She Gets That from Me

by Robin Wells

  Zack

  Thursday, July 11

  THE NIGHT BEFORE Margaret is due to come home, Quinn and I are sitting on the porch swing in Quinn’s backyard, watching fireflies, after tucking Lily into bed. The screen door is open so we can hear Lily if she needs us.

  The swing rhythmically creaks, in sync with the thrumming music of cicadas and tree frogs. “You asked me a while ago if I’d put you down as Lily’s guardian in my will if anything happened to me,” Quinn says. “I called my attorney, and he’s done that. I’ll have him send you a copy of the paperwork.”

  My chest feels tight. “Thanks,” I say. “That means a lot.”

  “Well, you mean a lot to Lily.”

  “I’m crazy about her.” I’m crazy about you, too. It would be wrong to say the words, and yet they’re there, burning on my tongue.

  Quinn’s gaze is warm on my face. “I’m really glad Margaret found you.”

  My heart thumps against my rib cage. “Me, too.”

  “Even though it cost you your marriage?”

  “It didn’t,” I say.

  She looks at me quizzically. I want to explain more—to tell her that the marriage was already in trouble, that Jessica and I had never really felt like home to each other—but it’s too soon. I’m still married, and it’s not right to talk about that yet. Besides, there’s something I need to tell her about Jessica that’s been weighing on my mind all evening.

  Quinn changes the subject before I get a chance. “I’m so excited about Margaret coming home tomorrow!”

  “I’m sure she’s excited, too. What can I do to help?”

  “Could you possibly get here around five thirty to watch Lily while I pick up Margaret? She wants to complete her group exercise class before she leaves rehab.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. That way you can let in everyone for the party.”

  “No problem.” The swing creaks. “I’ll have to leave the party a little early, though.”

  “Oh, no! How come?”

  I hesitate, then just blurt it out. “Jessica is coming into town to talk.”

  Quinn looks away, but not before I see the hurt in her eyes.

  “She wanted to meet me for dinner, but I told her you were throwing Margaret a ‘welcome home’ party and I couldn’t make it.”

  Her feet drag the deck, stopping the swing. “You can skip the dinner if you want.” Her voice is soft. “I’m sure Margaret will understand.”

  “No. I don’t want to miss it. That’s why I told Jess we’d talk afterward.” I’m trying to convey that I’m prioritizing spending time with her, Lily, and Margaret over spending time with Jessica, but I don’t think it’s right to flat out say that. I don’t know why Jess is coming to New Orleans or what she wants to talk about. All I know is that I’m dreading it.

  “Okay. Sure. Well, it’s getting late.” Quinn abruptly gets out of the swing, making it sway crookedly. “I’m tired, and tomorrow’s a big day.” She heads for the door.

  I rise from the swing, as well. “I’ll, uh, just go out the back gate.”

  “Okay.” The screen door squeals as she opens it and steps through it. “Good night.” Her voice sounds funny, as though she’s choking back tears.

  I want to say something more, but I don’t know what that would be. “Good night,” I call, but the screen door is banging shut, and the heavy wooden door is closing right behind it. I hear the definitive click of the lock.

  I stand there for a moment, hating that I upset her, hating that I didn’t come up with anything reassuring to say, hating my own ridiculously acute disappointment that she didn’t give me a good night hug.

  But can I blame her? The mention of Jessica was like tossing a cup of cold water on us both.

  Damn it. In the last few weeks, things have shifted between Quinn and me. We’re getting close. There’s a lot between us, and it’s not just because of Lily and the baby. There’s chemistry and emotion and respect and humor and shared interests and a sense of just generally being in sync. It’s physical, it’s emotional, it’s mental, and it’s spiritual.

  And yet, I’m still a married man. I’m in the process of divorce, but I’m not free. I’m in no position to say or do anything yet. It’s too soon. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts, much less these feelings, about Quinn.

  I push through the wooden gate and step out onto the sidewalk. A streetlight on the corner shines brightly, but the night seems a lot darker out here than it did a few minutes ago in Quinn’s backyard.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Margaret

  Friday, July 12

  “TODAY’S THE DAY, Mrs. Moore.” An aide with short auburn hair smiles as she hands me a stack of papers attached to a clipboard. I’m sitting in the chair in my room, opposite the door, wearing pants, a coral top, and a necklace Quinn gave me for my birthday. “You’re finally going home!”

  “Yes,” I say. I smile because she expects it, but inside, I’m full of trepidation.

  It’s not exactly home I’m going to, is it? I’m going to live with Quinn—and, of course, Lily and the new baby, when he or she arrives.

  I’ve come to think of Quinn as family, but still, it’s worrisome. It reminds me of going to live with Mama Betsy, then later with Uncle Ted and Aunt Opal. Why, even moving in with my beloved husband, Henry, had been unnerving at first. There are always doubts and questions. What if we don’t get along? What if they don’t like the way I do things? What if they think I’m in the way? I have no reason to think Quinn will see me as a burden—after all, I’ll be paying my own expenses, I’ve arranged transportation for all of my outpatient therapy sessions, and as I get healthier, I’ll be helping her and a part-time nanny with Lily and the baby—but it’s a concern I have, all the same. No matter how old you get, you never outgrow your childhood issues. I’m eighty years old, and I still worry about being unwanted.

  Ah, well. Moving in with Quinn and Lily is the perfect solution for now. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll move somewhere else. That’s the upside of having some life experience; you know nothing lasts forever. Of course, that’s the downside, too.

  I have to admit, the prospect of making a major change at my age is terrifying. But then, hasn’t change always been scary? Yes, yes, it has. Change is frightening at every age. The fear of the unknown scares us all.

  The antidote to fear, I’ve learned, is faith. I’m so fortunate to have that. Faith lets me trust that God is good and in control, that I’m loved and have love to give, and that even if I make a bad decision or a mistake, it’s never so bad that some good can’t come out of it. I’ve made it through every bad day I’ve had so far, haven’t I?

  Yes. Yes, I have. And I’ve learned that blessings, large and small, are hidden for us in every situation, even the ones that hurt. Every ending is the beginning of something new.

  This whole episode with my heart attack and broken hip is an example. I’ve grown closer to Quinn, Lily has ended up where she belongs, and Zack has become a part of Lily’s life. I’m recovering amazingly well. In fact, I’m something of a miracle, the nurses tell me. The doctor, too; he said he was afraid I was going to have permanent brain damage, and my brain is mostly fine these days.

  Mostly, but not entirely. I’m not as sharp as I once was; my short-term memory has a lot of holes in it. But I’m okay with that; I’ll trade a little short-term memory loss for having gotten a glimpse of the beautiful, peaceful light where my loved ones and love itself await. That little glimpse broadened and brightened my perspective.

  Love is what matters. Love is what lasts. Love is the thing to look for in every situation, because it’s always there. If it’s hard to see, well, it probably just means I need to be the one to offer it first.

  I look through the hospital release papers, pick up the pen attached to the clipboard, and sign my name. I check my watch and realize
that my trepidation has turned into anticipation.

  Quinn will be here soon, and together we’ll start a new beginning.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Quinn

  “SURPRISE!” LILY YELLS as I escort Miss Margaret through the front door of my house.

  Sarah, Mac, Lauren, Annie, Terri, Zack, and Lily are crowded into the foyer, along with Kylie, Annie’s son, and Sarah’s two toddlers.

  “Welcome home!” Annie and Lauren say in unison.

  “Happy homecoming!” Sarah chimes in.

  “Oh, my!” Margaret says, gripping the handles of her walker. “I didn’t expect anything like this!”

  “We’re all so glad that you’re coming home that we wanted to help celebrate,” Sarah says.

  “This is wonderful!” Margaret looks around and beams. “Thank you so much!”

  I’d warned Margaret that Lily and Zack would be waiting at the house to welcome her home, and that Lily had planned a surprise. I figured that an eighty-year-old woman who’d just had a heart attack needed a heads-up. I also knew she’d want to be dressed in something nice and wearing lipstick. I didn’t tell her about the other people, but as we walked up to the front of the house, I’d reminded her, “Brace yourself for Lily’s surprise.”

  “Welcome home, Grams,” Lily says, rushing forward, then stopping a short distance in front of the walker. She’s been taught that she can’t grab and hug her grandmother like she used to, at least until her hip more fully heals, so Lily bobs up and down on her toes and blows kisses with both hands. “Are you surprised?”

  “Very much so.” Margaret’s smile warms my heart. “Let me get seated so I can give you a hug.”

  “Right this way.” The crowd clears as I lead her into the living room to a chair with strong arms. She carefully maneuvers her walker and sits down. Lily runs over and hugs her, then the rest of the group comes by and greets her.

  “I’ll get her bag from the car,” Zack says after giving Margaret a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “He’s so thoughtful!” Annie remarks when she sees him bringing in her suitcase a moment later.

  “Yes.” I try not to actively think about his meeting with Jessica later this evening, although it kept me awake much of last night and has had my stomach in a tangle all day. I put my hand on my just-barely-a-baby bump, smooth the fabric of my navy polka-dot dress, and head into the kitchen to get Margaret a drink.

  Sarah has already beaten me to it. She hands me a glass of sparkling water for myself, as well. “We’ve got dinner ready and everything under control,” she says. “Go sit with Margaret and relax.”

  I do. At length we gather around the table in the dining room, which I’d set last night. I deliberately seat Zack at the far end so I don’t have to make conversation.

  “Oh, everything looks delicious!” Margaret exclaims.

  “Lauren made the salad and fixed the green beans, Sarah baked the lasagna, and Annie prepared the strawberry trifle,” I say.

  “You all have been so good to me,” Margaret says, her eyes full of gratitude.

  “Well, we’re adopting you as our collective grandmother,” Lauren says. “Brooke always talked about how warm and wise you are, and she was right.”

  Margaret’s eyes are moist, but she raises her eyebrows. “Me, wise? Why, you young folks run laps around my tired old brain.”

  Sarah raises her glass. “To you, Margaret. To your loving heart, your wise ways, and your bright spirit.”

  “Hear, hear!” Annie says.

  “Amen,” I say.

  We all clink glasses and drink to Margaret. She beams, then wipes her cheeks with her napkin. It’s a delightful evening, except for the tension I feel around Zack. Don’t let negative interactions with others carry over to your home life, I’d read in one of the parenting books. I determinedly try to put that into practice tonight.

  Lily and the other children eat in the kitchen with Kylie, then go upstairs to play. Everyone lingers at the table, chattering, laughing, and teasing.

  At length, Lily comes downstairs. “Grams, have you seen the bedroom we fixed for you?”

  “Not yet, dear,” Margaret replies.

  “Oh, let’s show her!” Lauren claps her hands. “I can’t wait to see her reaction!”

  I’m suddenly a little nervous. I want so badly for Margaret to like her room and to feel at home. But I don’t want her to feel put on the spot; I want her to feel complete ownership of her space. “Would you rather see it later, when you’re alone?”

  “Why, no, dear,” she says. “I watched a lot of HGTV while I was laid up. Let’s have a big reveal!”

  Everyone laughs and scoots back their chairs.

  “We can bring your furniture from Alexandria and use that, if you prefer,” I tell her as she rises from the chair and grips her walker. “I just pulled a few things I had at the store and in storage that I thought you might like, but nothing has to be permanent.”

  We all head to the bedroom, and Lily opens the door. “Ta-da!” she announces.

  Margaret steps inside and everyone crowds behind her. I’m gratified to hear a little gasp. “Oh, my,” Margaret says.

  “What do you think?” Lauren asks.

  “It’s magnificent,” Margaret proclaims. She moves to the bureau, pushing her walker in front of her, and looks at the photos I’ve placed there. She turns to me, her eyes wide. “How did you get these photos?”

  “I asked your pastor’s wife to send me the pictures in your bedroom, along with some of your clothes and personal items.”

  “How wonderful. How very thoughtful!”

  “Great touch, Quinn,” Annie says.

  Margaret slowly moves around the room, admiring the four-poster bed, the colorful pillows, the cream duvet, the dresser, the bedside tables.

  “It’s just lovely,” Margaret says.

  “Daddy changed out the glass doors to give you priv’cy,” Lily chimes in.

  “Well, isn’t he handier than a pocket on a shirt!”

  Zack laughs. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but I believe that’s a first.” He glances at his watch. “Sorry to leave such fine company, but I have to go.”

  My chest constricts.

  “You can’t go yet!” Lily exclaims. “I need you to tuck me in an’ read me bedtime stories.”

  “I have to meet someone,” he says. “But I bet your grams can help Quinn do it.”

  “But I wanted all three of you!”

  “I don’t think we’d all fit in one bed,” Zack says.

  The group laughs. Lauren comically raises her eyebrows.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” Lily asked.

  “Probably not,” I tell her, before he has a chance to respond.

  “Why not?” Lily frowns.

  “Well, Miss Jessica’s in town,” I say. “And Zack has been spending an awful lot of time over here lately. I’m sure he has other things he needs to do.”

  He shoots me a puzzled look. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  I nod. “Or the day after.”

  “Tomorrow.” His tone is definitive. He thanks everyone for the dinner, bends down and gives Lily a kiss, straightens and pecks Miss Margaret’s cheek, and then turns and gives me hug. Is it more of a hug than usual, or am I imagining things? “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he repeats in my ear. I blink back the tears that suddenly pool in my eyes.

  * * *

  —

  LILY RUNS BACK upstairs to play with the other children.

  “His wife is back?” Annie murmurs to me as she helps carry empty dessert plates from the table into the kitchen.

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes are concerned as she scrapes them over the garbage disposal. “Don’t tell me she’s changed her mind about the divorce!”

  I blow out a sig
h. “I’m not sure what’s going on. Yesterday we were talking, and I told him I was glad Margaret had found him. He said he was, too. I asked, ‘Even if it cost you your marriage?’ and he said, ‘It didn’t.’”

  “That probably just means there were other problems in paradise.” She hands me a scraped plate.

  “That’s what I thought at first, but later, he told me Jessica was coming to town and he had to leave the party early to meet her.”

  “This late?”

  I lift my shoulders. “She wanted to have dinner with him, but he didn’t want to miss this.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “I need to stop looking for good signs.” The plate clatters as I place it in the dishwasher.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, Annie—I’m in over my head with Zack.”

  “That seems pretty natural under the circumstances.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it’s healthy. And I’m completely at odds with myself on this. The commonsense side of me says we’ll be sharing these children for the rest of our lives and they need parents who have a comfortable, friendly, non–emotionally fraught relationship. On the other hand, I’ve already fallen hard, and I’m afraid it’s one-sided.”

  “Not a chance. I saw the way he looked at you at dinner.” She hands me another plate.

  Her words make my heart soar. I try to rein it in. This is exactly the sort of thing you can’t let yourself read things into, I tell myself. “He’s still married, and Jessica came back to talk to him.” I put the plate in the dishwasher.

  “She filed for divorce, Quinn.”

  “People can change their minds. Even if this visit changes nothing and the divorce goes through, I don’t want to be a rebound.”

  She passes me another dish. “He doesn’t seem like the type to do that.”

  “Above all, I don’t want to start something that won’t last. I don’t want Lily or the baby to get hurt.” I put the plate in the dishwasher.

  “I don’t think he does, either, Quinn. He’s a great guy.”