“Is something wrong?” Quinn jogged a few steps to catch up to him, and he ordered his heart to stop pounding. He’d seen the disapproval in his father’s eyes, clear as day. All these years, all these awards—heck, even his race today—had done nothing to sway the old man.
Grady would never be good enough to make up for what had happened on that mountain so long ago.
“No, I’m fine.” He was pretty sure she knew he was lying. “Just really wish I had a reason not to go to lunch.”
The coaches were huddled near the judges’ table, and since it was the last qualifying race of the season, everyone important was there. They’d all seen him ski. And he’d been flawless. He’d never felt so good up on the slopes in his life.
He’d let go of any delusion that he was in control, and before he took off, he handed the whole thing over to God. “You take control,” he’d whispered. And just like Jaden said, Grady felt like he was floating—flying.
Was it a coincidence that it seemed like someone else was skiing through him? He didn’t think so, not that he could ever articulate that feeling to anyone else. They’d think he was crazy.
“Great job today, Grady.” Brian left the huddle and shook Grady’s hand. “Real proud of how you turned everything around here lately.”
“Thank you, sir. I know we’ve had our differences, and I made a real mess of things, but I’m back, and I’m feeling better than ever. Hoping I can show you more of my best at the games next month.”
“I know you’re anxious for the results,” Brian said. “If I’m not making any objections, I don’t think anyone else will either. I can’t say this officially yet, but I think you pulled it off.”
Grady let out a relieved breath that mixed with laughter as he pumped Brian’s hand more enthusiastically than he’d meant to. “I will not let you down, Coach.”
Brian raised a brow. “You better not.” He glanced at Quinn and smiled. “Both hands.”
Grady watched as the coach walked back to the huddle. He turned to Quinn. “Did you hear that?”
Her face was glowing. “I heard.”
He scooped her up and spun her around, then drew her in for a much-needed kiss. “Man, I missed you.” He took her face in his hands and memorized the way she looked, wishing they could just stay there, basking in the glow of good news, a race that finally went his way, and the promise of more kisses to carry him through the evening.
But the thick, dark cloud that gathered overhead threatened to pull him in. The knowledge that his family was there, waiting for him—it turned him inside out.
He pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to go in there.”
“They’re your family. They seem nice.”
He pulled away and took her hand, leading her off in the direction of the resort. “Did you catch the death stare from my father?”
Quinn grimaced. “I feel like there’s a story there?”
“Let’s just say there’s a reason we don’t speak.” Grady pulled the door open and let Quinn go in first. “Listen, can I just offer a preemptive apology?”
She laughed. “For what?”
“For whatever happens,” Grady said. “It’s never good, and it’s usually embarrassing. Just consider yourself warned.”
“I don’t have to come along. I can go back to my room and read for a while or something.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “I need you.”
She softened at his words, and he realized he’d never said them to her before. He’d been holding back the truth of what he felt, but now didn’t seem like the best time to get into it.
Instead, he leaned down, kissed her forehead, and drew a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever came next.
He walked in and found his parents sitting at a large round table near the windows overlooking the mountains. Quinn squeezed his hand, and they approached the table. Grady sat next to Benji, and Quinn next to him, beside Grady’s mom.
How he would get through this lunch without a drink, he had no idea.
Commence small talk.
Grady had little use for small talk, but what other choice did they have? It wasn’t like they were going to delve into anything that really mattered.
They grilled Quinn for a while, and Mom pretended to be engrossed in the life of a florist. Grady joked that maybe his community service wasn’t such a bad thing at all, which, of course, Dad didn’t appreciate.
In all, the man had said maybe five words. “Pass the butter” and “No thanks.”
It was Benji who kept the conversation moving forward. Thank God for Benji. “Looks like things are going really well, Gray,” Benji said. “I’m glad for you.”
“How’ve you been?” Grady asked his brother. “Keeping busy? How’s the coaching going?”
Benji took a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Actually, I had an idea I wanted to run by you.”
“Okay.” Grady caught his mom’s eye. She looked almost afraid for whatever Benji was about to say.
“Have you thought at all about what you’re going to do after the games?”
Grady laughed, took a swig of his iced tea. “Considering I just found out there’s going to be an Olympic Games for me, no. I haven’t thought of much else the last few weeks.”
Benji nodded. “I get that. But I was thinking . . .”
“Oh, Benji, just ask him,” Mom said.
“Ask me what?” Grady glanced at Quinn, who looked as intrigued as he felt.
“I was thinking we should open a training center,” Benji said. “You and me.”
Grady frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You must’ve thought about coaching,” Benji said. “After you retire.”
Grady shrugged. “I guess, maybe.” After all, he’d really enjoyed coaching Jaden before his wipeout, and Quinn had said he was a good coach. But Benji had limited mobility, and there was only so much good a coach could do without getting out on the slopes himself.
“Think about it—we could have ski camps and training programs and raise up the next generation of skiers,” Benji said.
Grady’s eyes scanned the table. His mother and Quinn were both looking down, but his father—his eyes were fixed squarely on him.
“I’ve already started working with some young skiers, really promising kids, Gray—they’re incredible,” Benji said. “We could provide nutrition consulting and strength training. Maybe Happy would come on board. It could be the premier training facility in the country.”
“Benj, I think it’s a great idea, I’m just not sure how it would work.”
Benji shook his head. “What do you mean? With your name recognition? We could really make a go of this. A lot of athletes start coaching after they retire.”
“But I’m not retiring,” Grady said.
“Well, yeah, but after the games?”
Grady didn’t want to think about after the games. He wanted to focus on the next challenge in front of him, take it all one thing at a time.
“I figure while you’re there, you could put some feelers out, get some investors, maybe a sponsor or two.” Benji had certainly put a lot of thought into this.
“Benj, not to state the obvious, but how are you going to coach serious skiers?” Grady hated that he had to ask.
Benji’s face fell. “I understand a lot about the sport, Grady.”
“I know, man. Of course you do.”
“The kids I’ve been coaching, they are serious skiers. Yeah, they’re disabled, but we’ve got our eyes set on the Paralympics.”
“The Paralympics?” Grady sat with it for a minute, trying to wrap his head around the idea. He’d never considered going into business with his brother.
“It’s a big deal, Grady,” Benji said. “To be able to offer traditional coaching for kids who can walk and a whole para program? There’s nothing out there like it.”
“I’ve gotta think about all of this,” Grady said. “After I get home, we’ll talk, okay? But first I n
eed to make it through the next few weeks of training and traveling and competing.”
From across the table, his dad scoffed.
“What was that for?” Grady heard something inside him snap.
Dad looked at Benji. “I told you he wouldn’t go for it.”
“I’m not saying no. I’m just trying to figure out how this is going to work or if this is even what I want.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Dad’s fork fell onto the plate with a plunk. “You’ve had a whole life of getting what you want. What about your brother?”
“Of course I want Benji to have what he wants—that’s all I’ve ever worked for. That’s why these games are so important.”
“Don’t try to sell that line here, Son.”
“It’s the truth.”
“We’ve all seen the stories about your fast life. Don’t pretend you live this way for anybody but yourself.”
“Is that what this is really about, Dad?” Grady dropped his silverware on the table. “You still blame me for what happened, don’t you?”
“You guys, stop,” Benji said. “It was a long time ago—can we leave the past in the past, please?”
“It’s not the past, Benji,” Dad said. “Not when you’re still living in that chair every single day.” His glare lasered in on Grady. “And you think throwing money at him will make it all right.”
“What else do you want me to do? I can’t take it back. I’ve apologized a thousand times. I’ve spent my life trying to make Benji’s dream come true, and you still can’t stand to look at me.” Grady pushed his plate away and stood. “When will it ever be enough?”
He stood frozen as the air turned thick. Then, knowing his father wouldn’t respond, he stormed out of the restaurant and into the parking lot, aware of the attention he drew as he did.
He didn’t care. He was tired of paying for the past.
And yet, somehow he felt like a lifelong penance was exactly what he deserved.
CHAPTER
38
QUINN SAT STILL AS A STATUE at the table with Grady’s family.
His “preemptive apology” wasn’t so off base after all. Clearly there was a painful history here, and she felt like an intruder sitting in the middle of it all.
“Why did you have to do that?” Charlene dabbed her eyes with her napkin.
“I told you this was a bad idea.” Randall pressed his beefy hands against the table.
“It wasn’t a bad idea until you started in on him.” Charlene turned to Quinn. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. We don’t make a very good first impression, do we?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Quinn covered her plate of half-eaten food with her napkin. “I’m going to go look for Grady.”
“Check the bars,” Randall said.
She met his eyes. “Your son is a good man, sir.”
“She’s right, Dad,” Benji said. “Grady has paid long enough for something that happened when we were kids. It was an accident. It’s time to let it go.”
“But he still acts like a rebellious teenager, doesn’t he?”
“Not so much anymore,” Benji said. “He’s done all of this for us, to try and make us proud. But you’re so intent on keeping him humble, you beat him down. You always have.”
Randall stood. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
“Fine, but you need to know this is your issue, not mine,” Benji said. “You’re not doing me any favors by holding on to all of this. The only thing I want is my brother back.”
Randall stormed off, leaving them all stunned.
“Have him let me know when you find him, okay?” Benji asked.
Quinn nodded, then stood. “It was nice to meet you both.”
Both Charlene and Benji stared at their plates and said nothing.
The day was crisp and cold. They should’ve been out celebrating, and instead he was off somewhere feeling miserable. She started with his room, but it was empty. She checked the gym, the lounge, Happy’s room. All empty.
Randall’s words rushed back at her: Check the bars.
She shoved the thought aside and went back to her own room, sent him another Hey, where are you? text, then proceeded to pace the floor for a solid hour.
Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering her messages?
By evening, she felt like a hamster in a cage. She didn’t know her way around town, but what choice did she have? She was starting to get really worried.
She found her rental car in the parking lot and started off in the direction her GPS told her was downtown. She scanned the parked cars, searching for his familiar SUV and whispering prayers that God would keep him safe and protected and smart.
“And when I do find him, Lord, please give me the right words to say.” It was obvious Grady was hurting, but would he let her in long enough to tell her why?
Finally, after twenty minutes of driving up and down Main Street, she spotted his Jeep and found a spot nearby. She pulled her coat around her and stopped next to his car, which was parked directly in front of a small bar called Doonby’s.
A nervous feeling welled up inside her as she got out of the car. She wasn’t good in strange places or different states or bars. But for his sake, she had to check.
She walked toward the bar, the sound of loud music streaming out onto the street. She passed by a handful of men headed inside. One guy fell in step beside her. “You look lost.”
“I’m looking for my friend,” she said.
“Is your friend as pretty as you?”
“He’s prettier.” She shot the guy a look.
“Quinn?”
She turned at the sound of Grady’s voice and found him sitting on a small bench near the street.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she forced herself not to walk away as the guys disappeared inside.
“What are you doing here?” He stood.
“I came to find you,” she said. She watched him for a long moment, and while she couldn’t deny she was angry with him—for leaving her at the restaurant, for losing his temper, for coming here of all places—she was surprised to find that wasn’t the only emotion welling up inside.
She saw him for who he really was—a broken man. Whatever had happened in the past, he’d carried it with him ever since, a weight that kept him from believing he was worthy of forgiveness.
She knew a little something about that. What was it Carly had told her—she saw the world through a lens of brokenness? She knew now it was true. She clung to a past that held her hostage, believing the lies that she’d done something wrong, that she was unlovable.
But it wasn’t Quinn who drove her mother away. She saw that now, and she was making peace with the fact that she may never be able to reconcile with the woman she’d been waiting for. Like a child holding a balloon on a windy day, she’d simply let it go. Given it over.
Could Grady ever do the same?
“You look really pretty,” he said.
“You look a little drunk.”
“I’m not.” His shoulders slumped. “I went in for a few minutes. Thought I could drink it all away, but . . .”
“But what?”
He shrugged. “Seemed wrong.”
She watched him. He’d gone to a bar, probably had a drink or two, and then he came outside—alone? In the freezing cold? He wasn’t perfect, but oh, how he was trying.
“Can I drive you back to your room?”
He shook his head. “You can come sit here with me.”
“We need to go.”
“It’s still early,” he said.
“Let’s go.”
He stood. “Fine.”
She led him to her rental car, then drove back toward the resort in silence.
He stared out the window.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Course I’m okay.”
“It’s just your dad said some things I—”
“My dad is a jerk.” Grady cut her off. “Always has been.”
r /> Quinn snapped her mouth shut and drove. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to talk. They arrived back at the resort and headed toward his room.
He pulled his key out and let himself in, holding the door open for her. She stood, unmoving, on the threshold of the door.
“Aren’t you going to come in?” he asked.
“I don’t think I should.”
He met her gaze. “For a minute? Please?”
She took an uncertain step inside, and he closed the door behind her. “Do you need anything before I head back to my own room?”
He touched her face. “I let you down tonight, and I’m sorry.”
She looked up into his eyes and saw sorrow there.
“Tell me it’s okay.”
She shook her head. “But it’s not okay.”
He closed his eyes. “I know. I told you I’m really not good enough for you, Quinn. As much as I want you, you deserve so much better than me.”
“You need some coffee.” She moved past him into the suite and found the small coffeepot near the sink.
“I had one drink. I’m fine.”He plopped down onto the stiff hotel loveseat. “Do you remember the first time I kissed you?”
She eyed him over one shoulder. “Do you remember the first time you kissed me?”
“In your loft.” There was mischief behind his grin.
“You do remember.” She faced him. “I always assumed it was one of those drunk things you forgot.”
He shook his head. “I remember. You made me feel like I could do anything. Even then, back when you couldn’t stand me.”
She laughed. “You couldn’t stand me either.”
“But I liked kissing you.” He waggled his eyebrows. His smile faded and his expression turned serious. “You’re probably wondering about my family.”
She handed him a mug of coffee and sat down across from him. “I didn’t want to pry.”
“I don’t like to talk about it.”
“I figured.”
“But you deserve to know.” A long pause then—so long Quinn wondered if he’d changed his mind.
She reached out and covered his hand with her own.
“I don’t know where to start.” His eyes glossed over, haunted.
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