by Harper Bliss
Her mother jerked out of her father’s embrace as though she’d been caught red-handed carrying out the most vicious crime.
“Darling! What a surprise.” She straightened her shirt and walked over. “We weren’t expecting you this weekend. Or did I get the dates wrong?” She curled an arm around Quinn’s shoulders. “Not that it isn’t a delight to see you.” She pecked Quinn on the cheek. Her father must not have told her about talking to Maya on the phone. If he had, Quinn would have received a much frostier welcome from her mother.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Her dad had come over and put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Great to see you.”
“Did you drive? I would have picked you up, you know.” Her mother went into the house.
“I’ll make us some lunch,” her dad said, but remained outside. “I have a feeling I’m the reason you’re here,” he whispered.
“That’s right, Dad,” Quinn said. She was glad that he was the first to acknowledge it.
“I’m sorry about speaking to Maya like that. I don’t know what came over me. I just… got this vision of you in tears and I dealt with it poorly.”
“A vision? Are you clairvoyant now?”
“Whether you like it or not, Quinn, I’m always going to worry about you. I know you’re still fragile about what happened with Morgan.”
“I don’t understand why you keep bringing up Morgan. That’s been over for months. I’m with Maya now.”
Her father walked deeper into the garden. Quinn followed him.
“Are you sure this whole thing with Maya isn’t a reaction to how things ended with Morgan? It would be totally normal for you to… attach yourself to someone kind of familiar like that.”
Quinn hated it when her dad practiced his armchair psychology on her. Of course, he didn’t know what had happened between his daughter and his neighbor ten years ago, and Quinn wasn’t about to tell him.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure, Dad. As sure as I can be at this stage.” She dramatically huffed out some air. “I’m in love with her and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with me. It could just be as simple as that.”
Her dad shook his head. “There’s nothing simple about the whole thing. It’s infinitely complex. I’ve been trying to get my head around it since you told me about Maya, but I can’t figure it out, Quinn. Unless you’re going through a mid-thirties rebellious stage. Although you rebelled plenty already when you were a teenager.” He rubbed his full, gray beard.
“Dad, please stop doing that. Stop analyzing me.”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“Accept it,” Quinn said.
Her dad sighed. “That’s the thing, sweetheart. I’m not sure I can do that.” He shot her a look that didn’t inspire much confidence in Quinn that he might change his mind any time soon—despite what he had claimed when Quinn had first told him about Maya. “Shall we go in? Your mother will be wondering what we’re talking about out here.”
Quinn nodded. There wasn’t much else she could do.
Quinn was lounging in a deck chair outside, enjoying the silence of Milbury and trying not to get too worked up about what her father had said before lunch. She heard noises coming from the house where Maya used to live—the house where it had all started.
“What’s going on, darling?” her mom asked as she sat down in the chair next to Quinn’s. “You arrive home out of the blue. You hardly ate anything at lunch. And there’s this weird vibe between you and your dad that I can’t put my finger on.”
Great. An inquisition by her mother was all Quinn needed. She was still trying to digest what her dad had said to her earlier. For as long as she could remember in her thirty-four years alive, her dad had always given her his unconditional acceptance. No questions asked. Why couldn’t he do it now? Was Quinn expecting too much of him? Or was it him not trying hard enough to give his only daughter the benefit of the doubt?
“All I can say is that… I disappointed him, and he disappointed me. Things are a bit tense because of that.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Mom.” Quinn shook her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Her mother took a deep breath. Then she said, “Is it about Maya?”
Every last one of Quinn’s muscles tensed up. “What? Um, what are you talking about?”
“I know your father spoke to her on the phone earlier this week. He’s been out of sorts ever since. You were with her when he talked to her. I’m just drawing the only logical conclusion that I can.”
Quinn sat up and turned so she could get a better look at her mother’s face. What did she know? Surely her parental powers of deduction weren’t that mighty.
“I gave her your number when she moved to New York and told her to give you a call. I take it she has and that you’ve been in touch. What I don’t understand is what has made both you and your father so upset regarding Maya.”
Quinn relaxed a little. Her mother wasn’t totally in the dark, but she was hardly in the know either. Right now, she was just fishing.
“It’ll blow over,” Quinn lied, because she didn’t know how it could—unless her father relented.
“I sure hope so,” her mom said. “It’s hard to upset your dad like that, especially when it comes to you.” Her mom tried to find Quinn’s gaze, but it was impossible for Quinn to return it. “You can talk to me as well, you know. I always have been and always will be your mother.”
“Mom, it’s just that…” What irked Quinn even more was that her father had lied to her when he’d told her he wanted her to be happy above all else. Maya had been right. He’d been telling her what she wanted to hear at the time. It made Quinn wonder how many times he’d done that in the past instead of telling her how he really felt.
She had come home to try and make some sort of amends but it was looking highly unlikely that was going to happen. Quinn regrouped. “My show opens on Thursday and that’s a huge thing for me. I know this won’t stop Dad from being there.” Not even an out-of-season snowstorm would keep him from being there, Quinn believed. Or did she have to rethink that as well? “But…” Quinn had no idea how to talk to her mother about this. Not without telling her the truth. “Maya will be there as well. There’s a picture of her in the exhibition. I want to enjoy my moment in the spotlight. But the way things stand right now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want your dad to come?” Her mom sounded horrified. To Quinn as well it was unthinkable that her father, her biggest champion since she was born, wouldn’t be there.
“No, of course not. I want you both there, obviously, but… it’s supposed to be a joyous occasion. I’ll be nervous enough without having to worry if Dad’s about to go off on one.”
“But why would he do that, darling? That would be so unlike your father.”
“Because…” Tears stung behind Quinn’s eyes. Oh, what the hell. “I’m in love with her, Mom. I’m in love with Maya. Dad just told me he’s not sure he can ever accept that. And earlier this week, when you heard him on the phone, he gave Maya a piece of his mind.” Quinn pushed her palms against her eyes.
“Wait, darling. Can you repeat that? You’re in love with… Maya? Our old neighbor? That’s the Maya we’re talking about?”
Quinn attempted to dry her eyes and braved a quick glance at her mother. “We fell in love. I thought Dad of all people would understand. But he doesn’t. I do get that he needs some time to process, but that really doesn’t give him the right to speak to Maya so disrespectfully. And… I just hate feeling like this. I don’t know what to do about it. It’s not as if I can will myself to stop loving her because of you guys. Because she used to live next door.”
Her mother had gone a touch pale. She swallowed hard. “You and Maya?” She shook her head. “Are you pulling some sort of elaborate prank on us?”
Quinn tried to exhale slowly to regain her composure. “I’m sorry. This is really not how I want
ed you to find out about this.”
Her mom held up both her hands. “I don’t want to know about this at all.” She straightened her spine. “Don’t tell me anything else.” She stood. “You have a knack for pushing the envelope, but this time you’ve really gone too far.” The ice in her mother’s voice cut Quinn much deeper than she thought possible. Without saying another word, her mom disappeared into the house.
Quinn didn’t hold back the tears any longer. Why would she? She was all alone out there.
Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she had gone too far. She sobbed into her hands until she felt she’d depleted all the moisture in her body. She skulked through the house, picked up her overnight bag where she’d dropped it earlier, and left quietly through the front door.
Chapter 39
This was not the Quinn Maya had come to know. She was even more obsessed with her phone than usual, hoping for word from Bill or Brooke. It had been two days since she’d come back from Milbury in tears. Maya was beginning to think she’d have to intervene. She felt like she needed to do something to help Quinn, not only because it was awful to see her suffer like that, but also because, professionally, this was the most important week of Quinn’s life so far.
She was having a solo exhibition in a gallery of quite some repute—a surge or pride had coursed through Maya when she’d looked it up and found out about the esteem the gallery was held in for discovering the next big artist. Surely Bill and Brooke would come around by Thursday?
Meanwhile, Maya had been so focused on her own family’s reaction to Quinn, she’d been so busy expecting the worst for herself, that she hadn’t spent enough time trying to talk Quinn out of driving all the way to Milbury in a huff last Saturday. She’d had a hunch it was a bad idea, especially because Quinn was doing it out of anger more than a desire to reconcile.
Maya hadn’t wanted to play the age card and tell Quinn that experience had taught her doing something out of anger was seldom a good idea, but, in hindsight, she should have done just that. Because now all four of them, Quinn and Maya but also Bill and Brooke, didn’t know what to do with themselves.
Quinn sat at the kitchen island typing furiously on her phone. Maya had no idea what she did on that too-small device all day long, but Tommy and Beth were exactly the same. Maybe that was why neither one of them had even mentioned Quinn this weekend when Maya had gone over to babysit Ethan—they’d been too busy living their lives, their real ones, and also the ones that existed on their phones. No wonder they were so exhausted all the time.
Maya walked over to Quinn and put a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a break from that thing?” she asked.
Quinn put her phone away as though all she’d needed was someone to tell her to do so.
“There’s a surprising amount of press,” Quinn said. “Imogen from the gallery is getting all excited about the pre-opening buzz.”
“It’s not every day you have Quinn Hathaway’s art on display in your gallery.” Maya squeezed Quinn’s shoulder.
Quinn let her head fall back against Maya’s belly. She heaved a deep sigh. “What if they don’t come?” Her tone was defeated, as though her only choice was to accept that the worst might very well happen—that her own parents wouldn’t show up for her moment of glory because they didn’t agree with who their daughter loved.
“There’s just no way.” Maya spoke from her own experience as a parent again. Regardless of not having a rebellious bone in his body, Tommy had managed to get under Maya’s skin quite a few times in his life, but it would never have stopped Maya from wanting to be with him when something significant happened. She couldn’t think of anything he might do that could keep her away.
She understood Bill and Brooke’s reaction better than she admitted out loud to Quinn, but she also knew that they loved their daughter no matter what and that they were the kind of people who would want to share this special moment with her. Bill would be there beaming with pride and Brooke would probably be going around the room telling everyone who wanted to hear—and everyone who didn’t—that she was the artist’s mother.
But Maya could presume all she wanted; people could still surprise you. She was especially surprised by Bill’s refusal to call his daughter. Because he usually called her every day, it meant something when he didn’t. And it hurt Quinn so very much. Maya hated being the source of so much suffering.
“I could try to talk to them,” Maya offered. It would be awkward and horrible, but she would do it for Quinn. She would brave Bill and Brooke Hathaway’s chagrin. Because at least this crappy ordeal had made something very clear to her: she wanted to be with Quinn and she was willing to fight for that. At least against the Hathaways. She would deal with her own family when the time came—one battle at a time.
“And say what?” Quinn asked.
“Just listen to what they have to say, for starters.” Maya imagined Quinn had been too angry to really listen to her father’s arguments.
“I don’t want them getting into your head.” Quinn slipped off the chair and faced Maya.
“That’s the last thing you need to worry about right now.” Maya cupped Quinn’s cheeks in her hands. “They can’t get into my head. It’s not possible. It’s too full of you.” Maya smiled. “You have my word.”
“People’s word isn’t worth that much to me right now.”
“I hope mine is.”
Quinn nodded. “Your word is sacred to me.” She managed a wry smile. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Then let me help you. I hate seeing you like this. You should only be nervous about your show right now, not about your family.”
“I can’t believe he hasn’t called.” Quinn’s voice broke. “He must be so fucking pissed at me. Or maybe Mom’s mad at him, although that has never stopped him before.”
“Not hearing from them is driving you crazy.” Maya’s determination grew. In a way, she had caused this. Maybe she was the only one who could make it better. “What’s the worst that can happen if I call your mother?” Maya shrugged, trying to look more casual than she felt. “She could hang up on me, but we already have her silence.”
As the phone rang, Maya wondered which emotions were going through her old friend Brooke as she saw who was calling. Rage? Defiance? Unadulterated motherly wrath? Maybe Brooke was considering if she should pick up at all. Maya ignored her own emotions. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to have this conversation.
When Brooke picked up there was a brief silence on the other end of the line before she said, “Maya?”
“Hi, Brooke. How are you?” It was an automatic question. It was what you asked the person you’d called. Maya hadn’t prepared a bunch of arguments to support why it was okay for her to be with Brooke’s daughter. She just wanted to break this wretched stand-off the Hathaways were in. She wanted joyful Quinn back, who showed her the tattoo on her side whenever she felt like it—which was often, Maya had learned, and not always in an appropriate environment.
Brook didn’t immediately reply. It was both easier and harder to do this over the phone. Maya would have liked to be able to see Brooke’s face but she was also glad she didn’t have to deal with the possible disapproval plastered all over it. At least she had picked up and hadn’t hung up instantly. Brooke probably wanted to find a way out of this as well, but pretending it wasn’t happening wasn’t going to solve anything.
Brooke’s silence continued.
“Look.” Maya decided to fill the gap. “I know you’re upset, and I understand that very well, but Quinn just wants to know if you and Bill are coming to her show on Thursday.”
“If Quinn wants to know something, she should call us herself.” Brooke sounded clipped. “Or maybe she shouldn’t have snuck out of the house like a thief in the night. She just left without saying a word to us.”
“She was upset.”
“So were we.”
“I know, Brooke. But Quinn’s miserable. Bill hasn’t called her and she
doesn’t know what to do with herself.”
“Maybe she should have thought of that before she took up with you. Or maybe you could have thought about the consequences, Maya. Why didn’t you? That’s what I’d like to know. Do you really expect us to simply accept that you and Quinn are a couple now? The whole thing is simply preposterous.”
“I don’t expect you to accept it just like that at all.” Maya tried to keep calm, even though this was one of the most difficult conversations she’d ever had. And the question Brooke had just asked her was one she hadn’t entirely resolved for herself yet either. “I know it’s difficult to hear.” Maya could hardly tell Quinn’s mother that life was for living, not for judging your daughter with whom she’d fallen so madly in love. “It’s awkward and hard to understand.” It helped that Maya could genuinely empathize with Brooke on this. “It’s most certainly not what you want to hear, but… none of that makes it less true. We can’t change how we feel.”
“I beg to differ,” Brooke said drily. “Maybe Quinn is too pigheaded to even try, but you…” Brooke turned the accusation in her tone up a notch. “Why didn’t you stop it? You’re not even gay, Maya. Are you doing this to spite us for some reason? If so, why? What did Bill and I ever do to you except be good neighbors?”
It’s got nothing to do with you, Maya wanted to shout down the phone, but that wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I tried to stop it,” Maya said truthfully. “I really did, Brooke. I didn’t want this. Not at first. I felt exactly how you feel right now. Believe me, I tried so hard to stop it, but I couldn’t. Quinn is…” Maya stopped herself. She wasn’t about to explain to Brooke how amazing she thought her daughter to be. “I know I should have been the wiser one, but, in the end, we’re two adults choosing to be with each other, and there isn’t anything wrong with that.” A ripple of unexpected pride coursed through Maya for saying that out loud—for standing up for their love.
“And we just have to accept it?” Brooke scoffed.