She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to hold back the flood of emotion that came at her mother’s words. “I know you do.”
“Then why wouldn’t you let me? Did I really mess things up between the two of us so badly that you don’t even want your mom when you’re hurt?”
It felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “No, Mom! It isn’t like that.”
“Then tell me what it’s like.”
“First of all, what are you even doing here? Why would you bring the kids here?”
“I was worried about you. I didn’t ever plan on doing anything like that, but the other night, the kids and I were just on our way out to dinner, when my cell phone rings. It was the hospital, calling because Nathaniel hasn’t shown up for two shifts in a row, and they’re worried about him.”
Quinn’s mouth fell open. “Why would they call you?”
“I’ve always been his special emergency contact – it was something we worked out years ago, just in case something like this ever happened, in case one day he just stopped showing up at work. Who else could they call? I’m sure they tried his house first, but William isn’t there, either.”
“I guess that makes sense, but still . . .”
“I know you said you might not come home until the end of the break, but when I got that call – I just knew something was wrong. I couldn’t just sit there, knowing so much more time was passing for you here . . .”
“But what would possess you to bring the kids? If you were so sure something was wrong, why would you bring Annie and Owen?”
“It was a very last minute decision. It was just starting to get dark. I could either take the kids into the restaurant, and sit and worry about you, or drive to the bridge. I didn’t even really think about it.”
Quinn sighed. “I know how those decisions are. I thought people maybe grew out of that.”
Megan chuckled softly. “Growing up isn’t a one-time thing. There’s no magic point where you’re just grown up and you make the right decisions all of the time.”
“Well that stinks.”
Her mom actually smiled. “Anyway, the important thing now I guess is that we’re all safe, and you’re going to be okay, and we can all go home together when the gate opens again.”
A weight dropped into Quinn’s stomach so suddenly that she was very glad for the medicine William had given her – without it, she might have thrown up again right then.
She stared down at her hands, remembering the conversation she’d had with Linnea while she was finishing getting ready.
“Your mother isn’t going to like what you have to say, Quinn,” Linnea had said. “You have to understand that and be ready for it. There’s nothing you can do, no amount of explaining that’s going to change that. In time, she might learn how to be okay with it, but not tonight. You still have to tell her. You can’t dance around the issue, or try to soften the blow, or any of those things that ultimately fall into the category of not being honest with her. She deserves the truth, and she needs to hear it from you.”
She knew Linnea was right, knew that it was why she was in here alone with her mom. William would have stayed with her, to make it easier. Linnea and Thomas would have, too. But that wasn’t fair. This was between Quinn and Megan, and her mom did deserve to hear the truth from her.
“I’m not going home, Mom.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but she knew her mom heard, because suddenly she grew completely still.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . I might go back there sometimes, temporarily – to visit, to see you, but I’m going to live here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Quinn! You’re sixteen. You can’t just move out!”
“I’m almost seventeen. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. Sixteen is of age here. I’m an adult.”
“Well, in our world that’s still called kidnapping.”
Quinn took a deep breath. “So call the police, then, Mom. Tell them I’ve been kidnapped and I’m being held in a castle in a kingdom in another world.”
“You’re not even finished with high school!”
“I know. But that doesn’t matter here, either.”
“Why, Quinn? Why are you doing this? Is your life with me and Jeff and Annie and Owen really so terrible that you feel the need to run off and live like a fairy tale princess? Is that it? Is it because we don’t live in a castle with servants running around, catering to your every whim?”
Her jaw dropped. “Really, Mom? That’s what you think of me?” Tears threatened behind her eyes again, but she wasn’t going to let them win.
“Is this about William, then? You’re going to leave your family and run off after a boy at seventeen?”
Quinn bit her tongue, fighting back the rising anger that would only make things worse if she allowed it to get hold of her. Her mother was upset. Very upset, and she had a good reason to be. She was going to say things she might not mean.
She waited for her mother to get it out of her system, to finish yelling, finish what she needed to say. And then she allowed silence to settle between them for a long moment before she spoke.
Her hand drifted up to the necklace that Linnea had helped her put on – her gold birth pendant. She held it, rubbing the etched surfaces between her thumb and forefinger.
“My father lied to you.”
“No kidding. He told me his family was loving and supportive and that they would never do something like come and try to take my child away.”
The tears almost won this time, she had to look away for a second while she blinked and wiped under her eyes with her sleeve. “Look, Mom . . . I know you’re upset, and that you have every right to be. But I’m trying to talk to you here. You aren’t going to like this conversation. I can’t change that – and neither can you. But we could try to talk and understand each other without saying mean things that we’ll regret later. Please?”
Megan’s eyes were red and damp again, too, but after a moment, she nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll try. But I don’t think it’s a given yet that I’m going to lose this argument.”
She nodded. That was okay. Her mother didn’t have to accept everything tonight. “So long as you let me be honest with you about what my intentions are.”
“Fine. So Samuel lied to me about what, exactly?”
“Who he was. Who his family is. Because Stephen and Charlotte are not his family.”
“I know Stephen is only his cousin or something, Quinn. He never told me much about his real parents. He told me he went to live with Stephen’s parents when he was a teenager – they were his aunt and uncle, I think.”
“Well, they might have been very distantly related, but they were not his actual aunt and uncle.”
“No, you’re right. He did say they were more distantly related – otherwise William would be your cousin. I know all of this. He didn’t lie about it. I don’t know why you think he did. I know he wasn’t really a prince or anything special. And that was fine with me. It was bad enough I was marrying someone from another planet.”
Quinn rolled her eyes at the planet remark, but decided not to comment. “Because that’s the part he lied about, Mom – the part about not really being a prince.”
Megan raised an eyebrow.
“He was a prince. Not of Eirentheos – the kingdom we’re in now, Stephen’s kingdom. He was the prince of another kingdom. Philotheum. And he wasn’t just any prince. He was the firstborn. The heir to the throne. He was supposed to be the king.”
There was a long pause.
“And what? So you’re the long-lost princess or something?”
Quinn closed her eyes, pulling a deep breath in through her nose. “Something like that.”
“Did you ever think that maybe the reason your father didn’t ever tell us those things is because that’s not what he wanted for you? Maybe he didn’t want to be the king. Nathaniel’s his brother – that makes him a prince, too, right? Why doesn’t he go be the
king?”
“It doesn’t work that way. Look, Mom . . . I don’t want to do this right now. It’s been a really horrible couple of days; I’m not feeling that well, and we don’t have to figure this all out tonight. You’re here now, and so we have time. Can we just . . . I’ve missed you, and it would be nice to spend some time with you and I don’t want us to argue the whole time. And I really, really, want to see Annie and Owen.”
And a nap. More than anything, she wanted a nap. Preferably with her head against William’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Not questioning her every sentence, just listening, the way he always did.
“Please, Mom?”
Megan took a deep breath, and Quinn could see that she was trying to calm herself. Finally, she nodded. “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. So much.”
“I know, Mom.”
“You know the other reason I came – I think part of me was just looking for any excuse to come to you – I couldn’t handle the thought of not seeing you on your birthday.”
She frowned. “My birthday’s not for…” But she stopped, because she hadn’t even thought about it, didn’t even know what the date was back in her world.
“Your birthday is tomorrow, Quinn. Or today, or whatever. I don’t know what day it is in our world now.”
“I didn’t even realize that. I had forgotten all about it. I don’t even know how it works here…what day my birthday is on, here.”
Her mom scooted closer and put her arms carefully around Quinn’s shoulders, hugging her gently, and stroking her hair. “Well, I didn’t want to miss it. I wanted you to be home for it. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.” She ignored the “home” part of her mother’s words, but she could tell from the tone that this conversation was far from over.
They stayed like that for several moments before Quinn finally pulled back. “Where are Annie and Owen?”
“Last I knew they were in a big playroom with a bunch of little kids. Annie was having the time of her life. That brother of William’s – Thomas? He was in there playing with them – really had them all going. He’s a nice kid.”
Quinn smiled. “Yes, he is.”
“If you were going to date one of them, why didn’t you pick him?”
She rolled her eyes. “William’s a nice guy too, Mom, once you get to know him.”
* * *
Walking into the common room was a strange experience. Quinn had only been gone from the castle for one night, but the room fell silent when she appeared in the doorway with William and her mother.
William had his hand under her elbow, helping her walk, which was clearly bugging her mother, but she didn’t really know what to do about it. With half her leg still numb, she kind of needed the support.
Most of the family was in the common room, though many of the youngest children were across the hall in the playroom – Quinn could hear the shrieking. Stephen wasn’t there, and neither were Simon and Maxwell – Quinn suspected they were busy with everything that was going on – but everyone else was. Charlotte sat at the far end of the room, chatting with Rebecca, who was nursing the new baby.
Charlotte looked up immediately when Quinn entered, and she almost stood, but then settled back, restraining herself – probably trying to be respectful of Megan.
Thomas and Linnea were there, and so were William’s next-youngest brothers, Joshua and Daniel.
Everyone looked concerned, and Quinn knew she would have to deal with – and hug, every one of them in turn, but the instant focus of her attention in the room was the little boy who stood up from the low table where he was working a complicated puzzle, and bolted toward her.
“Owen!”
He carefully wrapped himself around her right side, somehow knowing just how to avoid her injury, and she squeezed him as tightly as she could, leaning down and kissing his head. Oh . . . he’d had a bath, and smelled of the soap the children in the castle used. It was such a strange combination of scents – both of her homes mixed together in the soft brown hair of the little boy she loved.
Blinking back tears, she cleared her throat. “Hey, buddy. How are you doing?”
He looked up at her. “I was worried about you.”
“I know you were. I was worried about you, too. Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve never been in a castle before. Did you know they really do have a gate on the front door?”
“They have them on all of the entrances. I’ll take you and show you soon, okay?”
His eyes lit up, and Quinn knew he was all right. “You should sit down,” he said, nodding toward her leg, even though her bandage was hidden by her long skirt. He studied William for a second, and then put her arm over his shoulder, and helped lead her over to one of the overstuffed armchairs.
William chuckled quietly, but didn’t say anything as he helped Quinn ease herself down, and Owen pulled more pillows from the other chairs. A warm feeling filled her chest as she watched William’s careful interaction with her little brother. He showed Owen how to adjust the pillows, somehow making the little boy feel instantly important and included.
Owen noticed, she could tell, even though he hadn’t yet spoken to William – probably wouldn’t for a while, even. It took Owen time to get comfortable with new people. But he allowed William to stand close to him, and in the end, when Quinn was settled in the chair, he gave her a small smile before retreating back to his puzzle.
Charlotte couldn’t wait any longer. As soon as Quinn was sitting down, she hurried across the room.
Several emotions warred in the queen’s eyes as she knelt by the chair, pulling Quinn into her arms. Anger and fear and relief were all there, but the only one she immediately poured onto her was love.
“Thank the Maker,” she whispered into her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here. Are you really all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Not too itchy or hot?”
She shook her head. “William gave me some medicine and some lotion to help.”
“Okay,” Charlotte said, kissing her on the head before turning her attention to William, and wrapping him in an enormous hug.
For the second time in the few minutes she’d been in the common room, Quinn had to swallow back the lump in her throat. Why couldn’t it have been that easy with her own mother?
10. Big Decisions
The sun had barely dipped below the horizon when William insisted on taking Quinn back to her room. He could see that she was trying to stay awake, but she could barely keep her eyes open, and she’d started wincing just holding baby Hannah on her lap, and had to hand her off to Thomas.
“Isn’t it a little early for bed?” she asked, as he opened her door.
“Are you honestly telling me that you could stay awake and keep visiting with everyone?”
“Good point,” she answered, unable to hold back a yawn. Her protest rang hollow anyway, since she hadn’t objected at all when he’d suggested it in front of everyone.
“Besides, you really have been off the IV long enough.” He walked her over to her couch, where they’d left his supplies when he disconnected her earlier so she could go to the common room and have dinner with her family.
“I ate. And drank water, too.”
He smiled – she was so determined not to seem helpless. Was she worried she was bothering him? He hoped not – while he wished, for her sake, that she didn’t need him to, he kind of liked taking care of her. “You’re going to have to keep down more than six bites of vegetable stew and half a cup of water before I take you off this thing for good, love.”
“Were you counting?”
“I am a doctor – it’s kind of my job. Anyway, even if you didn’t need the fluids, you do still need another dose of the anti-viral – and some real pain meds now.”
She sighed, but, thankfully, didn’t object this time.
“Can you get yourself into your pajamas, or do you want me to get Linnea or Mia to help you?”
&n
bsp; “I’ll do it. I’m actually kind of glad you dragged me out of the common room. I’m a little peopled out right now.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No!” The intensity of her answer surprised him, and made his breath catch in his throat. “Sorry. I mean, no, I don’t want you to leave right now.”
He smiled, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not a people?”
“You’re the only person I want right now, that’s all.”
He didn’t have the words to describe how that sentence made him feel, all he could do was pull her into his arms and hold her tight against him, feeling the reassuring weight of her against his chest, and her warm breath on his shoulder.
Her leg brushed against his, though, and she winced.
He pulled back immediately. “Is your leg hurting again?”
“I’m fine.” She started walking toward her armoire.
He sighed at her stubbornness. “Where are your pajamas?”
“Third drawer, but I’ll get them. I need to go brush my teeth and stuff anyway.”
But he was faster than she was. He was already at the armoire digging in her drawer by the time she had finished her sentence. He pulled out a nightgown, and crossed back to her, putting his arm under hers, and helping her to the bathroom door without putting weight on her leg.
“How long are you going to treat me like an invalid?” she asked, when he was waiting outside the bathroom door to half-carry her to her bed.
“As long as I can get away with having an excuse to touch you more than usual,” he said, grinning, as he lifted her onto the sheets.
“You’re in an awfully good mood considering the crappy day we’ve had.”
“It wasn’t all crappy.” He took her hand and started re-connecting the tubing. “And I thought it ended pretty well. I had fun spending time with Owen and Annie.”
“Owen really likes you,” she said.
He liked Owen, too. The little boy had kept to himself in a corner most of the evening, drawing and playing with blocks, but he was watchful. More than once he’d run over to retrieve something for Quinn that she hadn’t even asked for yet.
Blooms of Consequence (Dusk Gate Chronicles - Book Four) Page 11