by Terry Lee
-Adam’s trip to Chicago (he left Gracie in charge?)
-Hannah has a boyfriend (can’t approve, haven’t met him)
-Hasn’t had piano tuned (not really time for one, but still…)
-She messed up the bean recipe (how can someone screw up beans?)
“What a mess.” Quinlan shook her head. “I can’t believe I left her. She’s clueless.” The list fueled her motivation to push forward with her plan. She closed the notebook. “That’s all there is to it. She needs me.”
~~~
A week after submitting the packet, Quinlan received the letter. Her heart flip-flopped. She snatched the envelope from the mailbox and shoved it deep into her pants pocket. She’d have to wait till later to read it. Each tick of the clock seemed like a day. With the nervous energy of a cat with its tail on fire Quinlan power-weeded her garden and cleaned the cottage down to scrubbing the baseboards, all the while feeling the envelope as if it burned a hole in her pocket.
After hearing Meghan’s door close for the night, she locked herself in her room and sat crossed-legged in the middle of the bed. She counted to 100, trying to calm herself, but skipped through nearly half the numbers. She tore open the envelope, her pulse pounding in her ears.
You have been granted permission to present
your case presentation before the Advisory
Council two weeks from today’s date.
12:00 Noon
“Yes!” She covered her mouth, afraid of waking her sister. One step closer to her goal. The only remaining obstacle? Actually being awarded the assignment. Oh yeah, and telling Meghan.
~~~
The following evening Quinlan sat on the porch with her sister. Small billowy clouds splashed sunset colors across the early evening sky. She positioned herself in a high-back rattan chair and crocheted, anything to keep her hands occupied. Meghan sat in the porch swing, flipping through The Guardian, the local newspaper.
Quinlan breathed slowly to tame her mind and lessen her heart pounding in her ears. “Beautiful evening.” A feeble conversation attempt.
“Uh-huh,” Meghan mused, her head stuck in the paper.
Then…the bomb dropped. The “beautiful” evening part vanished like a magician waving his wand.
“What!” Meghan shrieked. “You’re kidding me, right? Tell me this is a joke!”
The shrill of Meghan’s voice jolted Quinlan, the crochet needle flying out of her hand. She grabbed her heart. “Good grief Meghan! You scared me.”
Meghan’s jaw went slack and then clamped back tight, her eyes round and bulging. “I said…tell me this is a joke.” She stood, waving The Guardian in Quinlan’s face.
“Tell you what?” An uncomfortable tingle trickled down her spine. The pounding in her ears escalated.
“This says,” Meghan paused, jabbing at the newspaper, “that you’ve requested a return trip to Earth.”
Quinlan shot up, pulling out her innocent act. “What? Where does it say that?”
“Right here. Under Public Notices.” Meghan pointed to a column on the bottom of page five.
“Let me see that.” Quinlan enunciated every word, trying for indignant. She grabbed the paper and gulped when she saw her name in print. She had no idea her request would become public forum.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Meghan barked. “Oh, as in ‘oh, that’s crazy’, or ‘oh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you’?”
Quinlan twisted her neck until she felt a pop and winced. Not from the self-adjustment, but what was sure to come next. She paused to clear her throat. “The second oh.”
“The second? Sit your butt down and start talking, Missy.”
Obediently, Quinlan sat. She hadn’t heard that tone since she and her best friend Courtney, both age seven, used Meghan’s favorite red lipstick to color their face and arms for Valentine’s Day. Her sister had been furious…similar to now.
Quinlan eased down beside Meghan on the swing. “It’s no big deal, really.” She waved her hand over the small white lie.
“No big deal? Are you insane? And worse yet, why am I reading about it in the newspaper?”
The questions stumbled over each other, leaving little room for Quinlan to interject. She jumped in as soon as Meghan took a breath. “I didn’t want to upset you. And I was right. See? You’re upset.” Quinlan crossed her arms to make a point.
“Upset? Why would I be upset?” Meghan threw the newspaper onto the porch.
Quinlan watched as the pages of The Guardian refolded in a neat pile. Littering…not allowed.
“You finally get here, for what…four months? And you already want to go back?” Meghan dropped her hands in her lap and paused, deliberating. “Now, why would I be upset?”
“Calm down. I know it’s unusual but—”
“Unusual, she says.”
“That’s my point.” Quinlan talked fast. “You know I’ve always done things my own way.” She looked at Meghan for a reaction. “I just thought it would be something different to try.” Less of a lie?
“Different?” Meghan stood, pacing the length of the porch. “Quinlan, it’s not done. Do you understand what I’m saying? It’s just not done.”
“I know it’s not normal.” As if any of this is normal.
“Listen to me.” Meghan sat back down and grabbed Quinlan’s hands. “There are things to learn here. Lots of things. Things you can’t even imagine.”
“Like what?” Quinlan asked. “I’ve been to all my classes.”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “Now that’s just wrong and you know it.”
Quinlan pulled her hands free. “What do you mean?”
“Answer me this,” Meghan started. “Why did you settle for only one major when most everyone chooses two? Learning used to be everything to you. Now you can’t even take your one major seriously. And I know you’ve skipped more classes than you’ve gone to.”
“I’ve been studying at home….” Quinlan’s eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Meghan. “Wait, how did you know that?”
“Your progress report,” Meghan answered. “You left it on the kitchen table.”
“Oh.”
“There’s that ‘oh’ again,” Meghan said. “And another thing, why are you still afraid of heights? That shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Although Quinlan secretly wondered the same thing.
“I saw you the other day on the ladder changing the light bulb,” Meghan answered. “You white-knuckled it the whole way.”
“You know I’ve always had a fear of heights.” Quinlan protest sounded feeble, even to herself.
“As a human, yes. But not here!” Meghan said. “All those things are supposed to be filtered out during orientation.” She resumed her pacing. “Something’s not right.”
“Okay, okay. I get the picture,” Quinlan said, more than ready to switch topics. The last thing she needed was for Meghan to figure out the real reason for her return. She smiled tentatively. “See why I didn’t tell you?”
Meghan’s glare could turn boulders to dust.
“I wanted to tell you, if that helps. And it’s the thought that counts. Right?” Quinlan scrunched up her nose like a little kid. “Besides, now that you know, will you help me?”
Meghan picked up the folded newspaper and sighed. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Be my study buddy?”
“Your study buddy? What are we, in fifth grade?”
Quinlan offered up her best round-eyed pout.
Meghan groaned. “How long do we have?”
“Two weeks.”
“Great. Just great.” Meghan threw up her hands and headed into the cottage.
Quinlan pressed her hands to her stomach, feeling her diaphragm clench erratically. “Well, that’s done.” She puffed out her cheeks, mentally crossing “tell Meghan” off her list.
~~~
She stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, her fingers
tangled in the scarf around her neck. “Why can’t I get this right?”
“Turn around.” In less than thirty seconds Meghan tastefully arranged the scarf Quinlan had wrestled for the last five minutes. “There. Done,” Meghan said. “Now go. You’re late.”
Quinlan scooped up her presentation folder and made sure her reading glasses were somewhere on her body. She found them where they were supposed to be…on her nose. “Do I look okay?”
“It’s not a beauty contest.” Meghan said, using her sister voice.
Exiting the cottage for her appointment with the Advisory Council, she heard her sister’s final remarks.
“Don’t fidget. And remember to make eye contact!”
CHAPTER 23
QUINLAN
The sisters sat at their favorite outside table at Angela’s. Quinlan jabbered animatedly, her hands painting pictures in the air.
“Calm down.” Meghan locked her fingers over her cup of hot tea as if Quinlan’s flailing would knock it over.
She dropped her hands to her lap. “Sorry. I’m just excited. And there’s so much to do.” Quinlan fixed her mouth, pulled a notepad from her pocket and jotted down a few words.
“You actually got the assignment.” Meghan’s eyes size of quarters. “I can’t believe it.”
Quinlan giggled, fairly bouncing in her chair. “I know.”
“And you’re leaving this weekend?” Meghan held a hand to her forehead as if checking for fever.
“Yes.” Quinlan clutched at her heart. “I feel like…I can’t breathe.”
“You’re being a drama queen. You can’t stop breathing here. Remember where you are.” She fanned Quinlan’s face with a napkin. “Better?”
“A little.”
“Good. Now tell me everything.” Meghan blew on her cup of tea before sipping. She snarled and reached for the sugar bowl.
Taking a deep breath, Quinlan released the air, her cheeks puffing out. “Well, I was nervous.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Meghan spooned two piled-high teaspoons of sugar into her cup.
Quinlan’s excitement deflected any of Meghan’s deadpan remarks, although she did catch the amount of sugar her sister dumped in her tea. “Did you know there are twelve Council members?” Quinlan’s eyes widened. “There were lots of eyes on me in there.” She grabbed the napkin from Meghan to fan herself. “Anyway, after the presentation, they asked some questions, I answered. And that’s how it happened. Done deal.”
“Did you see George?” Meghan asked.
“Yes, I did.” Quinlan’s head moved like a bobble head. “He seemed very reassuring.”
“How so?”
“He just kept nodding. You know, like I was doing good.”
“Maybe he was falling asleep.”
“His eyes were open.”
Meghan rolled hers.
Quinlan glared.
“Okay. I guess that’s a good sign,” Meghan sighed with exaggerated emphasis.
“I know, right? I thought so too. And they even had my orientation scores and my class grades. I guess I did better than I thought.”
“Not according to your progress….” Meghan broke off, tapping her mouth with her fingers.
Quinlan went silent.
Meghan sighed. “Look, I support you because you’re my sister. I’ve helped you study because you’re my sister. But, I’m concerned—”
“Because I’m your sister.” Quinlan said.
“Yeah.”
Quinlan crumbled her napkin fan. “I know you don’t approve, but—”
“Approve? Quin, I’m scared silly.” Meghan gnawed at her cuticles. “And I’m not even supposed to get scared anymore.”
“As I was saying.” Quinlan smoothed the wrinkled napkin.
“Okay.” Meghan crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve done my homework. I’ve taken the proper steps. And my mind is made up.”
“And we all know how that goes.” Meghan did another serious eye roll.
“Look.” Quinlan tossed a quick smile to a couple sitting at the next table. “I’m aware I might be a bit of a control freak, but—”
“There’s a but?”
“But, it’s because I’m always right.” Quinlan thrust her chin out in defiance. “I can’t help it.”
A waiter appeared at the table and replaced the teapot with a fresh one. They smiled and waited for him to disappear.
“It must be nice knowing what’s best for everyone,” Meghan mocked.
“Not always,” Quinlan countered seriously, despite Meghan’s jab. “Sometimes it’s exhausting.”
Meghan sighed.
“For instance,” Quinlan said, “look at your living room. It’s much more spacious the way I rearranged it.”
“I’ll give you that one.”
“Not to mention, you’re eating home-cooked meals,” Quinlan aimed her index finger at Meghan. “And the flower beds—”
“Okay. I get the picture.” Meghan finished her tea. “Get back on topic. Did anything else happen?”
Quinlan let the question hang in the air. The moment had arrived…no getting around it. “Well…there was one other thing.” Quinlan chewed her lower lip. Her hands felt clammy.
“Which was?”
Quinlan wiped sweaty palms across her lap. “Why.”
“Why what?”
Her neck tensed. She dreaded this next part. Taking a quick breath and closing her eyes for a brief second, she exhaled. “They wanted to know why I asked to be assigned to Gracie.”
“You did what?”
The strength of Meghan’s gale-force yell blew Quinlan’s hair back and caught the attention of the other café patrons.
“Shhh.” Quinlan’s finger touched her lips.
“You can’t be serious. Please, please. Please. Say you’re not serious.” Meghan waved her hands to fan her face. “Is your spool unwinding?”
Quinlan picked up the napkin and flapped it in Meghan’s direction.
“No. No. And no. It’ll never work.” Meghan kept fluttering. “There are rules about that. You do know the rules, don’t you?” Meghan’s words shot forth like sparks of electricity. “It would be nice, yes, but you don’t go back to assist your own daughter.”
Quinlan felt like a five year old who just found out Santa wasn’t real. “But…they said I could.” She stared into her cup, pushing around the tea bag with her spoon. She knew Meghan would take it hard, but she had to be told. Didn’t want that little tidbit appearing in The Guardian.
“Meghan, I know this isn’t easy for you to understand,” Quinlan said. “But can you trust me, just this once? Please? I know what I’m doing.” A little white lie…secretly, she had no clue.
“Quin, the two of you never agreed on anything. An-y-thing.” Meghan jabbed her spoon at Quinlan like a pointer. “You expect me to accept that you going back is in Gracie’s best interest?”
Quinlan opened her mouth, then closed it, not sure how to respond. She finally spoke. “I know she needs me, Meghan. She’s in trouble.”
Meghan grabbed the edge of the table. “How do you know that?”
“Promise you won’t get mad.” Quinlan cringed, realizing too late that she’d chosen the absolute worst way to start a sentence.
Meghan raised an eyebrow.
“The day orientation ended, I saw Ruby in the library.”
“And?”
“She was on-line reading about the White Sox.”
Meghan crossed her arms and leaned forward.
“She was reading the Chicago Tribune.”
“Go on.” Meghan drummed impatient fingers on her arms.
“So…I realized she knew how to connect. You know…to Earth. Find out what’s going on,” Quinlan said.
Meghan’s hand flew to her mouth with a choked gasp. “You’ve been using your CI card?”
“Well, Ruby—” Quinlan twiddled a spoon between her fingers.
“She showed you, didn’t she?”
“It wasn’t all her fault.” Quinlan accidentally flipped the spoon to the next table. She mouthed ‘sorry’ to the couple’s stare. “I sort of tricked her.”
“And how did you manage that?” Meghan’s beamed glare could have chiseled through a stone.
“I told her I wanted to look up some recipes. So she….”
A horrified expression crept onto Meghan’s face, connecting the dots about Quinlan’s time at the library. She held up her hands in the universal stop sign. “Forget it. I don’t want to know anymore.” Meghan snatched her purse and took off down the street.
“Meghan. Wait.” Quinlan caught up to her sister. “Let me explain.”
Quinlan took Meghan’s silence as a permission statement and started her story. She talked the entire way home, paused long enough to open the gate at the cottage, and continued for another thirty minutes while they sat in the swing on the front porch.
Meghan held up a finger as if checking wind direction. “One question.”
“Shoot.” Quinlan regretted her choice of words the moment they left her mouth.
“I’ve listened to everything you’ve said.” Meghan rocked thoughtfully in the porch swing, her brows furrowed like McDonalds’ arches. “But, I have to ask. Seriously. Why would the Advisory Council agree to this?”
Breaking eye contact, Quinlan studied her hands in her lap. “I don’t know.”
~~~
Quinlan and Meghan sat at the kitchen table, each lost in their own silence. The morning sun streamed through the windowpanes above the sink, shooting patterned rays across the polished wood floor. On the counter, a red electric coffee pot brewed. The smell of fresh coffee usually left Quinlan feeling warm and cozy. Not today. She scanned her list before breaking the silence. “I’ve got a lot to do today.”
“I still can’t believe they approved this.” Meghan shook her head while pouring coffee.
“We’ve been over this a hundred times.” Quinlan rubbed the back of her stiff neck. “I applied for the return and they approved it.” She pushed the notepad aside and spread apple jelly on a corner of her English muffin. She forced herself to take small bites. Her stomach churned, but not from hunger.
“Did they say how long you’d be gone?” Meghan stirred her coffee and plucked a plump strawberry from her plate.