by Terry Lee
“The promotion was for getting to Earth,” Ruby explained. “He’s still having trouble with re-entry.”
“Oh.” Quinlan looked around again, now worried.
Ruby shrugged. “Oh well, I’m sure he’ll show up somewhere. He usually does…eventually.”
Quinlan shot Ruby a look, trying to decide if the plus-sized woman was being facetious.
“C’mon. I’ll escort you home,” Ruby said.
“No need,” Quinlan said. “I know the way.”
“Are you kidding?” Ruby pulled back. “Give me that.” She grabbed Quinlan’s bag and started off down Moon Shell Drive.
Falling in step beside Ruby, Quinlan glanced at her surroundings. A new feeling moved through her like a warm breeze. She was back. As she approached Meghan’s house a smile curled around her lips. The flowers she’d planted across the front of the house were in full bloom. She spotted Meghan propped up on the porch swing reading The Guardian.
“See ya.” Ruby handed over Quinlan’s bag and waved to Meghan.
“Don’t you have your things here?” Quinlan asked.
“Nah. I never moved in, just cooked the meals,” Ruby replied, walking away. “I’m off like a dirty shirt.”
“Wait!” Quinlan remembered her last instructions from Angela. She patted her vest pockets and pulled out the blue glittery phone. “Here.”
“Oh yeah.” Ruby retraced her steps. “I’ll get yours back tomorrow.”
“No hurry.” Quinlan smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.” She realized once again how good it felt to be back. “I’ve also got my tack…sparkly glasses to give you.”
“Keep’em. A memento.” Ruby winked and turned back down the street.
Quinlan rolled her eyes. “How special.” She made her way to the porch and plopped her bag down near the swing. “I’m back.”
“I see that,” Meghan said. “I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
“No. I mean, I’m really glad. Ruby’s made chili with oysters, ginger, apricots, corn, chocolate, olives….”
“Olives? Black or green?” Quinlan asked.
Meghan made a face. “I don’t care, I hate olives. Period.”
Quinlan laughed, trying to picture olive chili.
“You think I’m joking?” Meghan rubbed her chest and throat. “I’ve had heartburn ever since you left. And we’re not supposed to even get heartburn!”
“Oh well. I’m back, so no more chili.” Quinlan sat on the swing and rested her head on Meghan’s shoulder. “Hey, I hear there’s a really good rum raisin bread pudding at Angela’s. Can’t wait to try it.”
“You’ll love it.” Meghan gave Quinlan a hug.
~~~
Quinlan busied herself with breakfast the next morning, reveling in her new-found energy. She felt relaxed and refreshed with a clarity of vision she couldn’t quite describe. She looked up when a sleepy-eyed Meghan walked into the kitchen.
“That smells wonderful.” Meghan shuffled across to the coffee pot. “What is it?”
“French toast.” Quinlan placed a small pitcher of maple syrup in a pan of simmering water.
“It doesn’t smell like chili powder…I love it.” Meghan sat at the table and took a sip of coffee. “Hey, this coffee is excellent. What did you do?”
“Just added a little brown sugar and cinnamon sticks to the grounds.”
“It’s fantastic. But don’t tell Ruby. I can see it now.” Meghan shuttered and stuck her finger in her open mouth. “Gag. Cinnamon chili.” She took another sip. “Where’d you learn this anyway?”
Quinlan smiled. “Let’s just say I’m good friends with the owner of a certain café.”
“That’s right.” Meghan’s eyes came fully awake. “Ruby told me you got to meet her.”
“Someone mention my name?” The voice came from the open back door.
The women turned and found Ruby chomping her Juicy Fruit, nose and blue-tinted glasses pressed against the screen door.
“Come on in,” Quinlan said. “We’re just having breakfast. Want to join us?”
“Thanks. Would love to, but can’t stay,” Ruby said, letting herself into the kitchen. “Smells good, though.”
“Coffee’s over there.” Quinlan brought the pitcher of warm syrup to the table.
“Thanks, but no,” Ruby said. “Never touch the stuff. Strictly a milk person, Vitamin D junky. See?” Ruby grinned widely to show her full set of pearly whites. “That’s why I wear the shades. Attracts the rays.”
“Is that what mine did?” Quinlan asked.
“Your glasses?” Ruby thought for a minute. “Nah, yours were…different.” She tapped her shades. “Mine are for, you know, the sun, Vitamin D. That sort of thing.” Ruby took a whiff. “Man that smells good. Meghan says you’re a really good cook.” She edged closer to the table. “Maybe we can swap recipes sometime.”
Meghan choked, coffee spewing from her nostrils like a spray hose. “Excuse me.” She grabbed a napkin, coughed loudly several times and pointed to her coffee mug. “Swallowed wrong.”
The cause of Meghan’s nose mishap swept right over Ruby’s head. “Yeah, I’m trying to get a chili cook-off set up,” Ruby said. “I make a mean pot of chili.”
“So I’ve heard.” Quinlan didn’t dare look at Meghan.
“Been working on my recipes for a while now…got a secret ingredient.” Ruby rocked back and forth on her heels. “Chefs have secret ingredients, you know.”
Meghan sat back down, intently cutting her toast into small pieces.
“Yep. Top secret.” Ruby shoved her hands in her pockets, still rocking. “Big. Huge.”
The only sound in the kitchen came from Juicy Fruit chomps. Quinlan broke the silence. “Oh, tell us Ruby. You know you want to.”
“Well, you could be the competition, but…if you insist.” Ruby panned the kitchen as if to ensure privacy. “But you gotta promise to keep it quiet.”
“Promise,” Quinlan said. Meghan, still focused on her French toast, crossed her heart.
Ruby leaned across the table. “Grape j-e-l-l-y.” She nodded, her mouth set. “Now you know.”
“Excuse me.” Meghan choked out before leaving the table. A sort of gasping, rattling noise came from the living room. Then the bathroom door closed.
“She okay?” Ruby asked.
“I’m sure she’s fine.” Quinlan wondered if Meghan was choking or laughing. She poured the warm syrup over her French toast. “You sure you don’t want some?”
“No, better not.” Ruby headed for the door and stopped. “Almost forgot why I came over.” She groped around in the pockets of her cargo pants and pulled out Quinlan’s old silver cell phone. “Here you go.” Ruby handed it to Quinlan. “You already got a message.”
She took the phone. “Thanks for bringing it over.”
“No problem.” Ruby headed for the door, but stopped. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” Quinlan dabbed her napkin to her lips.
“What’s it like?” she said. “You know. Being there.”
Quinlan leaned back, thinking how she could possibly explain. “It was….” Quinlan searched for the word. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” Ruby scrunched up one side of her face. “Is that good or bad?”
Gracie’s centerpiece and the Stove Top Stuffing popped into her mind. Quinlan narrowed her eyes reflectively. “What I can say is,” she paused, “what I thought was important turned out really wasn’t so important at all.”
Ruby’s eyebrows came together as one. “How can bowling and baseball not be important?”
Quinlan smiled and shrugged. “Just my experience, that’s all.”
“Sounds bor-ing.” Ruby said. “Guess I’ll stick around here for a while. See ya.” The screen door banged behind Ruby.
Meghan stuck her head into the kitchen. “Is she gone?”
“She’s gone.” Quinlan carried dishes to the sink.
“Sorry.” Meghan s
ipped her luke-warm cinnamon coffee. “I couldn’t decide if my French toast was going to stay down or not.”
“What did it? The grape jelly?”
“That woman has a heart of gold, but grape jelly in chili?” Meghan pressed her hand over her heart and shuttered. “All I could see were globs of grape jelly floating around in chili powder and onions. Yuk.” Meghan turned to Quinlan. “Why was she here so early anyway?”
“She brought my phone.” Quinlan raised a finger. “And I already have a message.”
“That didn’t take long,” Meghan said.
Quinlan listened to the message.
“Well?”
“I have a meeting next Wednesday,” Quinlan said.
“With who?”
“Mary, George and Maggie. Mary said to take it easy and enjoy being back for a few days.”
“Sounds good to me.” Meghan wiped her hands on the kitchen dishcloth. “Shall we head to Angela’s for lunch?”
“You read my mind.”
CHAPTER 45
QUINLAN AND MARY
Quinlan made a list of all the places she’d been too preoccupied to visit before her trip back to Earth. She even invited Ruby to join them for a round of miniature golf, followed by three games at the Universal Bowling Lanes.
“Remember, one o’clock Wednesday. Green Room. Angela’s. Got it?” Ruby said, removing her bowling shoes.
“Do I need to bring anything?” Quinlan asked.
Ruby pulled out a small notepad and thumbed through the pages. “Does she need to bring anything?” She scanned her notes. “Ah…nope, don’t think so. Just your cheery self.”
~~~
Late Tuesday afternoon, Quinlan sat in the porch swing, her dangling foot moving the swing back and forth. A sense of peace had settled over her, a feeling she couldn’t remember ever having before.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Meghan pulled a wicker chair close to the swing, a large navel orange in her hand.
“Nothing, really,” Quinlan answered.
“Watching the grass grow?”
“I could, you know.” Quinlan smiled lazily. “Wouldn’t bother me a bit.”
“Nervous about tomorrow?” Meghan peeled the orange and handed Quinlan half.
Pulling a section free, she shrugged. “It’ll be fine, whatever happens.”
“You’re so different now, Quin.”
“I feel different,” Quinlan said.
“Then it was a good trip?”
She took her time with the next orange section as she thought. Ruby had asked the same thing. “I didn’t think so while I was there.” She popped the juicy piece in her mouth. “But now? Yeah, it was good.”
~~~
Wednesday morning Quinlan leaned over the sink and watered her newly planted herb cuttings. Several small clay pots lined the windowsill. She’d been ecstatic the day she visited the Natural World Arboretum and came home with sprigs of sweet basil, lemon thyme and rosemary. After the roots took hold, she’d transfer them to the garden.
Meghan entered the kitchen. “Are you ready for your meeting? Do you want me to go with you?”
“It’ll be fine.” Quinlan glanced at her watch. “But I need to get going. Want to join me later?”
“I’ll be there,” Meghan said.
Quinlan walked into Angela’s and found Ruby standing in front of the Green Room door, her hands folded in front of her. “On duty this afternoon?”
“Nah,” Ruby said. “Just wanted to be here, you being my first assignment and all.”
Quinlan smiled. She had grown quite fond of the gruff chili-cooking-maniac woman. Ruby opened the door, allowing her access. The door closed quietly behind her.
“There you are.” Mary rose from the table. Maggie and George were already seated. All three smiled warmly.
“Come in, come in,” George said. “Have a seat.” He tapped the chair next to him with his cane.
In the past Quinlan would have cringed at the thought of sitting so close to an actual Council member. Today, however, her peaceful state of mind allowed her to accept the offer. She slipped into the chair, noticing a silver laptop and green folder on the table. The walls of the room were colored the faintest hint of green. Lush budding hanging baskets and floor plants accented the décor in assorted shades of greens, pale yellows and whites, painting an ambiance of early spring after a rain shower.
“How are you, luv?” Maggie asked. “You look positively wonderful.”
“I’m well, thank you,” Quinlan said. “And very glad to be back.”
Mary, George & Maggie exchanged looks.
“We’re glad to hear it,” Mary said.
Quinlan folded her hands in her lap, took a long slow breath and waited, not surprised to see her name on the green folder George slid across to Mary.
“I’m surprised it’s not blue.” Quinlan said, feeling playful.
Mary smiled. “We’ll get to that in a moment.” She pulled several sheets of paper from the folder. “I have Angela’s report here.” Mary scanned the pages. “Everything seems to be in order.” She replaced the report and pulled out another sheet. “This, if you remember, is the pre-return form you completed.”
It seemed ages since Quinlan had filled out the forms for her return request.
“You were asked to state your intention for returning to Earth,” Mary said. “Do you remember what you wrote?”
Quinlan stifled a sigh, remembering the words clearly.
Mary handed over the piece of paper. “Would you read aloud what you wrote?”
A half smile touched her lips. Quinlan took the page, but sat it down without so much as a glance. “To save Gracie.”
George rested an elbow on the arm of his chair, his wrinkled chin cupped in the palm of his hand, his gaze direct, but not unkind. Maggie sat on the edge of her seat.
“To save Gracie.” Mary laced her fingers on the table. “And as for your post-return form, what will you write?” She paused for a brief moment. “In other words, what have you learned?”
The words no longer held power over her. Quinlan glanced first to Mary, then Maggie, and finally to George. With a clear and strong voice she said, “It wasn’t my job to save Gracie.”
Maggie leaned back in her chair, obvious relief escaping her lips.
George nodded.
“Would you mind writing that down?” Mary tapped her finger on the form. “Right here. Then sign your name, if you would.”
Quinlan took the paper and wrote the words she had spoken. She handed it back to Mary.
“Sign it!” Mary cleared her throat. “Please.”
She signed the form and mused at Mary’s anxiety…so uncanny for Her Royal Whiteness. “Don’t worry,” Quinlan said, “I think I’ve got it this time.”
“Just a formality.” Mary slipped the form in the folder. “Maggie?”
“Thank you, Mary.” Maggie inched, once again, to the edge of her chair. “Now that you’ve mastered this…situation.” Maggie looked to George and Mary and received nods. “You’ll be able to continue with the—what was that, Mary?”
Flipping through the green folder, Mary read, “A-C-G-I-P.”
Maggie winced. “Yes, well, I’ll translate that back to assist, comfort, guard, intercede and protect.”
“One moment,” Mary interrupted. “There’s a notation here from Angela.” Mary read,
“‘Important to reiterate ‘c’ stands for com-fort. Very important, Angela says here.”
Quinlan shrugged as if not having a clue what Angela referenced.
Mary and George exchanged nods, which implied they did, which made Quinlan a tad uncomfortable.
“Anyway, as I was saying,” Maggie continued, “you can now perform all these tasks without making a return trip.”
Mary took over. “You’ll instinctively know how to use your CI card for assistance without having to acquire clearance. You’ve successfully severed yourself from your Earthly fears, phobias, anxieties and all nega
tivity.” Regaining her regal-ness, she smiled her warm smile. “And this includes your issue with heights. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Quinlan said.
Eyes turned to George, who had said little. He opened the silver laptop and punched keys.
“Gather around, will you?” His gravelly voice boomed around the room.
The three women jumped and quickly moved behind his chair. The streamed video showed Grace in an office signing to a young boy. The nameplate on her desk read:
Grace Brookfield, LMSW
Communities in Schools
“What is this?” Quinlan asked. Only days ago Gracie was going to her Monday-Wednesday classes and volunteering on Thursdays.
“Grace’s probable future,” George said. “It all depends on her personal choices, of course, but my sources say this is accurate. She’ll receive her master’s degree, and her licensure in social work will place her as a much-needed advocate for the deaf community.”
Quinlan’s eyes glistened, her heart filled with admiration and love. “And Hannah and Josh?”
“They’ll have the normal challenges of growing and maturing with a few bumps along the way,” George said. “But you’ll be able to watch the process and assist when need be.”
“What about the little deaf girl?” Quinlan recalled Gracie’s deep concern for the child’s welfare. “What happens to her?”
George hit a function key which produced a text box. He typed C-H-E-R-R-Y. The screen presented a written synopsis of the young girl’s life.
Cherry will be adopted by her foster parents. After her high school
graduation, she will receive a scholarship to Gallaudet University
in Washington, D.C., a university internationally known for specializing
in advanced education for the deaf, hearing-impaired and hearing student.
Cherry and Grace maintain their close relationship. Cherry will forever
consider Grace a pivotal person in not only her personal, but professional life.
Quinlan blinked tears, her heart about to burst. “I can’t…I don’t….” She pulled out a Kleenex and wiped her eyes.
“As I said,” George noted, “this future depends on personal choices.”
