She Gets That from Me

by Robin Wells

  “I love it when we all eat together, jus’ like a real fam’ly!” Lily exclaims.

  “There are all kinds of families,” I say, putting some green beans on Lily’s plate.

  She takes a gulp of milk. “I mean like Alicia’s fam’ly, where they all live together.”

  I butter a roll for Lily. “Yes, well, our family is different.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Her voice sounds despondent. “I wish you didn’ have to move away, Daddy.”

  He glances at me, then settles his gaze on Lily. “Well, it’s looking like I won’t.”

  “What?” An ear-to-ear smile brightens her face. “You’re gonna stay?”

  “Yes.” He looks at me. “I talked with the partners at my law firm, and I’m staying on.”

  “So I can see you every day?” Lily breathlessly asks.

  “Probably not every day, but a lot more often than if I lived in Seattle.”

  “Yay!” Lily cheers, bouncing up and down in her chair.

  Ruffles gets into the act and barks.

  “Settle down there, little missy,” Zack says to the dog, then grins at Lily. “You, too. And one of you needs to put your napkin on your lap.”

  Lily giggles and immediately whisks it off the table.

  I adore the light, humorous way Zack offers parental instruction to Lily. He’s a wonderful father, I think. My thoughts scramble all over each other, like crabs trying to climb out of a bucket. He’s just wonderful, period. He’s kind, he’s smart, he’s funny, he’s attractive. So attractive! Aw, hell, who am I kidding? He’s sexy as hell! He’s exactly the kind of man I’ve always hoped to . . .

  He’s looking at me, and I realize he’s waiting for me to eat before he does. I feel my face heat. Stick a fork in it, Quinn. I spear a cherry tomato and force myself to chew.

  * * *

  —

  LILY PRATTLES THROUGHOUT the meal about everything we can do together now that Zack is staying in town. I steer the conversation away from her plans for family outings by asking about her day at preschool. She’s learning where foods come from, so she starts asking about everything on her plate. She asks how rice grows. She asks about shrimp—she remembers seeing some at the aquarium—and Zack tells her how they’re caught. She talks about lettuce, and remembers how her mother grew some in a pot in the backyard.

  “My mommy’s house is right down the street,” she tells Zack as we finish eating.

  “Yes, I know. I was there when your grams fell.”

  “I wanted to go see if Mommy is still there, but Grams said she wasn’t, an’ she thought it would make me sad.”

  I draw in my breath. I remember the conversation.

  “I know why she said that. It was ’cause I was so sad when I stayed there with her before the fun’ral,” Lily says. She looks at me. “You an’ Ruffles came back here, but I stayed there with Grams, an’ I could hear her cryin’ at night.”

  I put my hand on my chest. I didn’t know this.

  “I tol’ Alicia, an’ she said maybe it was my mommy, ’cause she doesn’ think old peoples cry.” Lily takes a slurp of milk. “I asked Alicia if she’s ever seen my mommy there ’cause she drives by the house all the time, but she says no.”

  I look at Zack, then back at Lily, my heart heavy. I thought we were beyond this. “Your mommy’s in heaven, honey.”

  “I know. But I thought maybe she talked to God an’ he let her come back.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, honey.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” She turns her eyes on me, as blue and clear as the Caribbean. “But would it be okay if we go check?”

  I don’t know how to answer. I look at Zack.

  He meets my gaze, then lifts an eyebrow. “Hey—weren’t you supposed to call Sarah?”

  I give him a grateful smile. “Oh, right—I was!” I push back my chair. “Excuse me a moment. We’ll talk more about this when I come back.”

  Zack nods and gives me a secret thumbs-up. “Lily and I will clean up.”

  I go into my office and call Sarah. “Sorry to interrupt you at dinnertime,” I say.

  “That was an hour ago,” she says. I hear loud toddler shrieks in the background. “This is letting-the-heathens-unleash-their-limitless-energy-outside time.”

  I laugh, then explain about Lily wanting to visit Brooke’s house. I remind her that the therapist in Alexandria had cautioned that it might confuse Lily to return there.

  “I think Lily’s a lot further along in the grief and recovery process than that therapist thought,” Sarah says. “It’s very common for bereaved children to fantasize that their loved one is in the last place they saw them alive.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And anyway, now that Lily’s living just a block away instead of in Alexandria, it’s natural that she’d want to go back. So yes, I definitely think you should take her. It’ll help her get some closure.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, but I wanted to get a professional’s opinion.”

  “I think your instincts about Lily are solid and right,” Sarah says. “You need to start trusting them.”

  “Thanks, Sarah.” I hesitate. “There’s one more thing I’d like some professional advice about.”

  “Let me guess. Zack?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Just a feeling.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “What’s up?”

  “Jessica’s divorcing him. He’s staying here in New Orleans.”

  “Get out!”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Wow. I figured they were having some troubles, but . . . wow!”

  “Yeah. Zack wants to discuss how much—or how little—I want him in Lily’s and the baby’s lives. And mine, as well. What do you advise?”

  “Oh, Quinn, honey—you’re the only one who can answer that.”

  “But what’s best for Lily and the baby?”

  “The closer the relationship children have with both parents, the better. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “So . . . what do you think? Weekly? Every other week? Twice a week? Every other day?”

  “You need to figure out what works for both of you,” she says. “Relationships are like most things in life; it’s usually a good idea to start slowly, see how things go, and adjust as necessary.”

  “Thanks, Sarah.”

  “No problem. By the way, my advice for you is the same as for Lily. Start slow.”

  Is my crush on Zack so obvious? “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The hell you don’t,” she laughs.

  We say our good-byes and I head back into the kitchen, where Zack has cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Lily has pulled all of the plastic storage containers out of the bottom cabinet and spread them on the floor, stacking them to build a tower.

  “I’m helping Daddy put away the leftovers,” she announces proudly, carefully placing yet another container atop the rest.

  “For the whole neighborhood, apparently,” Zack says.

  “I see.”

  “He wanted to know where to find the ’tainers, and I showed him,” she says.

  “That was very helpful.”

  “I like helpin’.”

  “Well, then, would you please take Ruffles in the backyard and get her to run around? She needs some exercise.”

  “Okay. Come on, Ruffs.” The little dog trots over. Lily hesitates and looks at up me. “But what about goin’ to see Mommy?”

  I crouch down to her level so I can look her in the eye. “Your mommy is dead, sweetheart. If she were alive, she’d be right here with you. She’s not in your old house.”

  Her eyes fill with tears. “But I want her to be. I wished for it so much!”

  “I know, darling girl. But there a
re some things in life we just can’t change. If you want to go to your old house and look around, though, we can do that.”

  Her face immediately perks up. “Really?”

  “Yes. Go play with Ruffles and let us finish cleaning the kitchen, and then we’ll walk over.”

  Lily and Ruffles bound out the door. I look at Zack, and he reaches out a hand to pull me to my feet. I take it, and the warmth of his palm makes goose bumps travel all the way up my arm.

  “Sarah thought it was a good idea?” he asks.

  I nod. “She said it might bring some closure.”

  “Do you want to go alone with Lily?”

  “No. I want you to come, too.” The words fly out fast—too fast. I’d just assumed he’d be with us. “If—if you don’t mind, that is.”

  “No, I want to. I just didn’t want to intrude.”

  I shake my head. “I-I’d like the company. And I think Lily would, too.” I spoon the leftover rice into a plastic container. “You have a way of lifting her spirits.”

  And mine, as well. The realization of how much I’ve begun to count on his steady, reassuring presence alarms me, especially now that he’s going to stay in New Orleans. I know better than to rely too much on a man. I know better than to build up fairy-tale endings in my mind.

  And yet, being around Zack makes it hard for my heart to remember all of its hard-learned lessons.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Zack

  I BREATHE IN the scent of freshly cut grass, jasmine, and magnolia blossoms as we walk over to Brooke’s house together. We pass neighbors on their porches, who nod and call hello. Quinn smiles and responds, and Lily waves.

  As we draw near, I see that the lawn of Brooke’s house is mowed and edged. It occurs to me that Quinn is probably responsible. “Are you handling the upkeep on the place?”

  Quinn nods. “I kept the lawn service, and I had the cleaning lady come by yesterday to keep things dusted.”

  On top of caring for Lily, seeing to Margaret, and running her own business while in the not-always-feeling-great throes of early pregnancy, she’s managing the details of her late friend’s estate. My admiration for Quinn just grows and grows.

  She leads us to the back door. Lily grips my hand as Quinn unlocks it. The kitchen smells like furniture polish and Windex as we step inside. Lily releases my hand and wanders around the granite island.

  “I don’t know what Miss Margaret wants to do with the place now,” Quinn tells me. “She said something about moving here if she recovers enough, but I don’t think it’s feasible. All of the bedrooms and full baths are on the second story.”

  “Maybe I could buy it,” I find myself saying. “Or at least lease it. I’ll need a place to live now that I’m staying in New Orleans, because the condo’s sold and I have to be out in three weeks.”

  “I bet Miss Margaret would be open to a short-term lease,” Quinn says.

  “That would be awesome,” I say. “If Lily’s okay with me living here.”

  But Lily isn’t listening. She’s staring at the stainless steel door of the refrigerator. “All of my art is gone!”

  “Yes, honey,” Quinn says softly. “Your grams and I took down all the personal items to get the house ready to sell, remember?”

  Lily’s shoulders slump.

  I search my mind for a way to cheer her up. “You had some happy times here, huh?” I ask.

  Lily nods.

  “Maybe you can show me around and tell me about the things you used to do in the different rooms.”

  The suggestion immediately brightens her. “Okay.” She holds out her arms and spins around. “This is the kitchen. It’s where we cooked and ate.”

  “Did Quinn come over a lot?”

  Lily nods. “She always came to the back door. Mos’ ever’one else came to the front. That’s over here.” She shows me the door where I first met Quinn. “An’ this is the livin’ room, where we would play games an’ watch movies an’ read.”

  “It’s very nice. I like how you can see the kitchen from there.”

  “Mommy said Quinn got the builders to tear down some walls.” She skips into the dining room. “This is where we ate when Mommy had parties.”

  “It’s really pretty.”

  Lily nods. “Mommy said Quinn found the furn’ture an’ did the core.”

  “Decor,” Quinn says gently.

  “I really like it,” I say.

  “There’s a bathroom underneath the stairs, but it’s little. It’s where we used to have my potty chair, ’fore I was a big girl. An’ here’s the way upstairs.”

  She starts up the staircase, then stops and cranes her head up at the wall. “Hey, all the pitchers are gone!”

  “Yes,” Quinn says. “We took them down so people looking at the house could imagine themselves living here. They’re all packed up and stored for later.”

  “What kinds of pictures were they?” I ask.

  “People ones,” Lily says as she continues climbing the stairs. “Photos of me an’ Mommy, an’ Mommy an’ Quinn, an’ Mommy an’ me an’ Grams an’ Quinn, an’ gran’parents I never gots to meet, an’ things like that.”

  “I’d like to see them someday.”

  “I have a photo album I can show you,” Quinn says. “And Miss Margaret has lots of photos we’ll bring from Alexandria.”

  “This was the gues’ room,” Lily says, pointing to the left. “This is where Grams would sleep when she came to visit.”

  “And where I would sleep before I moved here from Atlanta,” Quinn says.

  “And this is Mommy’s room.” Lily walks across the hall and stops. Her voice cracks, as if she’s about to cry. “Hey—her pitchers and joolry boxes and pretty things all dis’peared!”

  “Your grams and I packed them up,” Quinn says gently. “We saved them for you for when you’re bigger.”

  Lily opens the closet door. “Where’s all her clothes?”

  “Your grams and I cleared them out.” Quinn’s voice, too, has a slight quaver. She surreptitiously wipes her face.

  Lily steps into the master bathroom. The countertop is completely clear except for a box of tissues. She opens the cabinet under the vanity and finds it empty as well. Tears stream down her face. “Everythin’s all gone.”

  “Yes, sweetie.” Quinn follows her in. I stand outside the bathroom, but I can see their reflections in the large framed mirror over the sink. Quinn kneels down and hugs the child. Lily’s arms curl around Quinn’s neck, and she cries into Quinn’s hair.

  My throat grows tight. I stand there, feeling awkward and useless. I ache to comfort them, but the loss is theirs, and this moment is, too. My arms feel long and unwieldy, and my heart thuds like a flat tire.

  After a long moment, Quinn gets a tissue and dabs Lily’s face. Lily sniffs, then wanders back into the bedroom. While Quinn uses a tissue herself, Lily kneels down, lifts the dust ruffle, and peers under the bed. She stands up, crosses the room, and opens a dresser drawer. Again, it’s empty.

  “Can you show me your room?” I ask.

  Lily nods. She takes my hand and leads me across the hall.

  “Oh, my,” I say. “We must have taken a wrong turn. It looks like we left the house and stepped into a royal palace.”

  She grins. “No, we’re in my room.”

  “Well, then, you must be a princess or a fairy, because this looks like the kind of place where a fairy princess would sleep.”

  “You’re silly.” Her smile fades as she looks around. “But it looks all naked! My books an’ stuffed an’mals are missing.” She opens her closet. “An’ my clothes, and my toys!” Her bottom lip trembles.

  “You have some of them at my place.” Quinn has silently entered the bedroom behind us. “And the rest are in Alexandria, remember? Grams’s friends packed up some of your things
and sent them to us, and we’ll go get the rest when Grams is better.”

  Lily turns around slowly. “This is my room an’ my house, but it’s not the same at all.”

  “No,” Quinn says. “It’s not the same.”

  “An’ Mommy’s not here.”

  “No, sweetie.”

  “That’s ’cause she’s dead, right?”

  “Yes, honey. But your memories of her and the love you shared will always be with you.”

  “Yeah. But it’s not the same.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Lily plops down on her bed, her legs dangling over, her slight shoulders rounded. Quinn sits down beside her and embraces her. They stay like that a long while, then Lily looks up. “I’m tired. Can we go home now?”

  Tears well in Quinn’s eyes. She tenderly places her hand on the child’s head. “That’s a great idea.”

  The significance of the moment is not lost on me. Home means Quinn’s place now. Together they walk down the stairs, Quinn’s arm around Lily. I follow, my heart feeling as soft as Lily’s teddy bear.

  As we trudge back through the neighborhood in the fading light, I realize I haven’t once, all evening, thought about the fact that my wife has filed for divorce.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Quinn

  Friday, June 7

  TWO DAYS LATER, I’m at the shop conferring with Terri about the furnishings for a client’s living room when I get a text from Zack.

  Can you meet me for lunch at Bayona at 12:30?

  My first thought is to say no. Ever since I learned he’s getting divorced and staying in New Orleans, I’ve felt off balance. We didn’t settle anything the night we went to Brooke’s home; by the time Lily was bathed and tucked into bed, I was too exhausted to deal with how this news changes everything.

  And yet, it does.

  Terri looks at me, her eyebrows raised. I realize I’m standing frozen, staring at my phone. I turn it toward her so that she can read it.