by Pamela Bauer
Lisa reached across to give her hand a squeeze. “I’m really sorry. We like Quinn.”
“So do I,” she confessed. “But things are rather complicated right now.”
“You mean because of the kids?”
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate, not wanting to reveal how Quinn’s situation had changed in the past few days.
“That’s to be expected. Neither one of you was expecting to be acting like parents at this stage in your relationship.”
Dena didn’t correct her. “It’s a foreign world to me, that’s for sure.”
“It is for all adults at one time or another. The only difference is that most parents get some time to prepare for the arrival of a child. See your brother out there?” She motioned toward the driveway where Ryan played basketball. “That is a work in progress. He didn’t know diddly about raising kids when Jeremy was born.”
“We didn’t exactly have great role models, Lisa,” Dena pointed out.
“Is that what worries you? That you’ll make the same mistakes your parents did?”
“No. I know I’m nothing at all like my mother,” she said quietly. They were words she said often enough to herself, hoping that in time she would believe them.
“I think someday you’ll make a wonderful mother, Dena,” Lisa said sincerely.
She sighed. “I just don’t know.”
Jeremy interrupted their conversation, calling out from the driveway. “Hey—Dad says we need two more players.”
“What do you think?” Lisa asked Dena.
“I think my brother knows better than to even ask. Me playing basketball is not a pretty sight.”
Lisa smiled. “Come on. You can’t be any worse than I am.”
Dena knew she probably was, but at least it would put an end to their conversation about her relationship with Quinn. “All right. But be warned. It could get ugly.”
THE FOLLOWING WEEK WENT BY slowly for Dena, mainly because Quinn and the children were gone. He hadn’t told her exactly when he was leaving, and if it hadn’t been for Krystal, Dena wouldn’t have known they’d gone. But the hairdresser, who didn’t work Monday mornings, had seen him loading up the suitcases and had talked to him then. She filled Dena in that evening when she came into the kitchen.
“He doesn’t know how long he’ll be gone,” Krystal stated, then eyed Dena curiously. “How come I’m telling you this when he’s your boyfriend?”
She knew the younger woman was waiting for her to confirm what she already suspected—that they’d broken up. She didn’t see any point in denying it.
“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” she confessed.
“Oh, please. Tell me you didn’t break up with him!” There was a pained expression on Krystal’s face. When Dena didn’t deny it, she said, “Omigosh, you did. Dena, do you realize what a catch he is?”
Dena was in no mood to be given any sort of advice on her love life. She slammed the teakettle down on the stove. “Krystal, men are not catches. They aren’t fish in the sea we reel in if we wear the right color clothes or say the things they want to hear. Not everyone thinks that love is a game nor does everyone want to talk about romance as if there’s nothing else of importance in the world!” She stopped abruptly when she realized the effect her words were having on her housemate.
Krystal’s face was white, her eyes moist with unshed tears. “Well, excuse me for trying to be a friend. I wish you hadn’t waited this long to tell me what a pest I’ve been.” With a quiet dignity that made Dena feel like a jerk, she turned and left the room.
“Krystal, wait! I’m sorry,” Dena tried to say, but the words never came out of her mouth. They were stuck in her heart.
She sat down at the table and dropped her head in her hands, wondering why relationships with other women were so difficult for her to maintain. It was how Leonie found her, slumped at the table.
“Are you all right, Dena?” the gentle voice called out.
She lifted her head and nodded, then immediately shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
Leonie sat down beside her and took her hand in hers. “Is there anything I can do?”
She bit on her upper lip and again shook her head. “But thank you for offering.”
Leonie looked at the half-empty plate of macaroni and cheese that Krystal had been eating. “Is that yours?”
“It’s Krystal’s. I said some things I shouldn’t have said to her, Leonie. I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you should be saying that to her instead of me,” Leonie said, her eyes full of compassion.
Dena sighed. “I will when she returns. She left…and I’m not sure when she’s coming back.”
The water Dena had been heating whistled in the kettle. “Was that Krystal’s, too?”
“No, I was heating it for me. You can use it if you like.”
“You’re not having any?” Leonie said, getting to her feet.
Dena shook her head. “I think I’ll just go upstairs.”
“Oh, please. Stay and visit with me. I’ll make the tea.”
Dena didn’t protest, and watched as her landlady moved about the kitchen. When she sat back down, she had two of her finest china cups.
“I usually just use a mug,” Dena said as she set one of the cups in front of her.
“I know. Me, too, but whenever I need an extra pick-me-up, I like to sip from fine china. It makes me feel a little special. You know what I mean?”
Dena took a sip of the tea and said, “You’re right. It does make a difference.”
“Tell me how your day went at work,” Leonie urged her.
“Actually, it was good. I was assigned to a new project. An important one.”
“That must mean they like your work.”
Dena nodded. “It’s nice to know they think highly of me. Of course, with the job comes more stress.”
They shared stories about their experiences in the workplace. No mention was made of the words she’d had with Krystal.
Finally Dena said, “How come you haven’t asked me what it was that Krystal and I argued about?”
“I figured that if it had something to do with you two sharing the second floor, you’d tell me.” Leonie took a sip of her tea, then looked at Dena over her cup and said, “Of course, that doesn’t mean I won’t listen if you feel you need to talk.”
“No. There’s really nothing to talk about.” She pushed the hair back from her face. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately and I think I overreacted to something Krystal said.”
“If that’s all it was, then a simple apology will probably make it right,” Leonie said in an optimistic tone.
Dena nodded, not wanting to admit to her landlady that it would take more than an apology to fix what had gone wrong in her relationship with Krystal. It had always been that way. With the exception of Maddie, every time Dena thought she was getting close to having a true friendship with a woman, something happened.
If she were honest she’d admit that it happened with her men friends, too. Maybe she was just destined not to be close to anyone, ever.
Dena put her cup back in the saucer. “Thank you for being so understanding.” She glanced at Krystal’s half-eaten plate of food. “I just wish I’d kept quiet. I guess if I hadn’t had such a difficult day I would have.”
“Stress makes all of us say things we wished we hadn’t,” Leonie said sympathetically.
“I don’t know, Leonie. I seem to be doing that an awful lot lately. Maybe I should be living alone. I’ve never been very good in group situations.”
“But you fit in here just fine.”
“Do I? I just drove Krystal out of the house, and Quinn doesn’t even want to talk to me.” She hadn’t meant to bring up his name, but it had slipped out. “I’m sorry, Leonie. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I know you and Quinn are having problems,” Leonie said.
“He told you?”
“You can stop looking so panicky. Quinn doesn’t talk t
o me about his love life.” She chuckled. “He would never do that. It was Sara who told me the two of you had broken up.”
Dena’s shoulders slumped again. “I didn’t realize she knew what was going on.”
“Children can be very perceptive when it comes to adult emotions,” Leonie said in a knowing tone.
When Dena didn’t say anything, she continued. “You know I keep my two hats on separate hooks. When I’m your landlady, I’m not a romance coach. That doesn’t mean I can’t be here as your friend, Dena. If you need someone to listen, I’m here…whether you want to talk about love or simply about life.”
Dena wanted to confide in her, but years of keeping everything bottled up inside refused to allow her to take that risk. “Thank you, Leonie. I appreciate that, but I don’t think talking is going to help.”
Leonie patted her hand. “If the time comes and you think it might help, I’m here for you.”
Dena gave her a grateful smile as she got up from the table. She was just about to leave when Krystal returned. The hello she tossed out was a general one to no one in particular.
She walked over to the table and picked up the remains of her dinner, then carried it to the garbage. “It’s hot out there today,” she said as she scraped the leftover food into the trash.
Leonie stood. “Yes, it is, which is why I should water my flowers. If you two will excuse me.”
Dena knew her landlady had left so that she could be alone with Krystal. Only her neighbor clearly did not want to be in the same room with her. Krystal would have hurried out of the kitchen right behind Leonie if Dena hadn’t stopped her.
“I’m sorry, Krystal, about what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Dena knew it sounded lame, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Apologies were never easy.
The redhead stopped at the door, then turned. “It’s all right,” she said, although, judging by her body language, it was anything but all right.
“No, it’s not. I don’t think you’re a pest. You’re a very sweet and considerate neighbor, and I feel badly because I hurt you. And I didn’t want to do that. If you had stayed I would have told you that right away, but you left.”
“Because I knew I was going all emotional,” she said candidly. “I find that if I go for a walk and think about things, I’m much calmer when it comes to discussing them.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been taking a lot of walks lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep having these emotional outbursts.”
“I was the one who blew up, Krystal.”
“Maybe we both weren’t our usual good-natured selves,” she said with a half grin.
“Maybe. I’m not feeling very good about what happened between me and Quinn, and it’s probably better if we just don’t talk about it.” It was the best she could do. She hoped Krystal would accept her attempt at making amends.
“Then we won’t talk about it.”
“Friends?”
Krystal smiled. “Friends.”
QUINN WAS GONE almost two weeks. Dena knew she should have been grateful he was out of town, because it meant she didn’t have to worry about running into him in the kitchen or the parking lot or even on the stairs. Only she found instead of being relieved, she was lonely. She missed him and found herself wondering what was happening in South Carolina. What decisions had he made concerning Sara and Kevin? Were he and Sara coming to terms with their recently discovered relationship?
They came home on the last Saturday in June. Dena had her windows open and heard their voices outside. Immediately her heartbeat increased. She thought about going downstairs to see them, but she didn’t. She sat at her PC, trying to work, when all she could think about was Quinn.
A short while later she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, then a knock on her door. She opened it and there stood Quinn and the two kids.
“You’re back!” She feigned surprise.
“We have something for you,” Sara said. She elbowed Kevin, who extended a white box to her.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Saltwater taffy. We got a box for Krystal and Leonie, too,” Kevin answered.
“Why, thank you. That’s very sweet of you,” she said, trying to focus her attention on the kids while her eyes longed to stare at Quinn.
“And I have this,” Sara said, producing a small paper bag.
Dena opened the sack and pulled out a pair of socks that had a beach scene on them. There was blue water, an umbrella, a chair and a pail on the sand. Dena smiled. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”
“That’s the beach where we always go,” she told her when Dena read the words stitched across the toe.
“They wanted to bring back souvenirs,” Quinn explained, and Dena finally met his eyes. What she saw there made her want to melt in his arms. He was so handsome and she’d missed him so much.
Kevin tugged on Quinn’s shirt. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
“In a minute,” Quinn told him. “Let me talk to Dena first.”
“But I gotta go real bad,” Kevin said.
“He can use mine,” Dena told him, nodding across the hallway.
“Kevin, go use Dena’s bathroom,” Quinn told him.
The seven-year-old looked at Quinn with an appeal in his eyes. “I don’t know where it is.”
Sara pointed to the door between Dena and Krystal’s apartments. “It’s right there. Just walk in.”
“Will you come with me?” Kevin asked his sister.
“I’m not taking a boy into the bathroom,” Sara protested. “Quit being a baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” he shouted back.
Quinn looked at Dena and said, “I’ll be right back,” then grabbed Kevin and took him into the bathroom across the hallway.
“So do you like the socks?” Sara asked.
“Yes, I do. And I’ll wear them tomorrow. I have just the outfit for them. Want to come inside?”
She nodded eagerly and followed Dena into her apartment. They left the door open so Quinn and Kevin could come back in without knocking.
“Did you have a good trip?” she asked Sara.
She shrugged. “It was okay.”
Dena wanted to ask her how her relationship with Quinn was going, but didn’t want to risk him walking in at any moment and hearing her answer. Instead, she asked, “Did you see your friends?”
“A few. Some were gone on summer vacation.”
They were talking about the different places she’d been when Quinn and Kevin reappeared. The face that only minutes ago had looked rested and interested in seeing her now was tense.
“Sara, would you take Kevin upstairs? I need to talk to Dena for a few minutes.”
The twelve-year-old looked as if she wanted to protest, but simply shrugged and pulled her brother by the hand, calling out goodbye to Dena as she left. As soon as they were alone, Quinn shut the door and faced Dena like an interrogation officer.
“How are you feeling?” he asked brusquely.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Fine? Didn’t you say before I left that you hadn’t been feeling well…that you’d been tired and tense?”
Of course she had. She’d been losing sleep over him. “Yeah, but I feel fine. I think I was run-down.”
“And you’re feeling your usual self again.”
She nodded.
He stood there staring at her, as if he didn’t believe her. Maybe he wanted her to say that she’d made herself sick because she was so crazy in love with him. It wouldn’t have been far from the truth. He had turned her whole world upside down.
“So there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
“Quinn, what are you getting at? If you want to ask me something, why don’t you just come out and say it?”
“Because I was hoping you’d tell me without me having to bring it up.”
“Tell you what?” she asked on a note of frustration.
&n
bsp; “About this.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a box. On it were written the words, “early pregnancy test.” It had been opened.
“Were you going to tell me about this?” he asked, waving it under her nose.
“Where did you find that?”
“In your bathroom. When I took Kevin in I found it on the vanity.”
She looked at it briefly. “It’s not mine.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. That’s not my private bath, in case you’ve forgotten,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Other people use it.”
Mainly Krystal, which meant there was a good chance that Dena’s housemate was pregnant. It would explain why Krystal had been so emotional recently.
“Then you’re not pregnant?” he demanded.
“No.”
Relief chased away the lines on his face.
“You know we took precautions,” she said.
“Yes, well so did Patsy and I.”
“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
His shoulders drooped. “No, I guess not. I’m sorry. I saw that box staring up at me, and with everything’s that’s happened, I thought…” He paused, then said, “I don’t know what I thought.” He moved toward the door.
When he had his hand on the knob he turned to her and asked, “If it had been yours, would you have told me?”
“Probably,” she answered honestly.
It caused him to shake his head. “What is this ‘probably’ stuff? You either would have or you wouldn’t have. Which is it?”
“Why does that it matter? I’m not pregnant.”
“It matters because I need to know you wouldn’t do what Patsy did.”
“I wouldn’t,” she stated with conviction. “But it’s a hypothetical question because I’m not pregnant.”
“And don’t ever foresee yourself becoming pregnant, either. Isn’t that what you told me? Kids weren’t in your career plan?” His eyes flashed with anger.
“Do you think this would be a good time for either one of us to become parents, Quinn?” she asked.
“I just did, Dena. They’re upstairs. And you know what, it’s a good feeling being a parent. That’s something I’m not sure you even want to try to understand.” There was anger in his voice. He pulled open the door and left without another word.
