She Gets That from Me

by Robin Wells

  Quinn’s eyes brim with tears. “No wonder you were so intent on finding Lily’s father.”

  “I know how vulnerable a child can be with no family.”

  Quinn folds her other hand on top of mine. I squeeze it. “I suffered terrible guilt all my life that I hadn’t protected Junie by looking for a blood relative right away. I didn’t want to make the same mistake with Lily.”

  “You had nothing to feel guilty about, Miss Margaret.” Quinn’s voice is full of conviction. “You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. Besides, you were just a child yourself.”

  “I see that now. But for many, many years, I blamed myself.” I look out the window and watch cars drive by on Jefferson Highway. “Shame and guilt sometimes haunt the wrong people.”

  “That’s so true. Especially children.”

  We sit in silence for a moment.

  “Whatever happened to Mr. Earl?” she asks.

  I lift my shoulders. “He left town and never came back. I found out years later that one of the people Mrs. Clemmons called was the police chief. I believe that’s what prompted his sudden departure.”

  “And Mama Betsy?”

  “She moved about a month later. Took all the furniture in the house, which wasn’t hers to take, but I suppose that was a small price for getting her out of our lives. I heard she married a man in Jackson.”

  The door swings open. A fresh-faced nurse’s aide smiles at me. “Mrs. Moore, it’s time for your group exercise class.”

  “Oh, fiddle! I thought I was through for the day.”

  “I promise it’s not too strenuous. Besides, you’ll get to meet some other patients, then you’ll all have dinner together.”

  Quinn kisses my cheek. “Thank you so much for sharing your story.”

  “I never told Brooke about that. Never told her mother, either.”

  “Well, I think you’re heroic and brave and a true inspiration. I’m so glad you told me.” She touches the top of my head for a moment. It feels like a motherly touch—or maybe a blessing. “Good night. I love you!”

  “I love you, too.” We’ve never exchanged those words before, but I mean them with all my heart. I watch Quinn leave, and my gaze lingers on the door after it closes behind her.

  “You’re fortunate to have such a devoted granddaughter,” the aide says.

  I have no intention of correcting her. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, indeed I am.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Zack

  Wednesday, June 12

  WHILE LILY AND Alicia play tag outside, Quinn tells me about her visit with Margaret yesterday afternoon. We’re in the kitchen, watching the girls through the windows and fixing dinner together. The tale makes me freeze in the middle of chopping yellow squash. “No wonder Margaret went on that donor site to find me,” I say.

  Quinn nods. “All those comments about blood relatives make sense now.”

  “Poor Margaret, feeling responsible for her sister’s assault all these years.” I attack the squash as if it’s responsible. “Whatever happened to Junie?”

  “I asked Margaret about her this afternoon.” Quinn slides a baking dish of seasoned chicken pieces into the oven. “She said Junie became an elementary school principal, then died of pneumonia in her late fifties. She never married, never even dated, apparently. Margaret said Junie kind of ‘lost her spark’ after the assault. She didn’t want to do anything but study and work.”

  There ought to be a special place in hell for men like Mr. Earl. I aggressively chop a tomato. “That monster scarred both sisters for life.”

  Quinn somberly nods. “That’s what childhood trauma does.” She gazes out the window at the two little girls laughing and racing around the backyard. “Losing a parent is a trauma, too. That’s why it’s so important to make Lily feel loved and secure.”

  “You’re doing a really good job of that.”

  “You are, too.” She meets my gaze, her eyes soft. “You know, I didn’t want you in the picture at first, but you’ve turned out to be a wonderful addition to our lives.”

  The words mean more to me than she can know. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  The air grows charged as we look at each other. She breaks the spell by turning, opening a cabinet, and taking out a bowl. “We need to talk to Lily about you moving into her old house.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s do that as soon as Alicia leaves.”

  The back door bursts open. Lily and Alicia bound inside, panting like puppies. “We’re dyin’ of thirst! Can we get some water?”

  “Absolutely.” Quinn smiles, opening another cabinet and taking down two glasses.

  * * *

  —

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Alicia’s father pulls into the drive. Quinn waves through the kitchen window as Alicia scrambles into her safety seat and her father buckles her in. “We want to talk to you about something,” Quinn says as Lily comes inside. “Let’s go sit on the sofa for a moment.”

  We traipse to the living room, and Lily plops down between us.

  Quinn draws a deep breath. “You know how your old house is just sitting there empty?”

  “Yeah,” Lily says, her voice downcast. “I hoped Mommy was there, but she isn’t.” She climbs into Quinn’s lap and sucks her thumb. “An’ a whole lot of stuff is gone.”

  Quinn holds her for a moment, just rubbing her back. “That’s because your grams was planning to sell it. Houses are meant to be lived in and cared for.”

  “I don’ like the idea of other people livin’ there.”

  “Well, what if it’s someone you really like?”

  “Like who?”

  “Well, since your daddy is staying in New Orleans instead of moving to Seattle, he needs a new place to live. So what would you think of him moving in there for a while?”

  Lily pulls her thumb out of her mouth, turns her head, and looks at me. I can practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she ponders the idea.

  “I promise I’ll take really good care of it and not scribble on the walls or anything,” I say.

  She giggles.

  “I think it would be nice to have Mr. Zack living so close,” Quinn says. “And I like the idea of him living there instead of strangers.”

  “I like that, too!” Lily scrambles off Quinn’s lap and scampers into mine. “So you’ll be close ’nough you can walk over an’ see us?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you can come tuck me in every night?”

  “Probably not every night, but it’ll be nice to be nearby.”

  “We wanted to make sure you were okay with the idea,” Quinn says.

  “I think it’s fab-oo-lous!” Lily wraps her arms around my neck.

  I hug her back. “You’re the one who’s fabulous.” I glance over at Quinn. “And your mommy Quinn is pretty fabulous, too.”

  Ruffles barks and jumps up on the sofa, not wanting to miss out on the action.

  Lily giggles. “She wants you to say she’s fab-oo-lous, too.”

  I pet the furry creature’s head. “You’re all right for a dog.”

  “No!” Lily laughs. “Fab-oo-lous!”

  “Okay, okay. Every female living in this house is absolutely fabulous.”

  Over Lily’s shoulder, I see Quinn smiling. I give her a thumbs-up, and she returns the gesture.

  I love how she handled the conversation, how gentle yet honest she was with Lily. I already thought she was amazing, but the more I’m around her, the more I find to admire.

  * * *

  —

  ON SATURDAY, I dump yet another bag of topsoil in the just-built raised garden bed, then wipe my brow. It’s hot as blazes. Across from me, Quinn and another volunteer are spreading the soil with rakes. It occurs to me that having a pregnant woma
n out in the summer heat might not have been my brightest idea.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I ask.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You should have stayed home and rested this morning.”

  “I wanted to come. I enjoy gardening, and I love the idea of helping out.” She grins over at Lily, who’s lying on top of a stack of soil bags. “But it looks like somebody else needed extra rest.”

  “I’m not restin’,” Lily says. “I’m huggin’ the Dirt Mother.”

  “Huh?” I say.

  “Mommy said the Dirt Mother grows plants an’ animals an’ people, an’ we need to give her lots of love.”

  “Oh—Mother Earth!” Quinn says with a laugh. “Yes, Lily—that’s absolutely right. Your mommy talked a lot about Mother Earth and how we need to take care of her.”

  “Yeah,” Lily says. “So I was givin’ her a hug.”

  I look at Quinn and we exchange a smile, but my throat grows kind of thick. What a funny, loving, pure-hearted little creature Lily is!

  She stands up, her pigtails bouncing. The front of both her T-shirt and shorts are covered with soil. She tries to dust them off, but her efforts are foiled by the mud-caked garden gloves she’s wearing.

  “Oh, honey, you’re smearing dirt all over your clothes!” says a white-haired volunteer approaching with a flat of seedlings.

  “It’s okay,” Lily says. “These are the get-dirty kind of clothes. Mommy Quinn says clothes can be washed and they shouldn’ get in the way of livin’ life.”

  A male volunteer with a neatly trimmed gray-and-black beard laughs. “I like the way she thinks.”

  “I do, too,” Lily says, her face serious.

  “I do, three,” I chime in.

  Quinn laughs and gives the woman a smile. “All I can say is thank goodness for washable safety seat covers and wet wipes.”

  This is one of the things I really like about Quinn: she finds the sunny side of every situation. Whenever I’m with her, well, I’m always just where I want to be, and whatever we’re doing is just what I want to be doing.

  “I’ll dig the holes, and you can carefully place the little plants in,” Quinn says to Lily.

  “I’ll help you dig,” says the volunteer with the beard.

  My role in this endeavor has been building the beds, hauling supplies, and doing all the heavy lifting, but that part’s nearly finished. “I’ll pull the plants out of the flats,” I say. I carefully remove a pepper seedling, being sure to leave the roots intact.

  “Can I name them?” Lily asks.

  Quinn smiles. “Sure.”

  “Okay.” Lily points to the plant I just removed. “This one’s Petunia.”

  The bearded man laughs. “You’re going to name a pepper plant Petunia? Aren’t you worried it’ll grow flowers instead of peppers?”

  “No.” She gives him a serious look. “It knows what it is. My name is Lily, but I know I’m a little girl.”

  He laughs, then shake his head. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “Where does she even come up with this stuff?” I ask Quinn later, when the planting is finished, Lily has scampered off to play tag with the residents’ children, and we’re gathering up the tools. ‘The plant knows what it is.’ That’s pretty deep!”

  “I think she gets it from you.”

  “Get out!”

  “Did you see the serious expression on her face when she said it?”

  “Like she was giving it a whole lot of thought?”

  Quinn nods. “You get that exact same look sometimes.”

  I pick up a rake, and we head for the car. “Like when?”

  “Well . . . when you were watching the YouTube video on how to change out the doors for Margaret’s bedroom.” She gives me a playful grin. “And when you were trying to decide if you’d have the pineapple or mango snow cone.”

  “Hey, that snow cone decision was momentous.”

  “Did you jus’ say somethin’ ’bout snow cones?” Lily asks, appearing at my elbow. “Are we gonna go get some?”

  Quinn grins at me. “As Margaret would say, ‘Little pitchers have big ears.’”

  “What does that mean?” Lily asks.

  “It’s an old-timey saying,” Quinn replies.

  “It means Mommy Quinn wants to get a pitcher of snow cones,” I say. “And she wants us to pour them in her ear.”

  Quinn gives me a teasing faux slap, and Lily laughs. “You’re silly!”

  The sun filters through the leaves of the oak tree in the front yard, dappling their blond hair with light, and I suddenly realize I’m happy—all in, to-the-bone happy. This child and this woman are giving me something my heart has longed for, something I’ve missed, something I’d hoped to find in my marriage, but never did—the sense of being at home whenever I’m with them, wherever that might be.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Quinn

  Saturday, July 6

  I’M THE LAST one to arrive at the Java Hut for the July meeting of the single parent group. The place looks the same, with the exception of the artwork on the wall. A large new painting hangs over the table where we always gather. It’s titled Love Is a Leap of Faith and features two valentine-like hearts holding hands, legs bent, ready to jump over a chasm. My gaze locks on the chasm, which looks dangerously wide and deep. If those two hearts had a child and an unborn baby relying on them, would they still choose to jump?

  “Sorry I’m late,” I say as I join the group with my glass of iced tea.

  “No worries. We’re just getting started, and Mac is speaking first,” Annie says.

  Everyone looks at him expectantly.

  His face flushes. “Well, Kylie is doing much better. She still refuses to visit her parents in prison, but she’s writing real letters to them and she doesn’t spend every waking moment in her room. And she loves working as a mother’s helper for Sarah.”

  “She’s wonderful with the boys,” Sarah says.

  “She’s got a real knack with kids,” Annie agrees.

  He nods, then sits there silently, as if he has nothing more to say.

  “Don’t you have some personal news to share?” Sarah prompts.

  “Oh!” His ears look like they could burst into flames at any moment. “I’m, uh—well, Sarah and I are . . .” He darts a glance at her, and the redness spreads to his neck. “Well, we’re, um, kind of dating.”

  “Oh, Mac—Sarah—that’s so wonderful!” everyone murmurs. I smile at Sarah; she already told me this during one of our frequent phone calls.

  Mac puts his hand over Sarah’s and gives a bashful grin. “I’ve liked her for a long time, but I was afraid she didn’t feel the same, and I worried I would mess up our friendship.”

  “I kept telling you to ask her out,” Annie says.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t want to ruin things,” Mac says.

  “So how did you two move beyond the Friend Zone?” Lauren asks.

  “I asked him out,” Sarah says. “I actually used the word ‘date.’ He waited so long to answer I was sure he was going to say no.”

  “I was tongue-tied,” he says. “I couldn’t believe such a great woman wanted to go out with an old curmudgeon like me.”

  “You’re not a curmudgeon.” Sarah eyes him fondly. “You’re kind and caring and smart. And you have a highly evolved view of gender roles.”

  “What do your kids think?” Annie asks.

  “The twins are crazy about Mac,” Sarah says.

  “And Kylie adores Sarah,” Mac says. “She wants to be a therapist like her when she grows up.”

  Lauren puts her hand over her heart. “You guys are precious together!”

  Sarah’s face grows pink. “So what’s going on with you, Lauren?”

  She puts her hands on the table and leans forward. “I’m app
lying to be an adoptive parent.”

  Everyone murmurs with excitement.

  “It’s a lengthy process,” Lauren says. “I have to go through a home study and background check.”

  “You’ll breeze through that,” I say.

  “Are you planning to adopt an infant or an older child?” Sarah asks.

  “I’m looking into all the options,” Lauren says. “They warn you up front that it’s not easy, it can take a long time, and you might get your heart broken.”

  “Any child would be fortunate to have you as a mom,” Annie says.

  “Thanks, Annie. I’ve just made the decision, so I have a long way to go.”

  “It’s exciting that you’ve started the process!” Sarah says.

  Lauren nods. “I’ll keep you posted each step of the way.” She turns to Annie. “So what’s going on with you?”

  “Not much. Work. Caring for my boy.” She hesitates. “There’s one thing that’s kind of new, but it probably won’t come to anything. I don’t know if I should even mention it.”

  “You should,” I prompt.

  “Yeah. Tell us!” Lauren urges.

  “Well . . . I’m planning to go to my high school reunion in Mississippi. Did I tell you all that my old high school boyfriend has been texting me and contacting me on Facebook?”

  “You most certainly did not!” I say.

  “We’ve been corresponding for a while,” Annie says. She suddenly looks shy. “He’s been widowed for two years. He doesn’t have any children, but he’d love to.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about him?” Lauren asks.

  “I didn’t want to build it into a big thing if it wasn’t. But now . . .”

  “Now you’re going to see him at the reunion,” Sarah says.

  “Yes. So we’ll see.”

  “That’s awesome!” Lauren says.

  Annie smiles. “It adds a little extra zing to life. But if it doesn’t work out, life is still good.”