by Fredrick, MJ
“Nothing. I swear.”
“My house?”
“Nothing. Quinn, when did you get so suspicious?”
He snorted and settled back in the low-backed vinyl chair. “Since I met you.”
“I’m not doing anything to your bar or your house or your boat. I just—miss you, is all.”
His heart clutched, but he shoved her words aside.
“Everything else going okay?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
He grunted, no longer wanting to talk about his family. “Tell me what’s going on at home.”
He let himself lose himself in her soft voice as she launched into stories about Bluestone, the movie night he missed where everyone dressed up in Sixties style clothing for that romantic dance movie, and Dale the town doctor broke his finger during one of Leo’s baseball games. Her voice relaxed him, even as he kept his gaze on his sleeping father.
“Hey, your battery must be dying,” she said after several minutes. “When are you going back to the motel?”
“In the morning,” he said. “I’d rather stay here at night when the rest of the family isn’t here.”
“Is it that bad?”
He thought about the dinner but didn’t want to go into it. “They’re pretty much strangers to me now. So yeah, it’s better to come now.”
“Is your dad conscious?”
“No. I don’t think he will be again. We’re just waiting.”
“I’m sorry, Quinn.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t even know how he felt. “He’s not suffering too much. I mean, maybe he is, but he’s on heavy doses of morphine. He gets juiced every couple of hours, more if he needs it.” He blew out a sigh. “I don’t want to go this way, Lil. Take me out to the middle of the lake and dump me or something.”
“Sure, if you’re still living here,” she countered.
Right. He wasn’t going to stay. “I’ll have to call you to come get me, wherever I am.”
“I’ll come get you,” she said, her tone playful. “Just so I can drop you in the lake.”
“I appreciate it. I’d better go. You have an early tour?”
“Yeah.” She sounded sleepy. He could imagine her letting her hair down as she wandered back to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed and loosening her shoes—or maybe she’d already changed into her flip-flops and kicked them off before shucking her jeans down those long legs.
He sat forward. It was wrong to be imaging her getting naked and getting in bed while he was sitting here with his dying father. He wanted to say, “I miss you,” but he didn’t. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure. You know where to find me.”
He disconnected and held the phone in his hand a long time before tucking it away.
Chapter Six
Quinn reached for his phone blindly as it buzzed by his bed. He didn’t open his eyes to check the display, only clicked to answer. “Yeah?”
“It’s your dad,” said a voice he didn’t recognize, but it had to be Tammy. “You need to come.”
The drive to the hospital was a blur. He stood at the edge of the room while his family circled his father’s bed, his mother sniffling, Rose sobbing, her husband corralling the kids who should’ve understood the solemnity of the moment. Jared and Liam stood close to the old man’s head as his breathing grew more labored and loud. Quinn had heard that sound before, when Gerry was fighting for every breath. The death rattle, he’d heard it called, and it sent chills through his body.
His sister turned into her husband’s arms, Liam hugged Tammy, Jared held their mother. Only Quinn was alone, and aching for Lily and her bright spirit as his father breathed his last, and the room was suddenly quiet. His mother’s sobs grew to a wail as she realized he’d gone, and Jared held her tighter. Quinn closed his hands into fists. He needed to do something, anything. He crossed the room to the door and flagged down the nurse, the overnight one he’d made friends with. She’d just come on shift.
“He’s—gone,” he said, unable to say the word “dead.” Unable to process the idea that his father was gone.
“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm, and he looked down into her warm eyes. “Let’s give your family a few minutes, and then I’ll be in.”
To prepare the body, he imagined. “You have to do that a lot?”
“It’s what I signed on for. Really, Quinn, I’m sorry for your loss. No matter how long someone is sick, it’s never easy.”
He nodded, a lump forming in his throat at her kindness, and he stepped back into the room.
His family, including the kids, were holding hands, heads bowed, praying the Lord’s Prayer. His stomach clenched a moment. They hadn’t waited for him. And then Tammy broke contact with her oldest son and reached a hand to him, to pull him into the circle.
Once everyone started leaving the room—Liam to call the funeral home and attend to other business—Quinn broke away and called Lily.
“It’s over,” he said when she answered.
“Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry. How are you?”
“Not really sinking in.”
“I imagine not. What can I do?”
Come, he wanted to ask, but of course she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t even know how to find her way.
“Nothing. I just—wanted to let you know. I’ll be home the end of the week.”
“Okay. Quinn. I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah. I—I’ll talk to you later.”
***
The knock on the door of his hotel the next morning woke him. He’d been up late last night watching shit on TV, unable to sleep, until maybe three hours ago. He’d figured it wasn’t so bad since he had no intention of going back to the house until time for the viewing. He’d spent enough time there last night, listening to the funeral plans.
The knock came again, more insistent, and he looked at the time. Almost eleven. He’d slept longer than he’d thought. He sat up and dragged on his jeans, then padded across the floor in his bare feet. He looked through the security hole, and…
He fumbled with the chain, pinching his finger in the process, making him realize he wasn’t still asleep. When he opened the door, Lily stepped through. He swept her into his arms, holding her against him, burying his face in her sweet, cool hair, feeling the imprint of her body against his, her own arms wrapping tightly around him, her hand smoothing his hair.
“Hey,” she said against his neck.
“Hey.” Embarrassed by the need he’d just revealed, he stepped back, but his gaze swallowed her. She was wearing a dress, for God’s sake, a dark blue dress that wrapped around in front and tied, and sandals and her toenails were painted a pretty pale—what, kind of peach, kind of orange. “How did you find me?”
“Small town. Everyone knows your family. They told me you were staying here. I told the girl in front that I was your girlfriend. Sorry about that.”
“They would’ve jumped to that conclusion anyway.” Suddenly aware that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he turned to pick up his t-shirt from the foot of the bed and pulled it on. “Jesus, you must have gotten up at the crack of dawn to get here.”
“I couldn’t sleep once I decided to come.”
He wanted to touch her again, but that would reveal too much. “Have you eaten?”
“No, but—”
“Let’s go get something. There’s a buffet not far from here, should be open for lunch soon.” He needed to brush his teeth first. It tasted like something had nested in his mouth overnight. He crossed to the exposed sink and picked up his toothbrush.
She followed and leaned against the closet, watching him in the mirror. “Quinn. How are you doing?”
He didn’t stop brushing to answer, but dipped his head low to spit, wishing she wasn’t watching. “Didn’t sleep much. Watched a lot of TV.”
When he turned back, she moved close and placed her fingers lightly on his cheek. “You want me to get something, bring i
t back so you can get some more sleep?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not going to get anymore sleep anyway.”
“The viewing is tonight, someone said.”
“And the funeral tomorrow. I just want it to be over. Will be good to go home.” Now that his mouth was clean, he wanted to kiss her, and the idea scared the hell out of him. Okay, not the idea of kissing her, but of what it would mean. For God’s sake, she had come a thousand miles to be with him because his dad died. That already was beyond friendship.
“Did you—were you able to do what you came here to do?” she asked.
He shrugged and pulled a clean pair of socks out of his luggage, then sat on the corner of his bed. “That remains to be seen. I’m going to look like a slob next to you. I’m not shaving until before we go to the funeral home.”
“This is Trinity’s,” she said, plucking at the skirt. “I don’t quite do it justice.”
“You look great,” he said before he could stop himself, and shoved his feet in the boots and laced up. “You ready to go?”
She gave him a look he couldn’t read, kind of like she was trying to figure him out—good luck—before she nodded and let him take her hand.
***
Lily’s pulse thudded. She had lain awake for hours after talking to him last night, then opened her laptop and made reservations to fly down here. She’d been at Trinity’s door at the crack of dawn to borrow the dress and a suitcase that wouldn’t disgrace her, then had driven to Brainerd, flown to Minneapolis, then to Wichita where she’d rented a car and a GPS and come to town.
But Quinn’s greeting had been totally worth it. She could still feel his arms around her, his face in her hair, the shudder of his body as he held her. He’d needed her and she’d come. She felt a kind of pride in her decision.
“I got that room right over there.” She pointed, wanting to let him know she didn’t intend to stay with him.
“You didn’t have to do that.” He walked to the driver’s side of a compact car and popped the locks.
“Like I’m going to crowd you, Mr. I-Want-To-Be-Alone.”
He scowled. “Get in the car.”
Seeing him like that, his old self, was reassuring. Not that she didn’t love that he’d pulled her into his arms and held her hand, but his personality hadn’t dimmed under the weight of his grief. Maybe her being here brought some semblance of normalcy.
He drove the few blocks to the diner, which was pretty busy for lunchtime on a Tuesday. He took her hand again and led her to the counter, where he greeted the waitress by name and placed a menu between them.
“So, you moved from one small town to another. You’d think you’d have learned your lesson.”
“It’s not the small town part I object to,” he said. “I’m getting a burger. They’re good here.”
“I guess you haven’t done a lot of socializing with old friends since you’ve been here,” she said, folding the menu and tucking it between the napkin dispenser and the salt and pepper shakers.
He blew out a breath. “You didn’t really think that was something I’d do, did you?”
“I guess not.” She flicked her finger back and forth across the top of the menu. “Were you popular in high school?”
“Me?” The word burst out of him on a laugh.
“Weren’t you like a football player or something?”
“Yeah, but not like a quarterback or running back or anything. I played center. Not a lot of glory there.”
“But you have some old football buddies, I’m sure.”
“None I particularly want to see. At this point I just pretty much want to go home.” They placed their orders—both hamburgers and pop.
“You’re not going to stick around after the funeral?”
“Liam seems to have everything under control, as far as taking care of the business part of dying.”
“I’m talking about being here with your family.”
He shook his head. “We’ve had enough of that for another eleven years.”
“Was it really that bad?”
He shrugged. “I’d just rather get back to where things are normal.”
“Are you handling it okay?”
“It’s still not real. I half-expect to see him sitting in his recliner every time I walk into the house. I mean, I was in the room when he died. It should be real, right?”
“I don’t know.” She felt helpless. Her grandmother had died when she was a child, but she didn’t remember much about it. Thankfully both of her parents were alive. In fact, she was going to call them as soon as lunch was over. She wished they were close enough that she could hug them.
Instead she laced her fingers through his on the counter. He looked at their joined hands.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and pulled his hand away as their drinks were served.
***
After lunch they drove around a little. He showed her where he went to high school and where he used to go to the movies and where his mom did her grocery shopping. The town was what Bluestone would become without effort to keep it growing. Of course it didn’t have a lovely blue lake nearby. It was surrounded by farmland that looked dry and yellowed, wasted, like the town.
He drove her back to the motel when she thought he’d take her to his mom’s house.
“What time is the visitation?”
“Five, I think. Until seven. Then we’re going back to Mom’s and eat the food all the neighbors are bringing.”
Guilt twinged her stomach. “I didn’t bring anything. I should have.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re here. That’s what matters.” He inclined his head to his motel room. “Want to come in?”
Of course she did, but what did that mean? There wasn’t a lot of sitting room in there—she’d counted a chair and a bed. She didn’t want to be confined in there with him for the next few hours, or worse, make him feel confined. “I’m going to go to my room and take a nap, unless you need me.”
“No, that’s good. That—you should. I’ll come get you when it’s time for the viewing. I mean, if you want to go with me.”
“That’s why I came, Quinn.” She kissed his cheek and crossed the lot to her room. When she looked over his shoulder, he was watching her, one hand on the door knob of his room.
***
He wore a suit and had shaved when he came to get her a couple of hours later. She’d put her dress back on just moments before and tugged the skirt into place as she stared.
He wore a suit every Sunday, she knew that. He got up early, shaved and went to church. But there was something about seeing him here, maybe because she was wearing a dress. Maybe because it was such a solemn occasion, but he took her breath away.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Sure.” She picked up her purse, also borrowed from Trinity, and closed the door behind her.
They drove in silence to the tiny funeral home. The parking lot was already full though it wasn’t quite five. He walked around the car to her side but she got out before he could open the door. He tucked her hand in his, squared his shoulders and led her into the building.
“Where have you been?” a woman she presumed was his mother asked when he stepped into the lobby made to look like someone’s living room.
“You said five. It’s not five.”
She looked past him to Lily. “Everyone else is here. Who is this?”
“This is Lily.” His voice was tight, like he didn’t want questions.
“Lily!” A younger woman with a round face and rosy cheeks stepped forward and took both of Lily’s hands. “I’m Quinn’s sister, Rose. So nice to meet you, though I don’t think I’ve heard him say one word about you since he’s been here. Are you from Bluestone?”
“I am.”
“Lily, my mother Beverly, my sister Rose, my brother Liam and my little brother Jared.”
He went on to introduce the rest of the family, names she’d never remember, and the only one w
ho looked anything like Quinn was the youngest, Jared. She wondered if they looked like his father. After she shook hands all around, Quinn took her hand again and drew her close so the heat of his body warmed her bare arm.
“Lot of people,” Quinn said.
“Your father was very active in the church, very loved,” his mother said stiffly. “Of course they want to pay their respects. We should be inside so they may.”
Lily followed the family into the chapel, and stood quietly as they gathered around the open casket. Rose said something about her father looking younger, peaceful, but Lily just looked to see if she could see any resemblance to Quinn. She didn’t see any. They turned away to the recessed pews meant for the family, and she hesitated.
“I’m not family,” she said low to Quinn, hanging back.
“I want you here,” he said, and drew her into the pew beside him.
People visited the coffin, then formed a line in front of the pew to offer their condolences. Quinn accepted awkward hugs from strangers, or at least from people he hadn’t seen in years. A few older women patted his cheeks and murmured how much he’d changed, A few younger women gave him lingering looks before leaning in to give him one-armed hugs. The time passed interminably slow and Lily willed her stomach not to growl in the hushed room. But a slanted look from Quinn told her he’d heard.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said, leaning close so his lips almost brushed her ear.
She had no intention of leaving him. “I’m fine.”
When finally the ordeal ended, his mother turned to him, her lips pursed. “We’re going back to the house to eat, if you want to join us.”
“You already invited me,” he reminded her. “I’m bringing Lily.”
“Good,” Rose interjected, popping up beside Lily. “I’m looking forward to getting to know her.”
She wondered at his mother’s attitude, but the woman had just lost her husband, so Lily had to give her the benefit of the doubt. Still, the way the muscle in Quinn’s jaw jumped told her it was something else.
Quinn’s family home was almost as small as her cabin. She couldn’t believe four kids had grown up here and hadn’t killed each other. The living room wall was lined with photographs, and she gravitated toward it to look for pictures. She couldn’t imagine Quinn as a little kid, but there he was, skinny as a toothpick, tucked under Liam’s arm. There he was in his football uniform, filling out.
