“I know it is. Just like I knew you’d never walk away from Quinn.”
“Then why’d you do it? Why’d you give me that dumb ultimatum if you didn’t think I’d do what you wanted?”
“I was just so scared that you were ruining your chance for a good future, Benny. But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t condone it, Ben. I couldn’t. My entire adult life has been spent taking care of you. You don’t even realize that my whole identity is wrapped up in how well I took care of you. If you failed, I failed, Benny.”
“I’m not failing, Ma. I’m doing really well,” I say. “School’s going great. I just sold some of my work, and I’m happy Mom, I really am. I wish you could see that.”
“I’m glad that things are working out for you now, Ben. And no, I haven’t always agreed with your choices. I wish you would have made different ones. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. I wish you would have chosen someone else. Someone who does the right thing. Someone who gets along with your family. Someone who challenges you—”
I can’t help but laugh, because one thing that Quinn does every single day is challenge me.
“Don’t laugh, Ben. The choices you’ve made wouldn’t have been the ones that I would have made for you, but I am proud of you. I am.” And her words may not seem like much to anyone else, but to me, I know that my mom is opening her perfectly crafted world just a little to the idea that Quinn is here to stay. At least I hope she is.
And in that moment, my mind flashes to Carter seeing Caroline and I together, and I just hope to God I get the chance to explain it all to her before he says anything.
“Thanks, Ma.”
“I’ve got to go get dressed. Brunch in an hour,” she says. She hugs me again. “One hour, Benny.”
I wait until Mom has left the room and pull my phone out of my pocket. I don’t take the time to calculate what time it is in Quinn’s end of the world before it’s already ringing.
And this time, I’m the one talking to a voicemail box.
“Hey, doll. I don’t know what time it is there, but it’s Christmas morning here and I miss you so damn much today. I hope you’re having an amazing time, and I can’t wait to see you. Love you, baby.” She’s just busy. Or sleeping. But I have to believe Carter didn’t tell her.
“Are you all packed?” Amalea asks.
“I think so,” I say. I mailed several boxes of wine, balsamic vinegar, and books back to the States earlier in the week, so I’m down to just my one, red suitcase. Same as when I started, but I’m so completely different.
“Are you ready?”
I trace the stitching on the quilt that I’ve been sleeping under for the last month. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to leave this place— or ready to leave Amalea.
“I guess, but the train doesn’t leave for another three hours,” I say.
“Sciocchezza!” Amalea says. She throws her hands up. “No train for you. I will take you to Rome.”
“No way. That’s over a two hour drive,” I say, shaking my head. “You don’t have to do that. The train is fine.”
“I know that I don’t have to, Quinn. I want to.” I can’t believe they’re the same words Ben said to me at the airport.
“Okay. I’d love that, thank you.” I smile. “Is Davide coming along for the ride, too?” I slip in his name, because Amalea hasn’t mentioned him since they spent Christmas Eve together.
Amalea cuts her eyes at me. “You stupid girl.” She laughs. It’s not my favorite nickname, but at least I know it’s meant to be endearing.
We load my luggage into her small Fiat, make a stop at the Pasticcceria at the bottom of the hill so that I can buy Shayna these darling cookies that look like real peaches that I saw my first day in town and make our way to Rome.
The drive is beautiful, full of rolling hills and dotted with ancient ruins. I wish I would have gotten out to see more while I was here, but there will be a next time. This time was for cooking and learning, and finding out just how much I can do on my own. I’ve already promised Amalea that I’ll be back, with Ben.
I decide to call Ben once more before we get to the airport. I should be furious that I haven’t been able to talk to him as much as I want, but with the crappy signal in Spello, and the time change, I guess it’s forgivable. But he’s going to owe me when I get back home. And the thought of being back in his arms, in our bed, is enough to smooth the frayed nerves.
“Baby?” My heart goes tachycardic at the sound of his voice. It isn’t until I’d hear it again that I realize just how much I’ve missed it.
“Ben, oh, god I’m so glad to hear your voice. I’m on my way to the airport right now and I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you!” I cram it all into one excited breath.
“You—no—miss—too.” His voice cuts in and out and I could cry out of frustration.
“I can’t hear you. I’m in the car on the way to the airport. Damn hills!”
“I’ll—you—soon—love.”
“Fuck,” I say. Amalea gives me a disapproving glance, and I hang up the phone, feeling defeated.
“I finally get him on the phone and the service is complete and total shit again! Sorry, crap.”
“You’ll see him soon.”
“How about you? When will you see your man again?” I’m pressing my luck, I know. Amalea may leave me in the Italian countryside without a map if I keep it up.
“Things are not so simple for Davide and I as they are for you and your Ben.”
I laugh. “Things are never simple with Ben. I just love him too much to walk away, I guess.”
Amalea shrugs. “I think Davide and I are more complicated still.”
“Are you saying you can’t work things out with Davide?”
Amalea considers her words for a minute. “I’m staying I don’t know yet. Sometimes life hands you jagged pieces to the puzzle, Quinn. They won’t fit together no matter how hard you try.”
“But you love him,” I say matter-of-factly, feeling like the romantic sap I’m definitely not.
Amalea shrugs her delicate shoulders. “In a perfect, neat world, love should be all that matters. But sometimes, it’s not. Sometimes it’s hard too hard to hold all of the pieces together.”
The Quinn of last year would agree with her. That love is too complicated. That hearts are worth protecting at any cost. But right now, on my way home to see Ben, I don’t believe any of those things, and I have to bite my tongue. I want Amalea to be happy, and I hope that Davide will fight for her like I think he will. It may just take time.
The ride takes longer than we had anticipated, and I’m left with a quick, curbside good-bye. It’s probably better that way. I’ve always been terrible with good-byes.
“I think you should try. With Davide, I mean,” I say.
I lean in to kiss Amalea’s cheeks, but she pulls me in for a tight embrace instead.
“I love you, stupid girl,” she says. And I cry harder than I have during any good-bye I can remember.
I want to tell Amalea all of the things that this trip has meant to me. The words climb up my throat, trying to string themselves into the perfect arrangement, before dissolving and slinking back down. Unspoken.
I learned to how to cook wild boar sauce in Italy. I learned how to make pasta and a perfectly crusty ciabatta. But from Amalea, I learned far more important lessons. I learned sfogliatelle is quite possibly the most labor intensive food I’ve ever prepared—but like most things, worth the effort. I learned that Grappa never goes down smooth, no matter what you eat with it. And I learned that letting go of guilt can open the door to happiness and second chances
“I love you. More,” I say.
I hang up with Quinn, grinning like a jackass. I have no clue whether or not she could hear a word that I was saying, but hearing her voice again, knowing that she’s on her way home—nothing else matters.
“That was Quinn?” Caroline asks, standing in the doorway to my old roo
m. I straighten my smile a bit so I look a little less like a fool.
“Yep,” I say. I carefully pack my camera in my bag and set it on the edge of my bed along with my duffel. “Listen, Linney, I’m heading home today, but I don’t want you to think that that means that I’m not here for you.”
Her shoulders curl in and she gives a disappointed frown.
“Mom said that your parents are working on a restraining order and that you may be able to go home soon, and I’m always a call away, you know that right?”
“Will Quinn let you call me?” she asks.
It’s a valid question, I guess, but the acid-laced tone Caroline wraps it up in catches me off guard.
“I’m sure she’ll understand. Once I have a chance to explain it to her.”
“And if she doesn’t? Then what am I supposed to do?”
I let the question rewind and repeat in my head a few times, trying to come up with a suitable answer.
“Linney, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.” I pull her in for a quick hug and feel her body go slack in my arms. She’s relaxed, and I’m reminded of what she said the other day in the restaurant. This feels safe. I pull her in tighter and rest my chin on top of her head. I don’t know what more I can do for her, but right now, this appears to be enough.
“Benny, you forgot to pack th—” Mom interrupts, holding my Kindle.
Caroline pulls away and walks out of the room, not taking her eyes off of the floor.
“Thanks, Ma,” I say, stashing the e-reader into my carry-on. “It was good to see you and Pop.”
“You too. I’m glad you came. I really didn’t know what I was going to do, my first Christmas without my boy around.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes that it’s not true. Because last year, I missed Christmas with her. Last year, I was with my girl.
“Maybe next year we can all be together,” I say.
Mom doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t spit in my face either, so I’ll call it progress.
“Listen, I’m going to take a shower before I leave for the airport.” I can’t wait to be back in California. I should beat Quinn in by several hours, enough time to make it home and change and make sure the apartment is clean. I don’t remember how it looked when I left, I ran out in such a hurry to get to Atlanta. It seems like months, not days, since I was in our home, eating crappy food, alone. I was so miserable that last day in town, but now I can’t wait to get back.
“Don’t forget to say good-bye to your dad and me. And re-pack that bag, it looks terrible,” Mom says. I laugh as I glance down at my duffel, crammed full of unfolded clothes. I was hardly able to zip the damn thing.
“Sure thing, Ma.” I kiss her cheek before she walks away.
I gather up a fresh change of clothes, turn the shower to scalding hot and step inside. I tip my head back into the heavy stream of water and let my mind wander to how much I’m looking forward to having my shower mate back when Quinn and I are home again.
“Ben?” Caroline’s voice interrupts my thoughts at the worst possible time.
I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I rasp out.
Do I peer out from behind the curtain? Do I turn off the water?
“I know it’s weird that I’m in here, we haven’t— I mean, it’s probably not appropriate. You’re just leaving and this just couldn’t wait.”
Linney and I never had sex when we were together—or ever. It’s not like I’m a total prude, we did other things. We’ve seen each other naked. But she’s right, her being in here is not the best idea.
“What’s up, Linney? I’ll be out in just a second.”
“I just want you to know that you have options. I mean, I know you say you’re happy there in California, but we were happy once, too.”
“Linney—”
“Just let me finish. I know your mom doesn’t like Quinn like she loves me. And it’d make your life so much easier if you had someone in it that got along with her, right?”
She’s right. My life would be easier. But would it be better?
“And we’ve known each other forever. We always got along. The only reason we broke up in the first place is because you moved here. But I can move here. Or wherever you are. I don’t care. Because you’re good for me…and you’re safe…and I miss you.” Her voice changes. Desperation clings to each word.
“I can’t just stay here, Linney. I have a life there. I have school. And a job. And an apartment and Quinn. I have Quinn there.”
“But I need you, Ben. God I need you. The last few days are the safest I’ve felt in months.”
I feel like the asshole of the century talking to her through a shower curtain, but I don’t know what else to do. I want to be there for Caroline, but I can’t be her savior. I can’t. What the fuck did I do? I brought every bit of this on myself. I thought that coming here would help Caroline, but it’s made things into an even bigger mess, one that I can’t save her from.
Quinn was right. Of course she was. Linney wants more, maybe she always will.
“You could just stay,” she says. Her voice is small and wounded and I want to pull the shower curtain back and tell her it’s going to be okay and that things will calm down and work out for her. That I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to do it for her. But the reality is, I’m standing her wet and naked and my doing that would straighten any blurry line that I’ve been straddling by being in Atlanta in the first place.
“I love you, Ben. I never did stop loving you. You know that, I told you last year. And once upon a time, you loved me, too,” she says.
I did love her once. And the feeling to protect her and be there for her didn’t just disappear, even if it’s wrong.
The curtain moves and Linney is there. And it’s wrong in so many different ways. She ignores the stream of water, soaking her clothes and making them stick to her skin in a way that I shouldn’t even be noticing. She stands on her tip toes and catches my earlobe between her teeth— something she knows I’ve never been able to resist.
“Just stay,” she whispers.
I feel like I’ve been sitting here for hours, but it’s probably been more like twenty minutes. I slide my iPhone out of my pocket and check the time, and to see if Ben has called. Again. He hasn’t.
LA has a shit ton of traffic¸ I get it. But I haven’t seen him in a month, we’ve barely talked on the phone, and I sort of just had this idea that there would be this cinematic reunion once I got passed the baggage claim.
But instead, it’s just me.
Sitting curbside outside of the airport, waiting for his familiar car to pull up. But it doesn’t.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” I say to Carter as he tosses my suitcase into the back of his Jeep.
“No sweat, Quinnlette. How was it?” He’s beaming back at me and I am so happy that someone is here and glad to see me.
“Amazing. Obviously. Where’s Ben?”
Carter glances over his shoulder before he pulls out into traffic and ignores my question.
“Carter?” I press. Heat simmers under my skin. What is going on? I search my memory for what I might have said wrong--done wrong--to make him not be here to pick me up after four weeks away.
“What, your brother isn’t good enough? I see how it is,” Carter jokes.
Carter rubs his palm on the back of his neck and looks everywhere but at me.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Fuck Ben for putting me in the situation that I have to be the one to tell you this, because I like the asshole, but you’re my sister—”
“Carter. Tell me.” I feel tears prickle in the corners of my eyes. He hasn’t even answered my question yet, but all sorts of things are flying through my mind that all involved Ben realizing what a loser I am, and packing his bags.
“He went to spend the holidays with his parents,” Carter finally says. He blows out a deep breath, but doesn’t look relieved to have that out of the way.
“Oh,” I say. I jerk my head
back in surprise that that’s all he was worried about telling me. I’m surprised Ben didn’t tell me, but I’m glad he went home to see his family after all.
“But, I thought he didn’t end up going with you?”
“He didn’t. Shay and I left on our own. We ran into him though, in Atlanta.” He says it in a leading way, like he’s baiting me to ask more, and it makes my stomach churn.
“Cool, did you guys hang out? Did he come to the house?” I know that’s not what Carter is getting at. I know it. But I still hope it’s something as simple as that.
He shakes his head and turns down our street.
“Shay and I went down to Little Five Points to grab a slice of White Pizza,” he pauses to glance over at me, “I know it’s not pizza in Napoli, but it was damn good, you know.”
“I get it, pizza…back to Ben.”
“So, we were sort of surprised to see him there.”
“With his parents?”
Carter gives a sharp, quick shake of his head.
“Who?”
“I didn’t recognize her, but Shay said she looked familiar. He seemed really…awkward. Maybe worried that we saw him? I don’t know how to explain it. He definitely wasn’t himself, though. He introduced her to us, and she was nice enough.”
“Who?” I press. My hands are shaking. A surge of heat under my skin rages through me. What the hell is Ben doing?
“Caroline,” Carter says. He says it with regret, like he pities me and that makes my guttural rage and sadness take over every fiber of me. “He said he’d to be back last night, but I never saw him. When you called, I stopped by your apartment to see if he’d just overslept, but he wasn’t there, either.”
“I understand,” I say.
“I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say. My voice is becoming softer, weaker, it feels like the air has been sucked out of my lungs, leaving me struggling to breath and the world spinning out of control.
Because of her.
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