One eyebrow rose and he chuckled. “Thanks for tearing your door off?”
“Better than spending the weekend in the bathroom.” She tucked a wayward strand of hair back into the bun on top of her head.
“Hey,” Britt said, “it’s better than being locked out of our bathroom all weekend.”
Joanna laughed. “You came in the nick of time, Quinn. Britt was—ahem—exploring the great outdoors about the time you—”
“Hush!” Britt gave Jo a sisterly shove. “You don’t need to tell every little thing you know.”
Phee shot a sideways glance at Quinn, who looked befuddled by the whole conversation. For the first time, she noticed he was wearing dress pants and a button-down shirt. A tweed suit jacket was lopped over a bench at the other end of the short hall.
“Don’t pay any attention to them. Thank you for the rescue.” She studied the door, now leaning against the wall outside the bathroom. “You couldn’t get it unlocked either, huh?”
“I think a little WD-40 will take care of it, but I didn’t happen to bring any with me. I might have to take the whole doorknob assembly out to get at it.”
“I think there’s a can in a box somewhere around here. In the kitchen maybe? But Quinn, you don’t have to do that.”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. It won’t take long.”
“So, Quinn …” Britt stifled a giggle. “Did you hear Phee yelling all the way from Langhorne? Or were you just passing by?”
He glanced at Phee as if she might fill in some missing blanks for him. When she didn’t, he shrugged again. “Actually, I was on my way to church, but I wanted to drop off the stuff you left in my car last night.”
“I left something?”
“Well, Melvin did, actually.” He motioned toward the front door. “I left it out on the porch. The bag of cat food and whatever was in that brown paper bag.”
“Oh, his brushes and vitamins. I forgot all about those. But you didn’t need to make an extra trip.”
“No big deal. It was right on the way.”
That was a bit of an exaggeration, but she wasn’t going to belabor the point. Not when she was standing safely on the outside of the bathroom door.
She glanced at the clock Jo and Britt had hung in the dining room last night. “If that time is right, you’re going to be late for church, Quinn.”
“And we flat-out missed church,” Joanna said. “But I’m thinking God will understand this once.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last week.” Britt grinned.
A corner of Quinn’s mouth quirked. “Surely God will count this good deed as my ‘church’ for the week.”
Phee laughed. “If by good deed, you mean replacing our bathroom door—the door someone ripped clean off its hinges, I might add—then yes, I think the Lord will understand.”
Quinn winked. “Yes, but what excuse are you three going to give Him?”
Chapter 21
There. All done.” Quinn tucked the hammer and screwdriver in his back pocket and stepped out of the way so the sisters could admire his handiwork. It had taken the better part of an hour to fix the lock and replace the door, but everything seemed to be working correctly now. He inhaled deeply, breathing in air that smelled of shampoo and baby powder and perfume, and a host of other intoxicating womanly scents.
Phylicia reached for the handle and tried the door. “Looks good.”
Quinn looked from Phylicia to each of her sisters, then back to her again, studying each of their features, trying not to appear too obvious. But with his conversation with Turner last night at the forefront of his thoughts, he couldn’t help but look at the sisters in a different light.
All three sisters had the same crystal blue eyes and honey-brown hair, like their mother’s, but Joanna and Britt did look the most like each other. Phylicia’s mouth was fuller and her forehead higher than her sisters’. Of course, Quinn had always thought they all looked like their mother, which actually might lend even more credence to Turner’s suspicions.
“The real test”— Joanna’s teasing voice drew him out of his musings—“is if you can get out again after you lock yourself in.”
Britt gave her oldest sister a nudge. “Go on, Phee. Why don’t you test it?”
“How dumb do you think I am?” Phylicia nudged her back.
“What?” Quinn affected a pout. “You don’t trust my handyman skills?”
“I’ll test it if you promise to let me out”—Phylicia threw him a sideways glance—“just in case you didn’t quite get it fixed.”
While he tried to think of a comeback that would earn him a smile, she stepped into the bathroom and turned the lock. A second later, the door handle rattled, and she hollered. “Hey! Somebody let me out.”
Deflated, he reached for the doorknob. But before he could turn it, the door flew open and she emerged wearing an ornery grin. “Just kidding.”
Not quite the smile he’d been aiming for, but he’d take it.
Meanwhile, her sisters cackled like farmyard hens.
“Very funny.” He shot her a stern look, then turned it on Joanna and Britt. “You’re all just a barrel of laughs. But seriously, if I were you, I’d give that lock another shot of this stuff”—he held up the blue and yellow spray can he’d used to loosen the stuck lock—“maybe every month or so until you’re sure it’s not going to stick anymore.” He’d shown Phylicia earlier how to use the straw taped to the can to target the lubricant into the key mechanism.
“Thanks again for coming to the rescue, Quinn.”
He gave a little salute. “Well … let me bring in Melvin’s stuff from the porch, and I’ll get out of your hair. Where is the infamous cat, by the way? How’d he do last night?”
“I never heard him until he started meowing at my door first thing this morning. But I haven’t seen him since before my ill-fated shower.”
“I think he’s sleeping on my bed.” Britt went to the door down the hall from the bathroom and poked her head inside. “Yep,” she whispered. “He’s sawing logs on my bed. You’d never know he hadn’t lived here all his life.”
“Well, don’t let him get too comfortable. He has work to do in the other two cabins, remember.”
“Not yet.” Britt moved to stand in front of the doorway to her room, as if she were a Buckingham Palace guard. Or a bouncer.
Laughing, Quinn glanced around the room for a clock. Ten thirty. He took a deep breath, thinking for only a split-second before he took the risk. “We could still make the eleven o’clock service at my church. Anybody want to come with me?”
“No way.” Britt scrubbed at her face, then added quickly, “Thanks for the invite and everything, but I haven’t even showered yet. There’s no way I could get ready in time.”
“Sorry, me neither.” Joanna smirked. “Especially if I should happen to get stuck in the bathroom.”
His odds of a yes were dwindling quickly, but he turned to Phylicia anyway. “How about you? Since you’ve already washed your hair and everything.” He tried for a cool smirk but it merely felt nerdy.
He was so busy feeling stupid that he almost missed her matter-of-fact reply.
“Sure, why not? Just give me a minute to get dressed.”
Phee and Quinn were halfway to his church when it struck her that this was the second time in two days that she’d agreed to go somewhere with him by herself. Either she was getting comfortable with the idea of being friends with one of her dad’s friends or something else was going on in her pea-brain … something she didn’t dare explore right now. She’d always prided herself on her analytical nature, on knowing her own motives and intentions well. She couldn’t—or didn’t want to—explain this one.
“What’s so funny over there?”
She turned to see Quinn smiling at her, a question in his eyes. His hands gripped the steering wheel at exactly ten and two, his shirt cuffs peeking out from the sleeves of his suit coat. Usually a suit made guys look older and more mature, but somehow Quinn’s
tweed made him look younger. More carefree.
She gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry. Just … you had to be there, I guess.”
“And apparently I wasn’t? There?”
She waved him off. “It’s nothing. It’s just kind of been a crazy morning. I’d given up on making it to church after about fifteen minutes stuck in that bathroom, and now here I am going to a whole different church.”
“I almost waited until after church to stop by, but I thought Melvin might not appreciate having to wait that long for his breakfast.”
“Oh, the bag I left in your car was just for refills. I brought in his bucket of food last night. But I’m sure glad you changed your mind and stopped before church.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet. Otherwise, you might still be stuck.”
“Excuse me, but I’d like to think my sisters and I would have come up with some brilliant means of escape by now.”
“You mean like taking the door hinges off?”
“Yeah, yeah … I’ll give you that. That was pretty brilliant.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear: Quinn Mitchell is brilliant.” He gave her a sidewise glance. “And handsome? Care to add that?”
She rolled her eyes. He did look handsome, but the repartee was getting a little too snappy for her comfort, so she sat hugging the passenger-side door in silence the rest of the way in to Cape.
When they pulled into the church parking lot, Phee realized she’d been here before. “One of my high school friends got married in this church. Mandy Franklin.”
“Sure, I know the Franklins. So you were at the wedding?”
“I was a bridesmaid.” She regretted telling him that as soon as the words were out. She would have bet one of the cottages what was going through his mind right now: Always a bridesmaid, never a—
“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride, huh?”
“Are you kidding me?” She stared at him. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Read my mind.”
“Seriously? So you were thinking that too? Always a bridesmaid, never a bride?”
“No, I was thinking that you were probably thinking that … about me. Sorry, but I’ve heard that infernal little trope too many times recently—usually from busybodies who come into the flower shop—” She decided against finishing her sentence with trying to hook me up with their loser sons. At his age, Quinn had probably heard whatever the male equivalent of that trope was often enough.
But the way he’d said it didn’t seem to carry an ounce of meanness. In fact, she’d never seen anything unkind in him. Maybe that was why she liked Quinn so much. That, and the fact that her parents had always thought the world of him. “One of the good guys,” Mom had declared once, when Dad was talking about an issue at work that Quinn was dealing with.
“Actually …” His grin was contagious. “I was wondering why a great girl … a great woman like you has never been married.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond. Or what he even meant by that.
He dropped his head briefly, then looked up. “I apologize. That was probably worse than the bridesmaid deal … not to mention a really sexist thing to say.”
She held up a hand. “Hey, that’s not me. Not that I don’t think women should be respected and all, but I’m not one to get riled up over stupid things that weren’t even intended to be offensive.”
“I appreciate that. I think. Sorry if it was stupid.”
“No.” Laughing, she shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. And to answer your question, I’ve just never met the right guy. This might sound strange in light of a recent conversation you and I had, but . . . before Mom got sick, I always thought my parents had the best marriage of anyone I knew. I never wanted to settle for anything less than what they had. But … I guess … things weren’t quite as rosy as I always imagined.” She folded her hands in her lap and dropped her head.
“Why do you say that? Just because your dad met someone so soon after your mom passed away, doesn’t mean that they—”
“He met her before Mom died, Quinn.”
“But … you don’t really think there was anything going on between them before, do you? That doesn’t sound like your dad. Not the man I know anyway. Your parents had a great marriage. And I’ve always thought that people who marry again after losing a spouse are proving that they saw marriage as a real blessing.”
“Maybe. But he’s changed, Quinn. Dad is different since Mom died.” They’d had this conversation before and she didn’t want to rehash it. She reached for her door handle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start that whole thing again. And I’ll feel really bad if I make you miss church twice in one day.”
His smile held sympathy, but he reached for his door as well. “Okay. To be continued after church.”
The feather-light touch of his hand at the small of her back, as they entered the church and she preceded him into the sanctuary, was comforting—and a little unsettling at the same time.
Chapter 22
Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen.” The church service ended with Pastor Franklin’s usual blessing from the book of Jude, followed by an invitation for the congregation to meet for a brief time of fellowship in the adjacent hospitality room.
Quinn gave Phylicia a sidewise glance, torn between wanting to show her off at the gathering and not wanting to be forced to make awkward introductions when he had no clue how she saw him. Dad’s coworker? Friend? Potential more-than-a-friend? Besides, selfishly, he wanted her to himself the rest of the afternoon.
They slipped into the aisle, shuffling among the crowd to the back of the sanctuary. “Shall we go grab something to eat?” he whispered behind her.
She looked over her shoulder at him, crinkling her nose. “I should probably get back and make sure my sisters aren’t stuck in the bathroom.”
He laughed. “I’m pretty sure that WD-40 did the trick.”
“Maybe we could stop and get a couple of pizzas … take it out to our place to eat? The girls wanted to try to finish getting all our rooms put together this afternoon, and if I want help with my room, I’d better be there to help with theirs.”
“Sure. And I can help if you need to move anything heavy. Or whatever. As long as it doesn’t involve decorating anything.”
She laughed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind. I hope you’re keeping track of your hours.”
He waved her off.
“No, I’m serious, Quinn. We had an agreement that we’d hire you guys … and we have a budget for it. Not a very big one, but still …”
“That’s fine. Once you’re ready to start on the other cottages, I’ll start racking up a bill for you. But this one I’m just doing as a friend.”
She looked up at him. “Are you sure, Quinn?”
He was growing to love the sound of his own name when it came from her lips. “I’m positive. I’ve actually enjoyed it. You three can be pretty entertaining.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “Oh, we’ve been on our best behavior. You haven’t seen entertaining yet. Just wait till we cut loose a little.”
He laughed, wondering if she realized that she’d actually—just in that moment—cut loose a little. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen since she was younger and still living at home with her parents. And he was more elated about catching a glimpse of that Phylicia than he would ever admit to her.
They finally made their way through the crush of people, and when they emerged through the doorway, they both gave a little gasp. It was pouring rain outside the tall windows in the foyer.
“Wow. I didn’t even know that was in the forecast.” Phylicia opened her purse and rummaged through it. “I used to have an umbrella in here, but I must have left it somewhere.”
&nb
sp; “I have one in the car.” He cringed. “A lot of good that’ll do us, huh? Wait here. I’ll go get the car and pick you up under the overhang.” He pointed to a covered side entry at the end of the corridor.
“I don’t mind going out in it. We’ll run.”
“You sure? It’s a downpour.”
She nodded and started for the main entrance they’d come in.
He followed her through the doors, but once outside, she ducked her head and sprinted to the parking lot. Despite his longer legs, he had to jog to catch up. He’d forgotten the girl ran track in school.
He fumbled for his keys and had the car unlocked before she reached the passenger door. They climbed in and slammed their doors shut. Turning to look at each other, they cracked up.
Phylicia combed her fingers through her dripping hair. “Do I look as much like a drowned rat as you do?”
He craned to catch his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Believe me, it’s a much better look on you.”
She swabbed at her face with a tissue. “Good day to stay huddled by the fireplace. But this won’t be good for Dad’s open house.”
Quinn frowned. “Probably not. Maybe it will let up before then.”
“I hope they put down plastic for people to walk on.”
“I would think they would, but I can give them a call and request it. I told your dad I’d stop by the open house and see how things were going.”
“Oh …You talked to Dad? Recently?”
He froze. He hadn’t really meant to let that slip. It exposed too many doors that could not be opened. Not by him anyway. “Yes. He called last night, actually. To ask if I’d stop by the house. In Langhorne. So you girls wouldn’t have to. Sorry, I should have let you know I’d talked to him.”
“Did Dad … sound okay to you?”
Quinn hesitated, pre-examining his answer for the potential to let any cats out of the bag. He hated the invisible wall that had gone up between them with this newfound knowledge. “He sounded good. Actually seemed more like himself than he has in a while.”
Her shoulders relaxed visibly. “I’m so glad. I thought the same thing last time we talked. Monday, I guess it was. I just wish he would come home. Even for a visit. Did he say anything to you about when he might be back?”
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