then we’re going to have nothing to say to each other.”
“He makes a really good point there,” Wendy adds.
I can feel the heat rise in my face and Quinn can see it. She places a hand on my arm and I’m instantly calm. She could always do that: sense when I was starting to lose control, and with a touch, take me away from that place. What do you do when the one person who has to power to make everything right is the one that made everything wrong in the first place?
“It’s okay, everyone,” Quinn says quietly. “It’s not a secret, and I’ve kept far too many of those, for far too long. And it’s good, if someone new comes amongst us, that they know the truth.” She turns to Chelsea and smiles warmly. “I’m Quinn,” she says, “and I cheated on Judd for a year, and I’m pregnant with his baby.” And she looks around at all our faces, wide eyed. “And Judd, and the others, have forgiven me. For all their faults, this family forgives, and that makes them special. They know that we all make mistakes, big and small, and that the true test of a person is if they learn from them.”
“Well said,” my mother tells her, and gathers my wife into her arms.
“Well…” Wendy remarks to everyone, “now we’ve got that out of the way, let’s open some presents."
In the car, driving back to the city, Quinn hums softly to herself something about Baby Jesus and a manger and lowing cattle. It’s so familiar that I’m tempted to hum along, but that might be taking things a little too far. Instead I sigh. It’s contented, not regretful like it has been for as long as I can remember. Here we are, the three of us, driving home on a Christmas evening. It’s snowing gently outside and I can’t help feeling like everything is right at last. That everything has fallen into place.
She looks at me with raised brows. “What?” she asks me.
“Nothing,” I reply with a smile. “I’m happy.”
“Actually happy? On Christmas day after an afternoon with my family… and then an evening with your own?”
“Actually happy.”
She laughs. “You had a good look at that sweater mom got you?”
“Truly hideous.”
“You’ll have to wear it next year you know? She won’t forget about it.”
“Maybe Rachel’s presence will distract her.”
“Maybe.”
We drive for another ten minutes in silence, through the dark, winter night. Ahead the glow of the city calls us home.
“Thank you…” she says finally. “You gave me today. You gave me back my family.”
I nod. “And I guess you gave me New Year’s.”
“New Year’s that isn’t going to happen,” she points out.
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you knew it would be hard for me. You cared about me.”
“Of course I did.” She laughs again. “I know what you mean now.”
“About what?”
“About simplicity. I have everything I need, or could ever want, here in this car, right now. Wade couldn’t give me that, only you. Only you could have given me Rachel and the love I need. And something else…”
“What?”
“My faith.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
She shakes her head, but her eyes keep their twinkle. She looks so young, so alive, so beautiful. “You know,” she says happily, “I not sure I do either.”
In the next episode of Twenty Four Weeks…
A quiet New Year’s Eve leads to an open discussion of the previous year… Judd presents a solution to their current predicament… After talking to Mary, Quinn has a revelation about her year with Wade…
Over coffee, in the place we met when our relationship was fragile and slowly growing, I explain it. She listens intently, her eyes betraying the small amount of shame that still resides within her. She doesn’t respond angrily, sarcastically, she nods and considers what I have said carefully.
“And you think this is the best way?”
“I do. I’m not sure there is any other option. I’ve been going over and over it, and nothing else has come to mind.”
She sighs. “I’m going to trust you, Judd. Everything in me is telling me not to, but I’m going to. I’m doing this because you came to me first and you were straight with me – and that you care about my opinion and you care about how this will affect me.”
I nod slowly. “I guess I’m worried most about your blood pressure. I don’t want to put you into hospital; I don’t want you to have complications. I certainly don’t want to put you and Rachel at risk.”
She leans forward, places her forehead against mine and closes her eyes. “I know,” she says quietly. “And I know that you’re doing this more for us than for the show. I know you want all of this to go away – and if this is the only way to do it – then you have my support.”
“Well…” I say, exhaling deeply, “now all I have to do is convince Wade.”
…
I’ve been watching everyone for the last few working days, looking for the person who leaked the real story to the press. I’m sure I have them, only knowing the truth has made me disappointed, sad, and maybe a little betrayed.
…
As we lie there I try vainly to hold memories at bay. I’ve been all too clearly reminded what happened last year. I didn’t realise it at the time, but the fog that obscured certain truths has been lifted and now I see it for what it was. She was in love with him. She loved him. And even though she tells me that she still loved me, that night was the beginning of the end for us. Her connection with me was already thin, and then it was starting to fray. I have no doubt that she would have told me the truth eventually had I not stumbled upon it myself. But then Rachel was coming, not at that moment, but a little after, and that complicated matters beyond belief.
The ball drops. Quinn leans over and kisses me, long and sweet. Her lips are soft and yielding and they tell me that she loves me more than any words she has ever uttered.
…
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
She nods and I take her in my arms.
“Do you want to tell me?” I ask.
“Tomorrow is the day. The same time we lost him. Eight months.”
“I know. I remember.” That day is etched in my mind. The days after were indistinct, made fuzzy by supressed grief and time. And the truth was that I never fully brought my life back into focus. I missed the subtle, I think sometimes obvious, signs that Quinn and I were in churning seas heading for the rocks.
“I’m afraid.” Two words. Succinct. Important. I didn’t miss them. Not this time.
…
“Did she hear the program?”
He nods, loses his grin. “Yeah. She messaged me. But she’s not buying it. She’s angry, and she has every right to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can’t be helped. I was always going to screw up, the question was when.”
“You didn’t screw up. It’s a misunderstanding. She’ll get that eventually.”
“But I did. You were right. I was an idiot to spend time with that girl. She’s barely over eighteen. I’m like twenty years older than her. Damn it.”
“Next time you’ll do better.”
“There might not be a next time. Damn it, I miss her, Judd. I miss her like there’s a hole in me. What does this mean?”
Download regularly the Episode Guide for updates on this series. Additionally there is an Adult version (contains adult themes, coarse language, sexual references, high-level sex scenes and some violence) and downloadable audio books of these episodes (adult version).
Twenty Four Weeks - Episode 21 - "Thirty Two" (PG) Page 4
