by Anne Harper
Mrs. McMurray shrugged the comment off.
“We all have our quirks. I won’t apologize for mine being more interesting than most.”
Quinn could have taken his grumpy mood and gone a few more rounds with the woman but decided to let the voice of reason he’d been suppressing come out to say hello. He sat taller in his seat and cleared his throat.
“Now what can I do for you, Mrs. McMurray?”
She moved her purse from her lap to the cushion next to her and got to firing before he’d watched her complete the task.
“I need you to stop being such a jackass, is why I’m here.”
If she had a voice of reason, it definitely sounded a lot different than Quinn’s.
“Excuse me?”
Mrs. McMurray gave him an exasperated wave. Like she was annoyed at him and had the right to be so.
“I know that dirty little trick you pulled on Antonella,” she pushed on. “The one where you tried to make her think Mushrooms Donavon was the thing holding you back from being with her. Just like I know that it probably blew up in your face after she found out it was actually you who had called the shot. And what you don’t know is why I’m here.”
“You said it’s because I’m a jackass,” he repeated. To his own ears, his voice had gone cold. Angry.
Mrs. McMurray didn’t seem to notice or care.
She nodded.
“See, a lot of people here in town call me a hurricane with all the reverence of people afraid of what they think I am. But the truth is, hurricanes don’t just spring to life. They’re formed.” She pushed her shoulders back with absolute pristine posture. Her story that followed, however, didn’t sound like it had been rehearsed at all. “My husband Deaton was the kind of man who always had one foot in the ocean and one foot on the land. My mother had said that once about him and it took me a while to understand what she meant until one day we were driving to the mountains for a vacation and got caught in a storm. See, I’d been drinking on some to-go sweet tea and, after we had to pull off the road because of the weather, I realized just how badly I had to go to the restroom. I mean, I’m not a woman to blush or be prudish, but when he suggested I go into my cup instead of jumping outside? Well, hear you me, I had some words about that and against Deaton’s judgment, I instead went out into the downpour, found the tree line, and did my business in the middle of a thunderstorm. I’ll never forget that man laughing as I left the car.
“Well, I was young and not as put together as I am now,” she continued. “The weather picked up and I got turned around and the next thing I know I’m hunkered down between some bushes with my makeup pouring down my face and every inch of me soaked. I was just hoping for a small break so I could see where the car was, but a minute or two later and Deaton was next to me, holding his shirt out like an umbrella.” For the first time since meeting the woman, Mrs. McMurray seemed to soften. Only for a moment. “I’d like to say we got back to the car easy since he’d just come from it, but we didn’t. Instead we went farther into the trees where the rain wasn’t as bad and waited out the storm. By the time it lifted enough, we’d somehow managed to be half a mile away.”
She shook her head, not at all upset.
“If that had been me and anyone else, I would have been so annoyed and angry and filled with cusses but with Deaton? Well, he—”
“Always had one foot in the water and one on the land,” Quinn finished.
Mrs. McMurray nodded.
“It’s hard to be rigid when the person you love is so flexible,” she said. “Just by being with them, you start to feel the hard edges that life has made on you start to become smoother.”
She sighed. Quinn didn’t interrupt again.
“Deaton passed rather unexpectedly,” she continued, voice as soft as Quinn had ever heard it. “I couldn’t help but think that if it had been reversed and I’d been the one to go like that, he’d be sad but go with the flow. Still be that man who would make jokes and skip half a mile just to make me laugh. But, well, that wasn’t how it happened. Instead life gave me back my pointy edges and I haven’t let a person since his passing come anywhere close enough to help me smooth them.”
Quinn thought he knew where her point was going but waited all the same. He’d gone from disliking the woman to understanding her thanks to a story about having to use the bathroom in a thunderstorm.
Mrs. McMurray fixed him with a stare that went right back to the one she’d had when they’d first met.
“I came here today to tell you that I think life gave you some hard edges and instead of working on them, you’re doing what I’ve spent the last several years doing, which is a big fat nothing. But, hey, if my years of wisdom and people-watching skills are wrong, I’ll leave you alone to brood. Just answer me this first…”
She leaned closer to him but pointed at the door.
“When you came outside earlier when I shut my car door, who were you hoping to see?”
Quinn opened his mouth to form a rebuttal. At least on her assumptions of him shutting people out because life had taken his plans and thrown them away.
Yet he couldn’t say a thing against her.
But he could say the answer.
“Nell.”
Mrs. McMurray smiled.
“One foot in the water, one food on land, and the grumps like us trying to learn to enjoy the view,” she said.
Quinn didn’t respond for a moment. Instead he thought about mud.
He thought about mud and a pig and a missing high heel.
He thought about laughter and how he’d risked his job to follow a woman to a crab trap with a box of sex toys.
He thought about wearing a bug like some kind of spy and having a secret rendezvous in the bathroom of a crowded restaurant.
He thought about offering to share a meal with a stranger with wet hair and a voice so loud everyone paid attention to it.
Every situation had been bizarre, unpredictable, and so far from what Quinn had expected.
Yet, with Nell there?
With her at his side?
The uncertainty he’d been carrying in him since he’d told Donavon that he and Nell would never be a thing cleared up in an instant.
“I love her,” he said simply. “And instead of admitting it to her, I ran away.”
Mrs. McMurray’s smile grew.
“Well, as much as I’m all for epiphanies, you should probably tell her that and not this old bag of bones. I believe the party of the century, according to her rebel of a younger brother, is going on tonight? I’m not personally one for grand romantic gestures, but that might be a good place to at least apologize for being a tool.”
Quinn couldn’t help the laugh that boomed out of him. Not because he’d been called a tool but because he’d figured out how to fix his first mistake with Nell.
He stood and went for his keys.
Mrs. McMurray’s brow rose.
“Unless you want to go to her house now. I suppose that works, too.”
Quinn shook his head.
“No, you’re right. I’ll do it at the party. But first I need to get something, and it’s a little bit of a drive.”
Southern Hurricane stood, already armed with her purse.
“Well then I think I’ll join you,” she declared. “There was something else we needed to talk about and a long drive just might be perfect for it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The male stripper was dipping a chip into the guacamole when Nell walked into the kitchen. Not a euphemism but definitely not what she normally would have expected to see in her parents’ house.
Then again, Marta Bennett’s sixtieth birthday was quickly shaping up to be one for the books. Every expectation had been decimated before it even officially started.
Nell had helped her siblings decorate before she’d gone home to change int
o her party dress. She’d headed back with a half hour to spare and still struggled when trying to find an open place to park.
The guests had come early.
And, an hour in, they were still arriving.
Glen, who would be accompanying the massive birthday cake when it was brought up at nine—after a quiet warning was given to the parents who had children with them—gave Nell a nod.
Olly giggled at her shoulder.
“Man, he’s so good-looking,” she whispered. “It’s a shame he only strips to a speedo.”
Nell swiped the glass of sweet tea she’d come in after from the counter and took her sister’s elbow and redirected them both back into the dining room. It, like the rest of the first floor, was decorated in colorful garland, paper lanterns, and various pictures of their mother and the family over the years. The giant 6-0 balloons could be seen in front of the fireplace in the adjoining living room. Nell’s personal favorite, however, was the banner that read, “Cheers to sixty years!” and the picture of her mother, who had been a little bit tipsy in, that her father had taped next to it.
Now that Nell knew the more scandalous story of how they met, she had a new fondness for Tipsy Mom and tequila. Not so much, though, that she’d taken up her aunt Fiona’s offer to take some shots when the party had started.
“Didn’t you come here with a date?” Nell asked, keeping her voice low so no partygoers overheard. The house and back patio and yard were filled with music, food, and people. Nell had already lost track of Tally and Jones.
Olly rolled her eyes.
“Just because I brought Dixon along doesn’t mean he’s my date. We’re friends. That’s it.”
Nell gave her sister a pointed look. Of all the Bennett siblings, Olly was the loudest and most talkative but Nell knew she only meant half of what she said. The other half was just noise to distract everyone from Olly’s insecurities. If she made a point to say she and Dixon weren’t a thing, then there was a chance that’s exactly what she wanted.
But Nell couldn’t force her sister to come to terms with her feelings and to be honest about what she wanted.
How could she when Nell had only just done that one day ago? Especially since that had turned out with her going to the party solo.
Not exactly a cheering story about a happily ever after.
“Well maybe stop sticking to me and spend a little time with him and that might change,” she offered instead. “I haven’t seen him talk to any other lady here other than his cousin’s wife.”
A look of hope passed over Olly’s face. She tamped it down with a smirk.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “Let’s go hit the dance floor for one song and then I’ll consider bailing out on being a helicopter sister.”
Nell sighed but conceded.
“Fine. But I’m still not drinking any tequila.”
They moved through the house out onto the back patio. Bistro lights twinkled against the night sky while the DJ kept music flowing through the world around them. In the middle of the dance floor was the woman of the hour. Nell’s father was at her side, both laughing and moving to the beat.
Olly shook her head but laughed.
“I know for a fact Mom and Dad haven’t had that much to drink yet.”
“I think it’s adorable,” Nell admitted. “They’re literally dancing like no one is watching. It’s sweet.”
“It’s something all right.” Mateo popped up at their side. Leon was with him. Both had brought dates but, last Nell had seen, they had been playing Pin the Tail on the Mailman in the living room. “I don’t look like that when I dance, do I?”
Leon snorted.
“No way. They look way better than that chicken dance stuff you do.” Leon, usually totally buttoned-up, started to twerk. Or, an attempt at twerking. “This is what you look like.”
Nell and Olly lost it. Mateo rolled his eyes. Liere must have sensed she was missing her twin making a fool of himself. It was like she appeared out of thin air.
“Are we talking about Mom and Dad being precious or are we pretending to be Mateo at the club?” she asked, eyes alight. “Because I’m on board for either.”
Mateo tried to look offended but he ended up laughing with the rest of them.
“You guys are hilarious,” he said. “And also y’all can’t say shit. I’ve seen each and every one of you dance and, believe me, the apple didn’t fall that far from those two trees out there.”
He was right. Collectively, the Bennett family wasn’t the best at finding any beats or grooves on the dance floor. But, when they were together, it didn’t really matter.
Mateo grabbed Liere’s wrist and nodded toward their parents.
“Now let’s go show a united front.”
Liere laughed as she was pulled along, but not before catching Nell’s wrist who in turn grabbed Leon. She heard Olly laugh as he must have taken her hand.
Then it was all five Bennett children dancing, quite poorly, next to their parents. In any other situation Nell might have been embarrassed as the partygoers near them made room and watched, but there was a beauty in it.
So she stayed there for several songs, switching out partners between her family and friends, and feeling the warmth of the people she loved most around her.
Maybe her “the one” wasn’t any one person. Maybe the one didn’t have to be a romantic love at all. Maybe it was just a group of people who loved her unconditionally while they all danced poorly and offbeat.
And maybe that was okay.
She didn’t need someone to complete her. Not a romantic relationship, not a man. Not someone who made her feel happy and giddy and went along with her awful ideas. Not a man who had decided for both of them that their feelings weren’t real because they were just two broken people who happened to find other broken pieces.
She didn’t need Quinn.
No matter how much she wanted him.
And she did.
She wanted him, even though she didn’t want to.
She’d spent a week trying to figure out what hurt her the most and why it hurt at all, but it hadn’t been until she was facing Quinn the day before that all of it finally made sense.
That her relationship with Greg ending had done damage. That being told outright and without expecting it that she wasn’t it had, quite frankly, sucked. Even more so now that she truly wanted to be it for Quinn. That she wanted him to be “the one” for her.
Instead she’d been crushed quite swiftly by the man.
All while standing in one of her favorite places in all of Arbor Bay.
A place that soon might not be the same one she loved, depending on who bought it.
But now?
At least she knew how Quinn felt.
At least she knew how she did, too.
Now they wouldn’t be together for years only for someone else to show him that his feelings for her didn’t reach his heart. They were just two people who had found each other in a weird, unexpected place.
Nell felt the people around her on the makeshift dance floor laughing and singing and being in the moment.
Maybe it was time to let go of Quinn.
To accept that their story started in a restaurant and ended in an office with empty filing cabinets.
Maybe—
“Nell.” Liere’s was in her face with a sense of excitement in the one syllable. She looked over her shoulder but when Nell went to turn to see what was pulling her sister’s attention, Liere held her fast by the upper arm in a makeshift dance move.
“What?”
The corner of Liere’s lip went up. Her eyes went back to Nell’s and stayed.
“Someone’s been looking at you from across the room and I just couldn’t keep quiet about it anymore.”
Nell was so caught off guard by the comment tha
t she stumbled out of her sister’s grasp and turned around.
The man in question couldn’t have heard her from the distance between them but the way he was looking at Nell made her say his name on reflex.
“Quinn.”
There he was, on the patio. Staring at her.
Staring at her when she wasn’t looking.
He smiled and then was all movement. Nell watched him walk past her and mount the stage. The music stopped.
Feedback from the microphone set up next to the main speakers made several people in the crowd groan and wince. Quinn cleared his throat, a noise that carried across the yard through the microphone’s speaker. Quinn was hard to ignore, even if he hadn’t been behind the mic. His size dwarfed a lot of the people directly around him and his suit put even more party attendees to shame. There was no denying in any sense of the word that Quinn Hannigan was a masterpiece.
At least to Nell.
She didn’t address her brother’s question. Instead she lobbed one of her own to anyone who could hear it.
“What’s he doing up there?”
Quinn fiddled with the microphone and its stand to get it closer to his mouth. Nell could have sworn she heard some nervousness in his voice.
“I have a few things I need to say and I’ve been given permission by Mrs. Bennett to say them,” he prefaced. “So please no booing until I’m done.”
Nell couldn’t look away but realized her mother and father’s dancing forms had been out of her periphery for a song or two before now.
Had they been talking to Quinn?
Why?
Quinn cleared his throat.
Seconds later, his gaze found hers.
Then he started to speak to the crowd.
“I don’t like loud. I don’t think I ever have, really. My parents were quiet and, somehow, my son is mostly quiet, too. My ex-wife? Louder than me but, again, that doesn’t take much. I think that’s why I don’t like social media or trust the internet or have a phone that isn’t a dinosaur. New and change, to me, have always been synonymous with loud.” He shook his head and grinned. “And, as I said, I don’t like loud.”
Quinn’s gaze found hers again. It stuck longer before expanding back out.