by Tamara Sneed
“We’ll work something out, Wyatt. Charlie and Graham have.”
“We’re not Charlie and Graham,” he said, shaking his head. “My life is here at the funeral home—”
“You hate it,” she protested, before she could stop herself. “Why do you fight so hard to stay here when we both know you hate it?”
“I don’t hate it.”
“Yes, you do, Wyatt. I saw your face yesterday. You hate seeing people’s tears and their pain. That’s not who you are.”
“Yes, it is, Quinn, and you can’t change it,” he insisted. “I’m a small-town mortician, and we both know that I would only get in the way. You’re going to be a huge star. You’re going to have so many opportunities. I would just be in the way.”
She stared at him for a moment, unable to speak. She had woken up this morning with so much hope for her future, for them. And in an instant it had disappeared. And there was nothing she could do to change it.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered in disbelief.
“I’m just being a realist. You love me now, here, in Sibleyville, with no distractions. But, the moment we set foot in Hollywood, everything will change. I just want to end it before we hurt each other. At least, now, we can still be friends.”
“You still think I’m a vapid Hollywood actress,” she accused, no longer sad but quivering with anger.
“That’s not true.”
“First, you don’t think I’m good enough to marry. And now you’re telling me that you don’t trust me to love you once I have some other options. You know what? Forget everything I said. You’re right. We are different. I’m willing to risk everything, compromise everything, to be with you. And you can’t even stomach the thought of spending Christmas with me,” she said through clenched teeth.
She jumped to her feet and hurried toward the living room, where her dress and underwear still lay on the floor. Her heart broke a little as the scattered clothing reminded her of last night, of the way she had felt last night. She had known Wyatt was saying goodbye then, but she had ignored her own intuition.
“Quinn,” he said softly, coming behind her.
She whirled around to face him. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again. What was last night about? One last screw for old time’s sake?”
His eyes were bright with unshed tears. “You know that’s not true.”
She told herself not to beg. Quinn Sibley didn’t beg, but then she said, “I am standing here with my heart open to you. Don’t throw this in my face.”
“It’s better this happens now, Quinn, before we get too close.”
“I’m already close, you bastard,” she screamed. She turned her back to him to yank on her clothes. She threw the robe on the sofa, then slipped on her shoes.
Wyatt still watched her, with a ravaged expression. She almost thought that he was in as much pain as she was, but it wasn’t possible because her heart was falling apart. Breaking into one hundred pieces.
“Quinn, please try to understand. I’m doing this for you. You deserve someone like you. Someone like Vaughn. He can fit in your world. I would just…I don’t know anything but Sibleyville and dead people. I would embarrass you. If you ever looked at me with shame in your eyes, I…I just think it’s better to end this now.”
“I tried so hard to be different than what everyone thought, what I even thought,” she said, attempting to speak through her tears. “And I just can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of trying. I’ve never been more tired in my life. I love you, Wyatt.”
He inhaled as if he had been punched in the gut. “No, you don’t. You think you do—”
“Don’t tell me what I believe,” she warned through clenched teeth. “I love you, Wyatt. And if you’re too scared to admit that you love me back, then you’re not the man I thought you were.” He watched her for a moment, then averted his gaze, as if he could not look at her anymore.
Quinn laughed, even though there was nothing funny. She swiped at her tears, then whispered, “I hope you get that white picket fence and the babies. There has to be some woman out there safe enough for you love.”
He still wouldn’t look at her. She thought about jumping up and down or screaming to force him to say something. But she couldn’t do anything but walk out the apartment and down the stairs toward her car. It was going to be a long drive home.
“Merry Christmas,” Charlie and Graham sang in unison as Quinn walked into the house.
Quinn accepted her sister’s hug, with a forced smile, then hugged Graham. Quinn gave herself much more credit for her acting skills because neither Charlie nor Graham noticed that she had been crying.
“Where’s Wyatt? We thought he’d come over with you,” Graham said.
“He’ll be by later,” Quinn said with a bright smile.
The sound of glass crashing caused Quinn to turn to the living room. Kendra was precariously perched on the top of the living room coffee table, swinging her arms around while singing to “Jingle Bell Rock.” She held a tall glass of eggnog in one hand and was sending eggnog flying across the living room the more she gyrated to the music.
“Ignore her,” Graham said to Quinn. “She’s been swilling eggnog for the last two hours and I think I saw her eat a cookie. I don’t think her body knows how to handle the sugar.”
“Y’know, Graham, it really annoys me when you talk about me like I’m not here,” Kendra slurred in reply.
“How about some nice, strong, black coffee?” Quinn said to Kendra.
“I could use something nice, strong and black. And it sure as hell ain’t coffee,” Kendra shot back. Graham coughed over his laughter, while Charlie frowned in concern.
Kendra began to dance again. Charlie and Quinn ducked a missile of eggnog headed towards them. “Graham, put on the Motown Christmas album. I want to hear some Temptations and Jackson Five. Did I ever tell you guys that I can moonwalk? Watch!”
Kendra jumped off the coffee table and collapsed onto the floor. Kendra laughed uproariously, then drained the rest of her glass that had remained mostly full.
“You two, get the coffee, and I’ll make certain she’s not bleeding,” Graham muttered.
Quinn and Charlie walked into the kitchen. The smell of dessert and dinner mingled in the small kitchen. For some reason, those smells made Quinn want to cry even more. She would never survive Christmas dinner, especially sitting across from Wyatt, since he and his mother always spent Christmas with the Forbes.
Quinn shook her head and grabbed a mug from the drying rack on the counter to pour a cup of coffee for Kendra.
“At this rate, Kendra will be passed out by lunchtime,” Quinn said, grateful that her voice didn’t crack from the emotion she was clamping down.
“I think that’s her plan. I’m really worried about her,” Charlie said quietly.
Quinn’s laughter faded. “Kendra is just blowing off steam. She lives like a monk three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. So, she drinks alcohol and eats a little sugar—”
“I’m not talking about today, although it is concerning that she can’t spend a sober Christmas with her family. I’m just worried about her, period. She’s out there in New York, by herself, without any support. She never mentions any friends or boyfriends, and whenever I try to ask her about her personal life, she changes the subject or ignores me.”
“You worry too much. Kendra is fine.”
“She’s not fine, Quinn. She got blackballed by the entire financial industry last year, and she still hasn’t been able to find a job. My God, it’s Christmas morning and she’s stumbling drink. And have you noticed how late she’s been sleeping? The old Kendra never slept past five o’clock in the morning. I’ve been having to drag out her out of bed at eleven.”
Quinn studied Charlie’s worried expression and said softly, “If something is wrong, Kendra would never tell us. All we can do is just be there for her, and let her know that we’re here if she ever needs to talk.” Quinn poured cof
fee into another mug, then realized that Charlie was staring at her with a shocked expression. “What?”
Charlie shook her head confused then said, “That’s right.”
“What’s right?”
“What you said about being there for Kendra. You just said something that made sense and was reasonable and wasn’t related to your acting career or your weight.”
“Is that what you think of me? That I only talk about things related to my acting career or my weight?” Quinn whispered, almost as hurt as she had been by Wyatt.
Charlie looked momentarily guilty before she said, “Well…yes, actually.”
“I’m not like that, and I’m sick of everyone saying that!” Quinn slammed the mug on the counter, then cried out when specks of hot coffee flew on her hand.
Now she had a reason to cry at the sting of pain on the back of her hand. Charlie quickly ran over and tugged Quinn to the faucet where she turned on cold water. She massaged Quinn’s hand and held it under the cold water.
Quinn sniffed and studied her hand as if her life depended on it because Charlie was studying her.
A few moments later, Charlie turned off the faucet and closely inspected Quinn’s hand. There were two pinpoint spots of red on her honey skin. Charlie made soothing noises, then pulled calamine lotion from a drawer and gently massaged it into Quinn’s skin.
“All better?” Charlie asked softly. Quinn nodded and wiped at her tears. Charlie didn’t release her hand, but held on tighter as she said, “You’re my sister, and nothing you do or say will make me stop loving you, but sometimes…you’re a lot to handle.”
Quinn frowned and stared at Charlie. “I am?”
Charlie hesitated, then said, “Sometimes you can be self-centered. And sometimes you can be one-track about the acting, about your glory days as Sephora. It gets a little old…sometimes.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m a bad person,” Quinn said, close to tears again.
“Of course not, baby,” Charlie said softly. “But it does mean that it takes a lot for someone to know the real Quinn. I know you don’t mean to hurt me when you talk about my perfect, bland marriage to Graham, but it hurts just the same. And I know you think that Kendra can take your insults, but I notice that sometimes you hit a little too close to the heart for her.”
Quinn sniffed, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself. She never meant to hurt her sisters. Okay, sometimes she meant to hurt Kendra, but not any permanent damage. “Charlie, I’m sorry if I hurt you, and I’ll apologize to Kendra, too—”
“You don’t have to apologize. But, maybe—just maybe—it’s time to grow up a little and start thinking about the effect you have on other people, that what you say matters, whether you want it to or not.”
“But who listens to me? I’m just an out-of-work actress. I don’t even have a college degree.”
“You’re somebody, Quinn, whether you’re working or not. And, believe it or not, there is more to life than acting. There’s a whole world out there. It’s why I’m so happy that things are working out with you and Wyatt. I think he’s probably the one man on Earth who can show you that there are other things out there besides acting. I mean, he has gotten you to eat barbecue and French fries. Who else could do that?”
“I’m not changing for any man. If he can’t handle my career—”
“That’s not what I meant, Quinn,” Charlie said with a bemused smile. “I just mean that work can’t be everything because when work goes away, and it will some day either because you get bored with it and decide to tackle something else, or the industry gets bored with you, all you have left is your family. I would have thought you had learned that by now after this last year.”
A loud crash from the other side of the kitchen door caused Charlie to flinch.
“A little help in here” came Graham’s panicked voice followed by Kendra’s maniacal laugh of glee.
Charlie stood, laughing. “Kendra’s coffee.” She walked out the kitchen and Quinn stared at the wall, her sister’s words echoing in her head.
Charlie was right. Quinn had learned a lot over the last year. She had been yelling at Wyatt about taking charge of his life, but she needed to take her own advice. It was time to grow up.
The dining room was so quiet that Wyatt heard the second hand on the grandfather clock in the hallway tick each second away. Beatrice had gone all out for Christmas dinner. She had made a perfect golden turkey, mashed potatoes and dressing, corn bread, green beans, candied yams…. Wyatt didn’t even want to think about the number of desserts he had seen lined up in the kitchen. There was enough food to feed the entire town.
Except the meal was for just her and Wyatt because Wyatt had talked his mother into staying home for Christmas dinner instead of going to the Forbes home as they had done every year since Wyatt had been born. But, then again, the idea of seeing Quinn…Wyatt clenched the fork in his hand even harder as he thought of the look in her eyes when she had walked out of his apartment. He kept telling himself that it had been for the best, but hours later, that mantra was starting to sound hollow to his own ears.
“You haven’t said anything about the food,” Beatrice said, breaking the heavy silence for the first time since they had sat down for dinner.
“It’s delicious, Mom,” he said automatically.
When his mother didn’t respond, he looked up to find her watching him. Beatrice abruptly set down her fork and rubbed her eyes. She looked at him again and demanded, “Are you going to tell me the real reason we aren’t having dinner with the Forbes tonight?”
“I told you, I wanted to have a quiet Christmas,” Wyatt lied. “There’s usually close to forty people over there, and I didn’t want to deal with the mayhem.”
Beatrice studied him for a moment, then said abruptly, “Did I ever tell you that your father lived in New York City for eight weeks?”
Wyatt’s fork clattered to the table. He instantly picked it back up, so the food on the back of the fork would not stain the beige lace tablecloth.
“Dad lived in New York City?” he sputtered. “I thought he spent his whole life in Sibleyville. That’s what he always said.”
“He lied,” she said. “He lived in New York City eight months before we were married and before you were born.”
Wyatt quickly did the math in his head. “I was born—”
“Yes, I was pregnant with you before your father and I got married. Jim and I were dating and one day out of the blue, he comes to me and says, ‘Let’s move to New York City.’ New York City? It was insane. I’d never been outside Sibleyville. To move from here to New York sounded about as realistic as moving from here to the moon.
“I laughed at him. I told him that he was living in a fantasy world if he thought two country hicks like us could survive in New York City. I will never forget the look on his face….” Her voice trailed off and Wyatt realized that there were tears in her eyes. He reached across the table to grab her hand. She squeezed his hand, then continued, “I shouldn’t have laughed at him. I should have listened to him. He said that he wanted to leave, had to leave, to know what was outside Sibleyville. To know what he was like outside of Sibleyville.”
“So, he left without you?”
Beatrice nodded and wiped at her eyes. “He left. Moved to New York. Got a job at an after-school program in Harlem, nothing to do with the funeral business. His parents were furious. His father didn’t speak to him for months. And then I found out I was pregnant….” Her voice trailed off again, and she stared at her plate.
“And Dad came home.”
“He was never the same,” Beatrice whispered. “He tried to pretend that this was the life he wanted. He never complained, but he always said that when you left home, we’d close down the funeral home and buy an RV and drive across America. And…and then he died. So young. He never got the chance.”
“Dad wanted to sell the mortuary?” Wyatt asked in disbelief.
“He hated it.”
“But
, you always told me…he always told me that there was nothing more honorable in life than to help others deal with death.”
“His father told him that,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. “Apparently, your grandfather hated the mortuary business, too, and came up with that little phrase to make himself feel better.”
“What?” Wyatt didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Three generations of Granger men stuck in the funeral business, suffering for the sake of a legacy that no one wanted.
Beatrice reached across the table to stroke Wyatt’s cheek. “You were the only thing that made his life bearable.”
“He loved you, Mom.”
“I know he did, but I will never forgive myself for making him come back here before he got a chance to explore. I made him take over the business because I thought it would make him feel more connected to this town and our life in it, but instead he pulled away from me more and more every day. I didn’t know how much until he died.”
Wyatt just stared at her, unable to focus on the numerous questions swirling around his head to ask just one. His father had hated the funeral business too?
“Jim was so happy when you went away to school and majored in landscape architecture. He thought you were going to finally break free of the Granger tradition.”
“I thought…since he never mentioned it, I thought he was ashamed of me. Angry that I wasn’t planning to take over the business.”
“No, Wyatt. He thought you were brave.”
Wyatt’s eyes watered and he quickly swiped at his tears. “I never knew. All this time I thought…” His voice trailed off and he couldn’t hide the spurt of anger as he demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? You knew how much I hate doing this. I could have gone back to college. I could have opened my own landscape architecture firm in San Francisco or Los Angles…All this time I’ve wasted here.” He reached for a glass of water with a trembling hand and took a swig before he said something he’d regret.
Because I needed you,” Beatrice blurted out. Wyatt looked at her shocked. Even she looked surprised by her admission. She stared at the table as she repeated more softly. “Because I needed you.”