Radclyffe - Fated Love

by Fated Love (lit)

  "What's that?" Linda asked, waving Honor away. "Oh, sure."

  "Linda, is she all right?"

  When Linda stepped back a pace, it was all Honor could do not to follow her in an attempt to hear the conversation. With a start, she realized that she desperately wanted to hear Quinn's voice. She wanted to ask her how her shoulder was, and how she'd slept, and if she was having a problem with her heart rhythm. She wanted to tell her how much it had meant to her that they'd talked the night before.

  "...372. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Great. Sure, no problem. See you later, maybe."

  When Linda replaced the receiver and turned, Honor was an inch away. Linda jumped in surprise. "God, what is with you today?"

  "Nothing." Honor flushed and backed up a step. With effort, she managed to quell the anxiety that had skyrocketed the moment that she realized Quinn was on the line. Trying to sound casual, she asked, "Everything okay?"

  Linda cocked her head and studied her friend. "You first."

  "What?" Honor asked impatiently.

  "You tell me what's going on with you first, and maybe I'll tell you why Quinn called." Linda folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the counter, looking resolute and unswayable.

  Exasperated, Honor ran a hand through her hair, feeling her temper rise again. "I don't know. Just one of those days, I guess."

  "You don't usually have days when you snap at everyone, don't feel like eating, and act like you're about to crawl out of your skin."

  "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind." Honor sighed and gave Linda a rueful grin. "Honest. Forgive me?"

  " Oh, okay." Linda put her arm around Honor's shoulders and gave her a hug. "I'm not sure I believe you, but I still love you."

  "Thanks. So," Honor said intently, "what's happening with Quinn?"

  "I was about, to ask you that." Linda's expression was completely serious. "It's not her shoulder that's keeping her from working, is it."

  Caught off guard, Honor looked away. "There are few administrative issues that need to be ironed out. Hopefully, this is just temporary."

  "Hopefully?" Linda caught her breath in surprise. "Are you kidding? You can't seriously be thinking of letting her go."

  "Do you think I'd want to?" The words were out before Honor could stop them, and she could tell by the expression on Linda's face that her distress was apparent. Instantly feeling exposed, she withdrew. "I need to get back to work. Just tell me, is she all right?"

  "Sounds like it. She wants our home phone number to ask Robin where soccer practice is going to be this afternoon."

  "Damn it. She can't coach with that shoulder."

  "You might be able to keep her out of the ER, Honor," Linda said quietly. "But I don't think your authority extends as far as the soccer field."

  The criticism in her friend's tone hurt, but Honor could hardly blame her since she wasn't explaining anything. And she couldn't give Linda the details of Quinn's absence because it would compromise Quinn's privacy even further. And even more importantly, she couldn't explain her own behavior since she didn't fully understand herself what she was feeling. Wordlessly, she picked up another chart and went back to work.

  * * * * *

  "So what's the deal?" Robin asked as she and Quinn walked across the grass at Green Street Friends School to the far end of the soccer field. Kim, Dennis, and Arly had raced on ahead as soon as they'd piled out of Robin's minivan. "Is your shoulder keeping you from working?"

  "No, it's coming along okay." Quinn had decided that morning that she'd had enough of the immobilizer. It'd been almost forty-eight hours, and it was time to start moving the joint again. "I just have a couple of days off, and I figured I might as well get my feet wet."

  "Yeah, well, your feet are about the only part of you that's gonna get any exercise. You take it easy with that shoulder today."

  "Yes, Coach." Quinn grinned. "Got it."

  Laughing, Robin said, "Linda would have my hide if I let you get hurt. I imagine Honor would be standing in line to help her."

  At the mention of Honor's name, Quinn's smile faltered. She'd been honest with Robin when she'd said that she wanted to help out at practice. What she hadn 't said was that she'd been going crazy sitting around her apartment, wondering what was happening at work. Not just whether Honor had met with the hospital attorneys or Mary Ann Jones, but what Honor was doing, what she was thinking. Whether she was thinking of Quinn at all.

  But why would she be? She's already made it perfectly clear what her feelings are. Or aren 't.

  Quinn shrugged, then bit back a wince at the sudden tension on her shoulder joint. "I'll just help run the drills and whatever else you need me to do."

  If Robin heard the strained edge in Quinn's voice, she made no comment. Instead, she introduced Quinn to Dave Clark, the other coach, and within a few minutes, Quinn was caught up in the bubbling enthusiasm of the young soccer players. The hour and a half sped by, and before she knew it, she was supervising the kids as they packed up the team's gear.

  "Quinn!" Arly called, breaking away from a group of teammates and racing over. "Are you going to have supper with us at Linda and Robin's?"

  "I don't think so, kiddo. Not tonight."

  Robin grabbed the gear bag and hefted it to her shoulder. "That's a great idea, Quinn. I'm cooking tonight, so you can just hang out while I get things ready. What do you say?"

  Quinn was torn. She had nothing waiting for her at home. She enjoyed Robin and Linda's company, and the kids', too. But staying for dinner almost certainly meant running into Honor, if not actually sharing the meal with her. After the clear boundaries Honor had set the evening before, Quinn wasn't certain it was a good idea to see her socially, at least not so soon. It was time to get their relationship back on a purely professional basis.

  "I appreciate the offer, Robin, but I'm a little bit tired. I'll take a rain check, if you don't mind."

  "Sure. No problem. Next time, then."

  Arly made a disappointed face and grumbled. "Why can't you come, Quinn? You wouldn't have to help make dinner or anything, I could do that."

  Quinn bent down until she was eye level with the little girl. "That's really nice of you. You remember I hurt my arm, right?"

  Arly nodded.

  "Well, it's almost better, but I think I need to take a nap so it can get better faster. Okay?"

  "Okay," Arly agreed seriously. "But maybe next time, right?"

  "Yes," Quinn said softly. "Maybe next time."

  * * * * *

  Honor didn't make it in time for supper, arriving to collect Arly at a little before eight.

  "I packed up some leftovers for you," Linda said when Honor came into the kitchen.

  "Thanks." Honor dropped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and sighed. Linda stood at the counter packing Tupperware containers into a plastic shopping bag, and the sight reminded Honor of just how precious Linda's friendship was to her. "I'm sorry about being such an ass at work today."

  Linda turned and gave her a long look. "You want to tell me now what's going on?"

  "I can't." Honor pushed the salt shaker back and forth on the table restlessly. "It would be a breach in confidentiality."

  "Okay," Linda said thoughtfully as she sat down next to Honor, "Since I already know it has to do with Quinn, just tell me this. Is there something serious going on with her heart?"

  "I can't play twenty questions, Linda. It's not right."

  "I haven't seen you this out of sorts in a long time." Linda rested her hand on Honor's, squeezing gently. "I just want to help."

  "I know you do. And if I could tell you, believe me, I would." Honor blew out an exasperated breath. "Did you see Quinn tonight?"

  "She stopped in for a second to say hi after practice. She's so cute."

  Completely involuntarily, Honor's heart tripped. "Did she seem...okay?"

  "Quiet. Her shoulder seems better." Linda narrowed her eyes, watching Honor's gaze grow distant. "Why?"

  "
No reason. Did she...mention me at all?"

  Linda hesitated. "No. She didn't."

  "Well," Honor said, rising quickly. "I need to get home. I'll see you in the morning."

  "I'll pick you up at the usual time." Linda stood as well. "Get some rest, okay? You look worn out."

  "I'm fine." Honor forced a smile. "Just fine."

  Chapter Seventeen

  A ttorneys, Honor thought. Why is it impossible for them to say anything using simple words and sentences of less than two paragraphs? God.

  Her head ached and her stomach roiled queasily. The meeting with Administration had been more difficult than she 'd anticipated. Discussing Quinn in her absence, dissecting her medical condition and quantifying her liability risk as if she were no more than a hypothetical problem to be analyzed, had left Honor feeling disloyal and self-serving. Quinn was so much more than just a "new hire" who presented a thorny dilemma for risk-management. She was a talented surgeon with the noblest of intentions who was doing her best under difficult circumstances, and she didn't deserve to have her career threatened because everyone in medicine was running scared of the word lawsuit.

  And I'm one of them. What's happened to me? When did I become so afraid of doing the right thing?

  Disgusted with herself, Honor walked back to the emergency room, fighting the overwhelming urge to see Quinn. She 'd thought of little else for two days. In between dealing with the responsibilities of work and family, her mind had been consumed with Quinn. It had become practically impossible for her to distinguish between what she ought to do as an administrator and what she wanted to do as a friend.

  Friends. That's what I told her we were. I certainly haven't acted like much of one. And she never once complained or tried to use our..relationship to her advantage.

  Honor glanced at her watch.

  5:45. They're probably still at the soccer field.

  She hunted down Brian Vaughn, one of the ER attendings. "I need to take off early, Brian. Is everything under control here?"

  The sandy-haired, freckle-faced man gave an unconcerned shrug. "Is it ever?"

  "Sorry." Honor grinned. "Wrong choice of words. Can you handle things?"

  "Sure. It's dinnertime." He pointed to the To Be Seen rack, which held only three new charts. "You know we won't see the heavy nighttime action until after eight. By then the swing shift will be in, and we'll have plenty of people. Go ahead. We're good here."

  "Thanks." Honor's spirits lifted immediately. As she turned and headed for the exit, she promised, "I'll owe you a couple of hours for this."

  "Don't worry," he called after her. "I'll collect the next time my wife wants me to show up for some after-school kids' thing."

  Since it was Linda's day off, Honor had driven her own car to work, and she was on the road in five minutes and pulling into a parking space adjacent to the playing fields in ten. Robin's sturdy form, running along the sideline, gesticulating to the young players, was easily discernible. Quinn, recognizable even from a distance in gym shorts and a T-shirt, worked with a small group of children who were lined up in two facing rows doing drills. Honor sat behind the wheel, observing Quinn demonstrate a passing technique, running agilely as she manipulated the ball with her feet. Watching her, Honor got the same impression of confidence, skill, and natural ability that she'd seen Quinn display during surgery.

  The children, one of whom was Arly, mimicked Quinn's every move like a line of baby ducks. Honor smiled, unable to look anywhere but at the charismatic woman who seemed to have no idea of her own allure.

  Quinn Maguire, Do you do everything so naturally, as if you were born knowing how? The Pied Piper, indeed.

  Five minutes passed while Honor debated the wisdom of her decision to come. Now that she really thought about it, it hardly seemed suitable to track Quinn down personally during non-work hours to discuss business. It would probably be more appropriate-not to mention more professional—to telephone Quinn either that evening or the next morning to set up an appointment. Honor gripped the key that was still in the ignition but stopped before starting the engine.

  On the other hand, Quinn is coaching my daughter's soccer team, and it is perfectly natural for me, as a parent, to stop by to observe.

  Before she could admit the transparency of her rationalizations, Honor got out of the car and started across the field.

  "Mom!" Arly shouted excitedly as she broke away from the group of children and ran in Honor's direction.

  Quinn trapped the ball beneath her foot and turned to look across the green, her mouth going suddenly dry when she saw the woman approaching. To glance up and unexpectedly see Honor brought a swift rush of pleasure that was momentarily paralyzing. All she could do was stare, marveling at the way Honor's hair glinted gold in the sunlight, mesmerized by the way she moved, all long limbed and graceful and sure. Honor's mere presence had a way of making everything else in Quinn's world—every worry, every care, every fear—disappear, and that was an exhilarating, terrifying experience. Even though she knew that it was folly, the sensation was too good to wish away.

  "Hi," Honor said as she stopped a few feet from Quinn, one arm going out automatically to hug Arly close to her side. She leaned down and kissed the top of her daughter's head. "Hi, sweetheart."

  "Quinn taught us a new passing drill today, Mom. I was really good at it."

  "I bet you were great." Honor unconsciously stroked Arly's shoulder as she kept her eyes on Quinn, trying to determine her welcome. She had anticipated that Quinn would at the very least be angry with her, if not outright adversarial. With sweet relief, she realized that anger wasn't what she saw in the depths of those blue eyes slowly searching her face. There were questions, to be sure, but much more crucial than that, there was welcome. For the first time in two days, Honor felt some of the tension slowly ebb from her body.

  "Hello." Quinn smiled, juggled the ball several times with her foot, causing it to bounce higher and higher, until she hooked her instep beneath it and then popped it up into her waiting arm.

  "Slick move," Honor deadpanned.

  A grin quirked the corner of Quinn's mouth. "It impresses the girls."

  "Can you teach me to do that?" Arly asked intently.

  Coloring instantly, Quinn's eyes dropped to Arly and then back to Honor in apology. "I...uh..."

  "I'll bet she can. But not right now."Honor ruffled her daughter's hair. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing those drills?"

  "Are you coming to dinner tonight, Quinn?" Arly made no move to leave.

  "Well..."

  "Quinn and I need to talk," Honor interjected seriously. "And you need to get back to your practice. Go on, go finish."

  Arly hesitated for another second, then ran off.

  "I'm sorry about that remark," Quinn said abjectly. "It just slipped out."

  "It's fine." Honor laughed and clasped Quinn's hand briefly. "It wasn't anything serious enough to worry about. It's not like she doesn't know that some girls like girls and some girls like boys, but I don't even think she noticed."

  Quinn glanced over to where the children were practicing. Parents stood around in small groups, conversing and occasionally calling out encouragement and praise to their children. There were a fair number of same-sex couples present. "Does she know about... I don't know, you know...the difference between being straight and not?"

  "Not exactly in those terms. She knows that some kids have a mom and dad, and some kids have just a mom or just a dad, and that some kids have two moms or two dads."

  Shaking her head, Quinn chuckled. "I'm not sure I could keep all that straight."

  "The reason that she goes to the school she does is that there are a lot of other kids from alternative families, too, so she's not different." Honor smiled. "And having Robin and Linda and Kim and Dennis as part of the family really helps."

  Quinn wanted to ask if Arly knew about Terry, but it didn't seem to be the time or place. She wasn't even sure why she wanted to know, except that ever
ything about Honor and Arly interested her. She cleared her throat.

  "So, did you just come to watch practice?"

  Honor shook her head. "No, I came to find you."

  "Oh?"

  "How much longer until practice is over?"

  Quinn glanced at the Timex watch, the one that her father had given her when she'd left for college. "Another fifteen minutes or so. But I have to make sure all the kids get home all right, so I might have to wait a few minutes until their rides show up."

  "How about I wait, and then we grab a bite to eat somewhere. I'd like to talk to you."

  "I'd need to change first," Quinn said, indicating her sweat-stained T-shirt and shorts.

  "Robin can take Arly back with her kids, and I can take you to your place. Will that work?"

  "It's a bit of a mess." Quinn considered that a blatant understatement, but at least the sofa was accessible, and she had orange juice in the refrigerator that she could offer as refreshment.

  "I think I can handle that."

  Before Quinn could reply, she heard her name being called. An instant later, warm fingers wrapped around her wrist and then slipped down to her hand.

  "Quinn! How's your shoulder?" Mandy smiled a brilliant smile as she entwined her fingers with Quinn's.and swung her right arm lightly. "We just finished an officials' meeting to finalize the game schedule, and I saw you over here. That was a nasty fall you took on Saturday." She pouted prettily. "You were gone before I could even see how you were doing."

  "It's fine. Much better." Quinn tried to extract her hand as she glanced quickly at Honor, whose brown eyes had darkened to a dangerous simmer.

  Following Quinn's gaze, Mandy spared a brief look in Honor's direction. "Oh, hi."

  "Hello, Mandy," Honor said steadily as she contemplated dismembering her.

  Mandy turned back to Quinn. "You know, my other day job is working as a massage therapist. I'm a very good Swedish masseuse." Her voice dropped low as she placed her other palm lightly in the center of Quinn's chest and rubbed gently. "I schedule sessions at the gym. It would be great for your shoulder."

  "Actually," Honor interjected conversationally, "it wouldn't. Right now, too much direct muscle stimulation is only going to produce more swelling. So I think you should probably desist from the laying on of hands."