by Janie Crouch
Family was everything. And he still had that entire part of his life ahead of him.
She was thirty-nine. Kids became less of a viable option for her every day. Even if she was already married and trying to get pregnant, she might be too old.
She wasn’t what Baby needed. Not in the long run. She needed to remember that and start taking steps to ease back from this.
Because even though she and Baby couldn’t be something permanent, she was really starting to hope that maybe Oak Creek could be. That her life wasn’t over because it didn’t include Harvard.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
“You’re going to make a great dad someday. Maybe not as great as you are Uncle Baby, but still a great dad.”
“I hope so. My dad was a wonderful example, although he died before I went to high school. Did you get along well with your dad?”
“Yes. Both Riley and I loved him very much. He was serious but loving in his own way.”
They turned off toward the restaurant.
“Are you really going to help the kids play football?” she asked.
“Yeah, this is a good game for them to learn. The whole Linear Tactical gang is there. Everybody is so full and half-drunk from Thanksgria, that nobody plays very seriously anyway.”
“Thanksgria?”
He grinned. “That’s what we call it, since the meal always includes sangria.”
Another family tradition. This one by his full extended Linear Tactical family.
“The kids are smart to come to you with the request. They know if they can get you on board, you’ll be able to convince the others. You would make a great teacher.”
He gave a bark of laughter. “I would be a terrible teacher.”
“I don’t think so. The way you’re able to influence people and explain things to them in ways they can understand? You tend to do it successfully with both children and adults, so you could teach young or old if you wanted.”
“Too much paperwork involved in teaching. I’ll stick with the garage.”
“What part about mechanics’ work do you like best?”
“The diagnostic part. Figuring out what’s wrong and then how to fix it most efficiently. It’s very logical and consistent, almost scientific.”
“Did you do all those mechanical drawings I saw in your apartment? Do you like to design things?”
She thought they were just interesting pieces of art until she’d seen one laid out on the desk in his guest bedroom. She realized he’d drawn those different plans—some buildings, some machines.
“Yeah, I like to understand how things work. I’m actually pretty good at it.”
She wasn’t surprised. “Did you ever want to be an architect?”
“No, that’s too distant from the project itself. That’s why I decided to major in mechanical engineering. It involves design and the actual building. I love to figure out ultimate functionality. I wish—”
He broke off.
“Wish what?” Damn it, they were already pulling into the parking lot, but she didn’t want to stop this conversation.
There is something important going on here, something she didn’t understand fully, but she knew it was key to Baby. He almost never talked about his dreams and future plans in detail. He liked to tell stories and entertain, but he rarely offered true insight into himself like this.
But when she stopped the car, he stopped the conversation. “Nothing. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”
She wanted to push it, but he was out the door a second later before walking around to open hers.
The restaurant was an American bistro, with all sorts of fusion dishes—different combinations not normally paired. Definitely unusual for Wyoming, although they’d had a couple of places like this in Cambridge. It was crowded, and they had to wait a few minutes for a table. When they finally sat down, they were both definitely hungry.
“Okay, let’s do our usual thing,” she said.
Baby raised an eyebrow. “We have a usual thing for this restaurant? I’m pretty sure I’ve never been here before.”
“I’ve got to go to the restroom. You know how you always order for me whenever we go out to eat in Oak Creek? I love it. It’s always fun to see what you’ll choose.” She slid off the bench.
His eyes flew up to hers. “But I don’t know the food here. I know everything in Oak Creek.”
“It’ll be a challenge. I’m sure you’ll pick me something yummy.” She smiled brightly at him.
“Right.”
When she came back from the restroom, Baby seemed to be in deep conversation with the waitress.
He shook his head. “Why don’t you pick what you want, so you’re sure to get something edible.”
She slid back into the booth across from him. “You still haven’t decided? You’re normally so quick about it in town.”
He smiled, but it was a little tight. “That’s because I have the menus memorized in town.”
“In my opinion, you can’t go wrong with anything on the Asian/Irish fusion page,” the waitress said.
Quinn opened to that page. “Irish/Asian fusion? I cannot even imagine that. You guys need pictures on your menu.”
“For real,” Baby muttered.
She read through it quickly. “I’ll try the fried rice with lamb.”
Baby looked relieved. “Maybe I’ll get the same thing. I’m feeling a little adventurous myself.”
Quinn laughed. “You can’t! What if I don’t like it? How am I going to talk you into letting me trade meals with you?”
“That’s true.” Baby opened the menu and pointed at something, showing it to the waitress. “I’ll take this.”
“Our bacon cheeseburger?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Quinn didn’t say anything, but she was a little disappointed he would choose something he could get any day back in Oak Creek when there’d been so many other unique choices. She just smiled at the waitress as the younger woman left.
She was able to get Baby to talk more about the mechanical engineering degree he was working toward, but she could tell he was stiff, like the entire subject made him uncomfortable.
He loosened up a little bit when they started talking about future plans. Evidently, getting his degree would not change his career path. He’d always wanted to work at Oak Creek Garage. It had been his first job when he was fourteen.
“It’s always been important to me to make sure my friends and family are as safe as possible in their vehicles. I like it.”
Then why was he studying at all? “You know you don’t need a degree to do that, right?”
“One would think,” he muttered.
Before she could press further, the waitress brought their food out. The Asian/Irish fusion was delicious. She took pity on Baby and gave him a couple of bites.
“That’s what you get for ordering something so safe.”
He was stiff and a little off the whole meal. She decided maybe a dessert would put him in a better frame of mind. When the waitress asked if they wanted to see the dessert menu, which she called more impressive than the regular menu, Baby said no at the same time Quinn said yes.
Quinn shook her head and laughed. “Oh no, buddy, we’re definitely having dessert. And you’re going to pick.”
The waitress gave them both dessert menus. “I’ll give you guys a minute.”
“We don’t need to have dessert.” His grin was so lascivious, it was almost a leer. “Why don’t you come back to my place and let me have you for dessert?”
It came to her suddenly why he was doing this. Why he’d been acting strange the whole night. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
“You’re acting this way because you don’t like me spending this much money. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you got the hamburger because it was less expensive. And it’s why you don’t want dessert because you think it cost too much.”
“Quinn, no...”
She was pr
etty pissed. “I can afford a nice dinner. I know it seems like I’m half homeless, but I’m not. I would never have told you all that stuff about my past if I had known it meant you would never let me do anything nice for you.”
He looked surprised. “It’s not like that, I swear.”
She scoffed. “Right. Damn it, Baby, it makes me feel like you think I’m useless, the way Peter did.” She looked away and blinked rapidly, determined to keep that damned moisture in her eyes and not let it fall down her cheeks.
“Hey.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hands, sounding a little frantic. “Stop. You know I don’t feel that way about you. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. Don’t lump me in with Peter the prick.”
She pulled her hands away and pointed to the menu. “Then pick a damned dessert.”
“Look, let’s leave it alone.”
He really wasn’t going to pick one. She knew she shouldn’t let this become such an issue, but she couldn’t help it. There was something much deeper going on here. He said it wasn’t because of her, but how could it not be?
Damn it, the tears did fall, even though she didn’t want them to. “You’re the only person who has ever told me I was strong for screaming at Peter. Everyone else made me feel like I was overdramatic to have let my feelings out in that way. You’re the one who has convinced me to loosen up. To literally let my hair down. I thought you respected that in me. But in the end, you’re just like everyone else, aren’t you? You think I’m—”
“I can’t read.”
“—useless and...” She stopped as his words sunk in. “What?”
“I can’t read. That’s why I’m not picking a fucking dessert. Not because I don’t respect you.”
She shook her head, trying to make sense of it. “That can’t be right. You’ve already finished most of your college degree. You own a business. I’ve seen you read.”
“When?”
She gestured at the dessert menu. “In Oak Creek at restaurants. You’ve always read the menu and ordered for...”
She faded off again as she realized that was incorrect. Yes, he had ordered for them, but she’d never actually seen him look at the menus. He’d developed coping mechanisms to get around it. Like not going out to eat at new restaurants was a coping mechanism.
He probably had the same type of measures in place for the garage. He must’ve done the same thing for his college courses, which would make sense. That was why he’d failed the literature classes but hadn’t had problems with the science and math courses.
Baby was smart. Well-spoken. She’d known he dropped out of high school, but there had never been anything about him that suggested he was ignorant or lacked critical thinking skills. Actually, learning this now, realizing how much he’d adapted to be able to keep this secret from everyone—and she had no doubt he had kept this from everyone—she was even more convinced of his intelligence.
He’d developed coping mechanisms just like...
“You’re dyslexic. Like Ethan.” She shook her head, trying to clear it, trying to take it all in. “That makes sense. I don’t know if research supports that dyslexia is hereditary, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it’s true.”
The waitress came over. “Did you guys decide on a desert?”
Baby looked over at Quinn, his face still guarded and harder than she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t figure out what to say. What was she going to do, read the menu to him like he was a child?
“I—” She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, just knew she had to say something.
But in the end, Baby picked up the dessert menus and handed them back to the waitress, unopened. “No, nothing else. We’re done.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
They drove back to the TSC campus so Baby could get his truck in relative silence. Quinn wrestled with all the ramifications of his admission. She had a million questions but wasn’t sure if they were really any of her business. After all, what were they to each other? She wasn’t his girlfriend. She didn’t have any hold on his life at all.
He’d spent most of his life not telling the people closest to him about this issue. What right did she have to expect him to open up to her?
“Baby.” They were way too close to campus by the time she formulated the words she wanted to say. “Think about how Ethan has conquered his dyslexia. I’m not sure how severe yours is, but you’re so smart and...”
“Believe me, I’ve looked into it. It’s different for kids than it is for adults. What Charlie has done with Ethan has been nothing short of amazing, but there’s no guarantee it would be that way for me.”
“But you could try. Charlie might already have an advantage, having worked with Ethan.”
“Look. I don’t need people to pity me, okay? Nobody even knows I was working toward my college degree.”
“Why? Statistically speaking, people who have a support network are more likely to be successful in completing a degree. Especially someone like you, who is a first-generation college degree seeker.”
“Thanks, professor.”
Quinn grimaced and tightened her hands on the steering wheel. God, she was terrible at this. So unlike Baby himself, who always seemed to know what to say to make people feel better. “I’m sorry.”
He reached up to rub his forehead then turned to look out the window. “I barely made it through my junior year of high school. I only did because I was popular and could always find someone to help me with whatever I needed school-wise. So close to cheating, but not exactly. I honestly always wanted to understand and could understand when people explained it to me vocally. I just couldn’t force the words to make sense. Math was no problem. But reading and writing sucked. I swear, Quinn, I can barely read the Dick and Jane books. Believe me, I’ve tried. Over and over.”
“Repetition might work for some, but not for others.”
He shrugged. “Nobody was surprised when I dropped out the spring of my junior year. They all thought I wanted to be a mechanic. Why bother finishing school if that was the case?”
She sighed. “Schooling isn’t for everyone. I’ve made a career of it and would still be the first person to say that higher learning isn’t necessary to be successful. You’re a prime example of that.”
She didn’t understand why he’d gone on to college to begin with.
“I did well in classes related directly to my major—my math and science courses. There was some reading, but mostly the instructors were concerned about the math and physics. I can do that, no problem. I was way ahead of the curve, so they cut me slack when it came to the stuff that involved reading.”
She could see that he would have aced anything involving numbers and equations.
“If you don’t care about the degree, and you don’t want to change your career, why not just take the classes you want?”
They pulled up into the parking lot.
“There are... circumstances. Unusual parameters,” he finally muttered.
She wasn’t sure what that meant.
She turned off the engine and turned to face him. “Come home with me. Let’s talk about this some more.”
But he unfastened his seatbelt and reached for the door. “Not tonight. I...” He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
“I want to help.” She could hear the desperation in her voice, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She felt like if she let him go now, they were never going to repair this. He was going to shut her out.
“The best way you can help is respecting the fact that I haven’t told anyone else about this.”
“Of course. I would never say anything to anyone. All I meant—”
He opened the door and stepped out. “Good night, Cupcake. Thanks for dinner.”
He closed the car door, and he was gone.
By the time Quinn was almost home, she’d worked herself into a state of near-panic. She had to do more. She didn’t know the unusual parameters around Baby’s situation, but she wa
sn’t going to let him shut her out either.
She would drop her stuff off at home, then go over and talk to him.
A bitter fear clogged her throat at the thought that he might send her away again. In the greater scheme of things, she was nothing more to him than a pleasant pastime. Which was what he should be to her, too—although she knew he was much, much more.
But damn it, she was going to be his friend. Baby did such a good job of taking care of everyone around here, with his quick smile and affability—and she wanted to be a friend for him.
And what about everyone else? They all might have considered he was struggling on some level, but they hadn’t dug deeper.
Digging deeper, researching, figuring out problems and how to solve them? By God, she had spent her entire adult life devoting herself to that. And if she could help him, she was damn well going to do it.
Starting tonight.
“Hey Grizzly.”
She patted the dog’s head, ignoring his slight growl. She’d come to realize that was how he communicated. Growled when he was upset. Growled when he was content.
He’d been on her porch every day since the break-in. Every once in a while, he would come inside, sniff around as if something had changed, then settle back outside. It was a situation that suited both of them. Quinn left him some food a couple of times a day, and he tolerated her existence.
She got him another bowl of food and grabbed a change of clothes, hoping she’d need them once she was at Baby’s apartment. She decided to take her computer. She would need it if they decided to do some research. She didn’t recall ever seeing a computer in Baby’s apartment.
Now she understood why.
She stopped abruptly on her way to the door when she heard a knock.
Please let that be Baby.
But when she opened the door it was a stranger. A cop, probably in her early thirties. Quinn recalled seeing around town but didn’t know her name.
