by Linda Seed
When all avenues of small talk had been exhausted, Quinn got to the point.
“You should have called me.”
Alex shrugged. “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”
“Yeah, well … that’s not what Cheryl’s been saying about me, is it?”
Alex tensed, then got up from the table and went to the sink to rinse his mug. He braced his hands against the counter and said, “What was that about, anyway? That detective? What did he want to know about you for?”
Quinn explained the situation: Delilah, her ex-husband, and his accusation that Quinn was a bad influence on Jesse and Gavin.
“She thinks she’s going to lose her kids over this, Alex. Actually, she’s already dumped me so she won’t. And why, because you two said I refused to help you in your time of need? Kind of hard for me to do that when nobody even told me you were having a time of need in the first place.”
“Quinn …”
“Cheryl lied about me.”
“No, she didn’t.” Alex rubbed his face with his hands, then sighed. “I’m the one who lied to her.”
Quinn opened his mouth to respond, found that he was speechless, then closed it again.
“She told me to call you when all of the shit with the money started going down. She kept telling me, ‘Call Quinn. Apologize. Do whatever you have to do. Just get him to loan us some money.’ So I told her I had and that you’d shut me down. That stuff she told the detective? She thought it was true.”
Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “But … why did you tell her that?”
“Because it was easier. Easier than swallowing my pride and telling you I was sorry. Easier than admitting I couldn’t provide for my family. Easier than putting all of my problems on you, Quinn.”
Quinn sat back in his chair and tried to absorb everything his brother was telling him. “You lied to get your wife off your back.”
“Yes.”
“And then the detective called.”
“Yes.”
“And she was pissed as hell because she thought I didn’t care.”
“That’s … yeah. That’s what happened.”
At least it was all clear now—who’d done what and why. And it was clear that Alex was okay, and those two things were all Quinn had come for. He got up and faced his brother.
“For the record, I do care. Also for the record, the money’s gone. Well, not gone, really, but I spent it on my house. I don’t have it to give you.”
“Quinn …”
“And finally. For the record. You hurt Nate. You all did. You treated him like shit, and that’s why he left me the money and not you. I don’t owe you an apology for that, and if Nate were here, he wouldn’t, either.”
Alex folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Have you changed your mind? About Nate, I mean? Do you still think his sexual orientation made him less of a man?”
Alex looked at some point well beyond Quinn, his face tight, and he nodded. “I guess I do.”
“Then we’ve covered everything I came here to talk about. Take care of yourself, Alex.” Quinn walked out of the house, got into his van, and drove away.
Delilah hadn’t wanted to use the information she’d gotten about Celine. She’d thought that if she and Mitch could just have a rational conversation, the whole thing would go away.
She was wrong.
She called him the day after her conversation with Miles. She still didn’t know where she and the kids were going to live, and January first had come and gone, so they were in a two-bedroom Airbnb until she could figure out what was going to happen between herself and Quinn.
Delilah gave the boys lunch, got them settled in at the kitchen table with a board game, then went onto the front porch to call her ex.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“So talk.”
From the tone of his voice, he hadn’t backed down an inch on his stance.
“I’ve got a lawyer,” she said. “He thinks we could win if you really do sue me for custody. But, Mitch, please don’t do that.” She felt herself starting to tear up. “Please. You know you’re too busy to pay attention to the boys. Does Celine even want them to live with the two of you? Have you even talked about it?”
“Don’t worry about Celine. She’ll be fine. Are you still seeing the guy?”
“You’ve been talking to the boys. You should know I haven’t seen him lately.” She was hedging her answer. Just because she hadn’t seen Quinn lately didn’t mean she was resolved to never see him again.
She should have known Mitch would notice.
“You haven’t seen him lately,” he said. “Carefully worded to avoid the issue of whether you plan to see him in the future.”
“Mitch …”
“Have you broken it off with him? Does he know that you are out of his life for good? If the answer to those questions is yes, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”
God, he was infuriating. During their marriage, she’d overlooked his controlling nature, telling herself that a man in a high-powered career had to be that way. It was what drove his success, his achievement. But now she saw that it was dysfunctional and wrong. And what would his need to dominate, to dictate, do to Jesse and Gavin if they had to live with their father?
“Why do you even care?” Delilah demanded. “You don’t want me anymore, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either?”
“It’s not about that. It’s about who you’re bringing around my children.”
“And who would you be bringing around our children if you get custody?”
There it was. She was going there. It didn’t seem that she had any choice.
“What do you mean?”
“I know about Celine’s line of work. Is that how you met her? Did you pay for that first date?”
He was silent, and she could almost feel the rage radiating through the airwaves.
“You had to have known it would come out, Mitch.” Her voice was softer now. “It took my lawyer’s researcher less than a day. You smear Quinn, we smear Celine, and what’s the point? So you can control me? So you can micromanage my life from another continent?”
“Delilah, I swear to God—”
“Is it that important to you that I be unhappy?” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Was all of this about seeing me suffer? Because it worked, Mitch. I’m suffering. How much pain is enough for you? How much misery is it going to take for you to feel like you’ve done your job?”
She hadn’t meant to go off on him like that, but now that she had, it felt good. It felt like something she’d been holding back for a long time.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Are you still going to see that guy?”
At first, Delilah had thought it was a choice between Quinn and her sons. But it wasn’t. It was a choice between standing up for her own freedom or letting her ex-husband dictate her life. If she didn’t take him on now, she’d never be free of him.
“I will see him or anyone else I choose, and you’ll have nothing to say about it. Because it’s none of your goddamned business.”
She hung up on him before he could say anything else.
Chapter 33
Quinn didn’t stay in Flagstaff long enough to see his other brother, Jared, who was still an asshole, too.
Instead, he drove home and decided to confront Delilah.
Well, confront wasn’t the right word. It was more accurate to say he wanted to talk things out. If she didn’t want to be with him, he could live with that. He’d hate it, but he could live with it. What rankled the shit out of him was the idea that she’d stopped seeing him because her ex told her to.
Wasn’t that why someone was an ex in the first place? So you didn’t have to live your life according to their wants and needs anymore?
Yeah, she was afraid of losing her kids to that dickhead. But Quinn wouldn’t let that happen. He didn’t know how he might prevent i
t, but he’d make it his mission to try.
And anyway, if it wasn’t this, it would be something else. The guy was clearly set on controlling Delilah, and he saw the kids as the perfect bargaining chip he could use to make it happen. If he wasn’t haranguing her on who she was seeing, he’d be haranguing her on her parenting choices or her career choice—whatever it turned out to be—or spousal support, or some damned thing.
Quinn didn’t know Mitch, but he knew his type. And that type never gave up control if they didn’t have to. That type never quit taking as long as you continued to give.
So Delilah had to stop giving.
She had to dig her heels in—it was the only thing he’d understand.
The fact that Quinn would benefit from that strategy was a side bonus.
He planned what he was going to say to her as he made the long drive from Flagstaff back to Cambria. He mentally rehearsed his words under a clear blue sky as the highway stretched out ahead of him.
When he got back, it was too late to knock on her door. So he went home, tried to sleep, mostly failed, then got up early the next morning and fortified himself with strong coffee.
He weighed whether to call or text before going over there, then thought, screw it. He left the van in his driveway, got into the car he used around town, and went to Otter Bluff.
Delilah’s car wasn’t there, but an oldish gray Honda Civic was parked at the curb.
Quinn went to the front door and knocked, his heart pounding with the awareness that this might be a make-or-break moment for him with Delilah.
A middle-aged woman in jeans and a T-shirt opened the door. She had bright yellow rubber gloves on her hands, and her graying hair was tied back in a bandana.
“May I help you?”
“Ah … is Delilah here?”
“Who?” She squinted at him.
“Delilah Ballard. She’s staying here with her two kids. Two boys. Is she around?” He peered around the woman to try to look into the house.
“There’s nobody staying here right now.” The woman put a gloved fist on her hip as though she thought he might be up to something and she wanted him to know she wasn’t having it. “I’m cleaning it for the next guests.”
Oh, shit. Was she gone?
Yes, it was past January first, and yes, he’d known she was supposed to leave Otter Bluff then. But she hadn’t called or texted him to let him know, so he assumed she was still there. Surely she’d made a deal with the owner or something. It never entered his mind that she might leave without telling him where she’d gone.
“Do you know where she went?”
“They don’t tell me anything about the renters. Sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry. “All I know is she left the place pretty nice, which isn’t a given with some people. So if you see her, tell her Carol said thanks.” Then she closed the door on him.
He walked back to his car feeling cold dread in his stomach.
He got behind the wheel and texted her.
You left Otter Bluff. Please tell me you’re not in Connecticut. Please tell me you didn’t leave without talking to me or without at least saying goodbye.
She texted back less than five minutes later.
Of course I didn’t. I’m at 9835 Wharton Street on Happy Hill. Do you want to talk?
Damned right he did. He started the car and drove to Happy Hill.
Delilah’s divorce had left her unmoored. Without her marriage to anchor her, she hadn’t known what she wanted, with whom she wanted it, or how she planned to get it. She hadn’t known how she was going to construct a new life atop the ruins of the old one.
But her phone conversation with Mitch had clarified things. In the wake of it, she knew a few things for sure. One, she didn’t want to live in fear of what Mitch might do. Two, she was tired of feeling hurt and traumatized by the way he had treated her. Three, she was ready to feel hope and joy again. And four, now that joy had presented itself, she knew she had to do what it took to keep it.
When she heard Quinn’s car, she peeked out the front window and saw him park at the curb. She didn’t wait. Instead, she walked out the front door to meet him.
Quinn had been nervous as hell as he drove across town. Delilah had already told him she didn’t want to see him anymore, so he supposed this couldn’t be any worse.
But she hadn’t left town, and that had planted a tiny seed of hope within him. Maybe she wasn’t done with him completely. Maybe she could still be persuaded to let him be a part of her life.
He hadn’t realized how scared he was—how much this whole thing had undone him—until he reached for the car door handle and saw that his hand was shaking.
Whatever happened, he had to be a man about it. He had to pull himself together and accept whatever she’d decided.
When she came out the front door, she was smiling, and he felt a surge of optimism and possibility. She wouldn’t be smiling if she were going to cut him out of her life forever, would she?
Please let that smile be for me.
He got out of the car, headed up the front walk—and felt everything within him breathe again when she ran to him and threw herself into his arms.
Delilah kissed Quinn with everything she had, everything she was feeling. He tangled his hands in her hair and caressed her mouth with his.
What a wonder that she could feel like this after everything that had happened. What a miracle.
When he pulled back from her, she smiled up at him. “I talked to Mitch.”
“Did you? I guess it went well.”
“No, actually. It was awful.” Her arms were still around him, and she relished the feeling of being held by him again.
“It did?”
“Yes. God.” She shook her head. “He was terrible. And I essentially blackmailed him to drop it, and that was terrible, too. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I can’t let him dictate what I do with my life. I can’t, Quinn. He decided everything I did while we were married. What I wore, what I did with my time, who my friends were …” She started to get emotional, but she swallowed hard and tamped it down. “If I let him have his way on this, it’s going to be like he never left. Like I was never free. I’d be letting him know that he doesn’t have to treat me with respect. That he doesn’t have to acknowledge me as a … a thinking adult who can make her own choices.”
He grinned. “Please say you told him to kiss your ass.”
“I did. Not in those words, but essentially.”
“Goddamn it, I’m proud of you.” He kissed her again, hard and fast, to punctuate his words. “Back up a little, though. Blackmail?”
She shuddered. “I felt like I needed a shower.”
“So, what dirt did you get on him? And how?”
“Not on him. On his girlfriend. That stuff he said about you? It’s nothing compared to what I now know about her.”
“Do I want the details?”
“You really don’t.”
He nodded, accepting that. They were still standing on the front walk, his hands clasped at the small of her back. “Does this mean you’re staying in Cambria?”
“It means we should talk about it. About what you want, and what I want, and what’s best for the boys. Without taking Mitch’s opinions into account.”
“We can do that.”
Before they could go into it any further, Jesse spotted Quinn through the front window, and both boys came tumbling out of the house calling his name.
“Quinn! You’re here! Where were you? Were you camping?” Jesse asked.
“I want to go to the zoo,” Gavin said.
Quinn and Delilah walked into the house hand in hand.
They’d agreed to talk about it, but they didn’t do that right away. Quinn had, in fact, promised the kids a trip to the zoo if their mother said yes, and now, under the excited pleadings of her boys, Delilah agreed.
They drove down to Santa Barbara the following day under a blue sky dotted with puffy clouds. The drive was a l
ong one, so by the time they parked, the boys practically exploded out of the car, releasing their pent-up energy.
“Guys. Guys! Stay with me. There are cars coming and going. You need to be careful.” Delilah used her stern voice, corralling the kids while she filled a small backpack with jackets, water bottles, her cell phone, and her wallet.
They went to the front gate, paid, and emerged into the tidy, well-kept zoo, a map of the exhibits in Quinn’s hand.
The boys began arguing about what they wanted to see first, so Quinn took the lead.
“You don’t just go see your favorite animal first,” he said.
“You don’t?” Gavin looked up at him attentively.
“Oh, heck no. You’ve got to plan a route.” He spread the map out on a bench. “See? We can start at the left with the snow leopards and the porcupines then continue around toward the elephants. Or, we can start at the right with the otters and the alligators and continue on toward the koalas. But it makes no sense to go straight for the giraffes, for example, because you’ll just have to backtrack to see the stuff you missed, and you’ll be walking all day.”
Delilah grinned at him. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“A thing that’s worth doing is worth doing right.”
“But we’re still going to see the giraffes, right?” Jesse asked.
“Of course. I’m not an amateur,” Quinn said. “I’m not going to plan a zoo trip that doesn’t include giraffes.”
Jesse, convinced, opted for the snow leopards, and Gavin agreed.
They headed off together on the route they’d chosen.
Quinn was feeling pretty damned good about himself and about life as he led the kids and Delilah from one exhibit to another. He’d thought he lost her over her ex’s threats. He’d been prepared to fight for her, but only to a point. He knew she had to make her own decisions—especially after the way her ex had prevented her from doing just that during their marriage—and if she had decided to cut him loose, well, he would have had to accept that.