie Whitman was keeping tabs on this competition. And while once upon a time that would’ve made her nervous, now it didn’t seem to matter all that much.
When she’d let it go, she’d felt something lift—a burden that she’d been carrying around like extra luggage for the whole of her life.
Now she wanted to rise to the top of her field for her own benefit—and for the good of the flower shop.
She’d arrived at the Expo the day before and set up her display, a smaller version of the Secret Garden design that had landed her here in the first place. As she worked with those same flowers, she couldn’t help but think of Grady.
Wild and untamed. If he hadn’t said those words, she might not be sitting here now.
The Olympics were over. She’d avoided the viewing parties at Cedar Grove, much to Carly’s dismay. “You should come,” her sister had said. “It’s really fun.”
Just Let Go Page 33
