Leaving Bluestone

by Fredrick, MJ

  “It won’t be as bad as you think.”

  “They are not pleasant people, Lily.”

  “You hadn’t seen them in years, and then you saw them in the worst situation a person could be in. Of course they weren’t pleasant. Give them a chance, Quinn.”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” Already the wind was battering against the walls of the bar. “I can’t send them back home.”

  “We’ll make the best of it. I have room at the Landing. They can have two cabins if they want. And who knows? It may not be as bad as you think.”

  He scowled. “When exactly did you become friends with Tammy?”

  “She called to see how you were doing. Didn’t you talk to her when the baby was born?”

  “Liam called, yeah, and I sent a card or something. But they didn’t say anything about coming for Christmas.”

  “Tammy said that Jared had a girlfriend and was spending the holiday with her family, and Rose was spending the holiday with her husband’s family—”

  “Which tells you a lot about my family, that all the children want to spend the holiday elsewhere.”

  She gave him a quelling look. “So I said it’s so pretty up here at Christmas, and so I guess she decided they should come.”

  “They should have called first.”

  “They wanted to surprise you, Quinn. It’s your mom’s first Christmas without your dad. Please, let’s make it a good one for her.” She stepped back and placed her hand on the door.

  He blew out a long breath. She was right. Now was no time to think about all the miserable Christmases. None could compare to what his mom must be feeling now. He nodded shortly. At least Lily had the sense not to smile her triumph as she opened the door.

  As they walked into the bar, the door swung open and a big man ushered three kids and a woman inside. All of them were covered with snow, bundled head to foot. With a cry, Lily sprang forward to greet them, getting herself wet with the snow from their clothing.

  “Did you walk here?” Luke Prater asked his son as he bent to unwrap the smallest child from its layers of clothing.

  “Just across the parking lot from the landing,” Will Prater laughed. “Man, now I remember why I don’t live here anymore.”

  Lily, still bouncing, grabbed Quinn’s hand and dragged him forward. “Quinn, you remember my brother Will and his wife JoAnn? Their kids Sarah, Joy and Tim.”

  Vivian stepped forward and guided her grandchildren to the tree they’d set up in the corner behind the door. “This, kids, is your project the next two days. Make this tree gorgeous. Think you’re up for it?”

  “You guys are probably hungry,” Quinn said, stepping back toward the bar. “What can I get everyone?”

  So they spent the evening eating and decorating the tree while the storm raged around them. He’d never seen a tree quite like it—decorations made from straws and napkins, a paper umbrella here and there. Liam’s two oldest daughters, Kimmy and Jessie, made a wary friendship with Will’s girls and son. Lily had helped the kids, folding napkins together in tiny triangles and hooking them together to form a garland. After he’d served everyone and sent home his staff, he sat cautiously near his brother and met his new niece. He was aware of Lily watching.

  “Maybe we should go get everyone settled in,” he said to her.

  She nodded. “I’m glad I started the heat in the cabins before we came over. They should be nice and toasty when we get there.”

  While everyone bundled up, Quinn salted the steps, and he and Lily led their families to the cabins. His mother decided to stay in one with Liam, Tammy and the girls, which no doubt made Liam happy.

  “I don’t see how you can live in a place with weather like this,” his mother said as he closed the door behind them. The wind still whined around them, but the cabin was cozy.

  “The summers make up for it.”

  “All three weeks,” Liam laughed.

  “Just about. You’ll be warm enough in here. I think Lily stocked some basics, but there’s breakfast at the diner if you’d rather go out.”

  “Not at your place?” his mother asked.

  “No, ma’am, I don’t usually open until lunch time.”

  She huffed. “I suppose I could cook, though it is my vacation.”

  “Like I said, the diner is good, and it’s not far.”

  “What do you eat for breakfast?” his mother asked.

  “I don’t usually.”

  “Lily doesn’t cook for you?”

  That surprised a laugh out of him. “No, ma’am, but sometimes I cook for her.”

  “You’ll be spending the night at her place, I suppose.”

  “Or she’ll come to mine. We’re adults, Mom.”

  “And her parents don’t mind?”

  “If they did, we’d tell them the same. Now, do you have anything else you need before I go?”

  She looked around the cabin, opened the refrigerator, then the cabinets, sighed, then shook her head. “We’ll be fine until morning. I presume you have a grocery store in this place.”

  He blew out a breath through his nose, hunting for his depleting reserve of patience. “No, Ma, we all have to hunt for our own food. Of course we do. It opens at eight. Maybe later tomorrow because of the storm.”

  “We’ll manage. Good night.”

  As he stalked out of the cabin, he wanted to know why she couldn’t be gracious, just once, like Lily’s mom.

  Lily was waiting for him outside her house, huddled deep inside her padded coat. “Want to stay here?”

  He wanted as much distance between himself and his mother right now, but Lily’s bed was warm and cozy. And nearby. “Sure.” He looped an arm around her waist and hauled her backwards into the warm house, locking his lips over hers as he locked the door behind them.

  ***

  Quinn, Will, Luke and Liam had the paths shoveled before breakfast, which Vivian made and generously invited everyone to. Since there were so many of them, Quinn offered to open the bar early so they wouldn’t be crowded. Lily was aware that Quinn kept a distance from his mother, and that his mother complained about the cold, and gripped tightly to Liam’s arm for fear of falling. She winced with Will’s kids started running around throwing loose snowballs at each other.

  “Will, your kids are out of practice,” Lily teased as they trooped up to the bar, carrying platters of scrambled egg casserole, waffles and sausage. “Don’t worry, kids. Quinn and I will show you how to make a proper snowball after breakfast.” She grinned at Quinn, who looked a little pale at the prospect. She nudged him. “Come on, it will be fun.”

  After they cleaned up from breakfast—there weren’t any leftovers—Lily and Tammy bundled the kids back up. Lily motioned for Quinn to follow her.

  “I’ve got to open up—” He tried to back out.

  “In a couple of hours. We won’t keep them out too long. Come on, when is the last time you had a good snowball fight?” She grabbed the front of his flannel shirt and rose onto her toes to kiss his mouth.

  “You love this, don’t you?”

  She did. She loved having her family here, all the noise and the bustle and the laughing. She loved that Quinn was part of it, though she had to drag him kicking and screaming. She supposed she understood his mother’s lack of enthusiasm, given that she was among strangers in a strange place, without her husband for the first Christmas. But Lily wasn’t going to surrender.

  She waited, as impatient as the kids, as Quinn dragged on his coat, gloves, scarf and hat. If she took the kids down without him, she knew he’d find an excuse not to come down.

  Together they all tromped down the stairs and across the parking lot to the park beside the church. The kids gathered around Lily as she scooped up some snow and showed them the proper way to pack a snowball. Then she straightened, let it fly, and it exploded all over the front of Quinn’s coat.

  “Hey, now,” he protested as the children followed suit. “I didn’t come out here to be a target.”<
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  “That’s what you think,” Lily teased.

  His eyes sparked with playful retribution as he scooped up his own handful of snow. She squealed and herded the kids in front of her to hide behind a tree. Still, sprays of exploding snowballs showered them as they madly packed balls for return fire. She was shaking with laughter, so couldn’t pack as quickly as she used to.

  “He’s coming! He’s coming!” Sarah’s warning held delighted terror.

  Lily stepped from behind the tree, armed, and drew his fire while the kids pelted him from the safety of the tree. When he raised his arms to ward off the barrage, Lily snuck around behind him and tucked one down the neck of his coat. He whirled, faster than she expected, and took her down into a snow drift, knocking the breath out of her as he fell on top of her. He was laughing when he leaned down to kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck and arched into him, only to have the kiss interrupted by flying snowballs, squeals of disgust, and a shout from the deck of the bar.

  “That isn’t really what I want you teaching my children!” Will called down.

  Lily rolled from beneath Quinn with a laugh and led the charge toward her brother, who fortunately for him, was too high for his children’s range. He threatened to go back inside, but the children taunted him to come down, and he did. Lily led the children against her brother, and then he led them against her. A few moments passed before she realized Quinn was no longer playing, but leaning against a tree and watching. She waved, but didn’t stop, and the next time she looked, he was gone. Tammy and Liam joined them, though, playing with their daughters and teasing Luke’s kids. Joy ran through her veins. This was as good as it got.

  ***

  Quinn used the excuse that he needed to get ready to open up so that he wouldn’t be drawn into the conversation between Lily’s parents and his mother, who was watching the baby in one of those carriers sitting on the table. He felt a twinge of guilt, more for leaving the Praters with his sullen mother than for leaving his mother with strangers. He heard the door close a few moments later, and looked up to see the Praters had gone out. Most of the cookware was gone, so he figured they’d taken it back to the cabin. His mother was alone with the baby, so she picked up the baby carrier and brought it to the bar.

  “So this is the place you chose over coming home.”

  “Yep.”

  “It seems to be a nice place, for a bar.”

  “It’s a bar and grill, and we use it for a lot of social gatherings. My friend Leo and his wife had their reception here.”

  “Not in a church hall?”

  “The church hall is pretty small, and doesn’t have a kitchen. Lily spruced this place up, of course.”

  “She’s something, your Lily.”

  A grin canted his lips. He didn’t even flinch at the label his mother had given her. “She has more energy than those kids.”

  “I see that. It surprises me that you’re drawn to that.”

  “She has her own gravitational pull, that’s for sure.”

  “Are you going to marry her?”

  “I don’t know.” Of all people to give him advice on getting married, he wasn’t going to listen to his mother.

  “She would be good for you, I think.”

  “Probably.”

  “She makes you smile.”

  He hadn’t seen his mother in years, so how did she know he didn’t smile? He didn’t respond.

  “It’s hell to be alone.”

  “I’m not,” he said, before thinking it through. She wasn’t talking about him. She was talking about herself.

  “I know, I see that, and I’m glad.”

  That surprised him. She started to walk away and he covered her hand with his.

  “Ma. You doing okay? Since Dad’s gone?”

  Her blue eyes flashed with surprise, and her shoulders slumped a little. “I miss driving to the hospital every day. I never thought I would, but I do. I hated it when I was doing it, but now…something’s missing.”

  He didn’t know what to say—why he’d even asked, except that it seemed like the thing to do.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she sucked in a breath and nodded. “I know you are. I am too.”

  When she turned away, he got the feeling she meant for more than the loss of his father.

  The door opened and Lily came in, bright-eyed and bright-cheeked, herding her nieces and nephew and his nieces ahead of her.

  “You guys sit and I’ll get some hot chocolate.”

  He moved out of her way so she could get the milk and chocolate syrup he kept on hand for Max. She fetched it out of the refrigerator, and dragged a hand across his ass playfully as she headed back to the kitchen.

  He found himself smiling as he raised his gaze to meet his mother’s.

  ***

  Two mornings later, Christmas morning, Quinn tapped the card against his palm. Two tickets to Palm Beach, Florida, four nights in a hotel on the beach, the week after the winter carnival. The idea of giving it to Lily—of knowing it was two months in the future, that so much could happen between now and then—scared the hell out of him.

  “Come on,” she urged from the bedroom door, already dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair brushed back into a sleek ponytail. “Everyone will be here in just a minute.”

  The night before the women had made coffee cakes and cinnamon rolls and quiche, things that could be easily heated up so they could celebrate the holiday. They’d decided to do it in Lily’s living room, though it would be crowded, especially with the six extra people from his family. The area beneath the tree was already crammed with presents, most for the kids, and one suspiciously long package with no name.

  He dropped the card on the dresser and followed her into the living room just as the first knock came to the door. On the other side, he heard the excited chatter of the kids, and when Lily opened the door, Will’s three barreled past her to drop to their knees under the tree. Quinn stood back against the wall and watched the kids. He’d never experienced that excitement on Christmas morning. He’d never had quite the haul as these kids, either, or the doting grandparents. He didn’t remember his grandparents at all, for that matter.

  Lily knelt beside the kids and helped sort out presents. Another knock—barely heard over the ruckus—was answered by Vivian, and his family walked in, bearing gifts, looking as out of place as he felt. Vivian welcomed them with quick hugs, took the gifts and passed them to Lily to place under the tree.

  “Should we eat first?” Vivian asked, her smiling gaze on her grandchildren.

  Cries of protest filled the small house, and Vivian laughed and perched on the edge of the sofa to watch the kids tear in. JoAnn produced a camera and took pictures. Lily stayed in the middle of it, looking so happy. She flashed a smile at him, just when he was ready to retreat. He smiled back, then slipped into the kitchen to start the coffee maker.

  When he returned to the living room, the kids’ presents were opened and Lily was passing out the gifts to the adults. He noticed that even his mom, Liam, Tammy and the kids had gifts from Lily and her family. Hell, Quinn hadn’t had time to get them anything. Hadn’t even thought of it until this morning.

  His mother handed a gift to Lily, who looked at the card and passed it to Quinn. He hesitated a moment, until everyone was opening their own presents and he opened to see a nice leather wallet inside. He remembered his dad had had one just like it. He met her gaze across the room and gave her a small smile, guilty that he hadn’t reciprocated.

  Then Lily appeared in front of him, holding the long package in both hands. “It’s kind of hard to disguise what this is.”

  His grin softened as he took it from her, and he opened the package carefully under her watchful gaze.

  The most beautiful rod and reel he’d ever seen were in there. “Ah, Lily. It’s perfect. I can’t wait to try it out. Thank you.” He bent and kissed her, holding the rod and reel to the side. He
didn’t want to give her her gift yet, not in front of everyone. “Later, okay? I don’t want to share it.”

  Disappointment creased her face for a moment before she smiled in understanding and stepped back. “Are you ever going to stop being such a private man?”

  “I’m not going to get a chance, am I?” he asked, nodding toward the group. “I’ll get the coffee.”

  The chaos moved to the kitchen, the adults surrounding the coffee Lily set out on the counter, along with assorted creams and sugars. She put on another pot as Quinn cut and served the coffee cake—like the kids needed more sugar—and his mother served the quiche.

  His mother somehow gravitated next to him.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get you anything,” he said.

  She shook her head. “That’s not what it’s about. I just wanted to give you a token, was all.”

  He nodded. Still, he hadn’t even given his mother a card. His brother circled around and hugged him. Quinn tensed, met Lily’s gaze, and forced himself to relax.

  But once everyone was served and eating—he shouldn’t have worried about the kids because they barely touched their food, so anxious to play with their new toys—he slipped back into the living room, thinking.

  When he walked out, another knock sounded at the door. Since everyone else was in the kitchen, he opened the door to see Paula Lipton, the postmistress.

  “Is Lily here?”

  “Sure.” He turned to bring Paula into the already-claustrophobic place and turned to call Lily, but she must have heard because she was already in the kitchen doorway.

  “Hi, Paula. What’s going on?”

  “I got this yesterday but didn’t have a chance to go through it until this morning, and then I just had to show you.” The postmistress drew out a copy of Outdoor Enjoyment Magazine, and folded it open to a page, then passed it to Lily.

  Quinn stepped up behind her to read it. The headline was, “Top Ten Best Places for a Family Vacation.” And there, at number seven, was Bluestone Lake, accompanied by a stunning picture of the landing overlooking the lake, and another showing the townspeople sitting on the green watching the Friday movie projected on the wall of the Boysen building.