Quinn would have been content to spend the entirety of their time in bed, but Amanda insisted on a real hike. She’d been promised a waterfall, after all. They struck out after breakfast and made it back in time for lunch and another shower together.
Amanda pulled on her clothes slowly. “I don’t think I want to go back to reality.”
“I always feel that way after a weekend in the woods. I’m glad you do, too.” She didn’t add that she could already imagine a lifetime of weekends spent like this. Or that Lesedi had never shown even a hair of interest in joining her.
“Are you ever tempted to play hooky and stay an extra day?”
Given Amanda’s reluctance to spend a weekend off-grid in the first place, the question made her smile. “I have a couple of times, but only when I didn’t have anything essential waiting for me.”
Amanda laughed. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that feeling.”
“Maybe when Cal and Daniella are both out on their own.”
She’d meant it in a lighthearted way, but Amanda seemed to turn the idea over in her mind. “Maybe so.”
After loading the car, Amanda stood surveying the cabin while Quinn locked up. She remained that way when Quinn descended the stairs and joined her. “Ready?”
She let out a wistful sigh. “Yeah.”
They climbed into the car and Quinn started the engine. “Thank you for running away with me.”
Amanda buckled her seat belt. “Thank you for sharing such a special place. I hope we can come back.”
“I never need much encouragement, so you just say the word.”
When they pulled onto Route 28 heading south, Quinn turned on North Country Public Radio. The Sunday afternoon lineup—more quirky programming than news—always felt like a gentle way to ease back into reality. They laughed over a Car Talk repeat and ruminated on the weekly puzzle.
A few miles from Old Forge, Amanda’s phone winked to life with a flurry of chirps, pings, and sound bites. Quinn chuckled. “I guess we’re back in range.”
Amanda didn’t respond. She was already frowning at her screen. Quinn tried not to let it bother her. Amanda had owned the fact that unplugging was a rarity for her. Of course she’d be anxious to check in.
Amanda gasped, then swore.
“What? What’s wrong?” Quinn stole peeks at her while doing her best to keep her attention on the road.
“Cal’s in the hospital.”
“What?” Panic gripped her. Realization that it had to be a fraction of what Amanda was feeling quickly followed.
“He had his appendix removed.”
“Like, today?” Disbelief warred with the knowledge that an appendicitis could come on and reach emergency status in a matter of hours. That exact thing had happened to her when she was fifteen.
Amanda didn’t answer. She’d finished reading messages and had her phone to her ear. “Where are you? How is he?”
She couldn’t hear enough to know if it was Daniella on the other end of the line or Mel. Instinctively, she reached over and put a hand on Amanda’s knee. Amanda looked her way briefly, but there was misery in her eyes.
“I’ll come right there. It’ll be three hours at least, but I’m coming.” Amanda led out a shaky breath. “I know. Okay. Call me if anything changes.”
She ended the call and Quinn gave her a second to settle her nerves before asking, “Is he all right?”
Another shaky breath. “Mel says so, but I won’t believe it until I can set eyes on him myself.”
Probably not the moment to confess how much she loved Amanda’s mama bear instincts. “So, he had the surgery already? He’s in recovery?”
“In a regular room, apparently. He felt lousy yesterday. Mel said he called her at five this morning because he hadn’t stopped puking and had a sharp pain in his side.”
Quinn tried to offer a reassuring smile. “Good thing he knew the symptoms.”
Amanda shook her head. “I should have been there.”
“How could you have known?”
“I shouldn’t have been inaccessible.” Amanda poked at her screen, then held up the phone. “He texted me last night and I didn’t get it.”
“And he called his other mother, who seems to have done the right thing.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t understand. I’m the one who is always there. I’m the one who takes care of everything.”
Quinn swallowed the retort on the tip of her tongue. “This is no exception. You’ll be at the hospital in a matter of hours and I have no doubt you’ll take impeccable care of him until he’s back to one hundred percent.”
“I need to check on Daniella.”
Quinn focused her attention on the road while Amanda called her daughter. The conversation started tense, but Amanda laughed before they finished. That was a good sign. “What do you need from me? What can I do?”
Amanda blinked at her a few times, as though surprised by the question. “Just bring me to Cayuga Medical. I told them I’d be there as quickly as I could.”
A small knot of helplessness rooted in Quinn’s stomach. “Do you still have your appendix? I had mine out when I was fifteen.”
“I still have mine.”
Amanda seemed only half focused on the conversation, but she had to believe even minor distraction was an improvement over worrying and beating herself up for the next three hours. “I went from fine to hospital the same day, but I was home the next and back to normal in less than a week.”
“I know that’s how it works, but it doesn’t make me feel the tiniest bit better.”
“Would you like me to list all the ways you’re an outstanding mother? I’d be happy to.”
She’d hoped the comment would at least get her a smile, but Amanda’s eyes welled with tears. “My son needed me and I was off playing with my girlfriend like some irresponsible teenager.”
The words stung. Even as she rationalized Amanda was upset, that she was in an understandably emotional state, they lodged in her chest. Because, emotional state or not, maybe they were true.
More deflated than she cared to admit, Quinn drove on in silence. Amanda tapped at her phone. She could have been texting her friends or looking up early appendicitis symptoms to torture herself with. Either way, she didn’t bother trying to make conversation.
She dropped Amanda at the hospital with a promise to bring Amanda’s things over whenever she made it home. She hesitated, then asked for an update whenever Amanda had a moment. Amanda mumbled an “of course,” but climbed out of the car without a kiss or even making eye contact.
Quinn headed home, telling herself a hundred times Amanda’s actions were completely reasonable given the situation. But when she pulled into the lot of her building, she sat for a long moment. She might be good at telling herself all the right things. Believing them was another matter entirely.
* * *
Thanks to her back-and-forth with Mel and Daniella, Amanda didn’t have to bother with tracking down where Cal was. She took the elevator to his floor and barely resisted the urge to run down the hall to his room. At the door, she made herself pause for a moment. The last thing her son needed was seeing her all freaked out.
She took a deep breath, then blew it out. She was fine. Cal was fine. Everyone was fine.
She entered the room to the sound of Mel laughing. No, not laughing. It was a guffaw that bordered on a snort. When she rounded the wall, she found her ex-wife doubled over with laughter and both of her kids giggling like, well, kids. It was jarring and sent her already frazzled nerves into orbit.
“What’s so funny?” She didn’t mean to snap, but it sounded like that. She cleared her throat. Hopefully it passed for surprise.
All three of them froze and looked her way. Like when the kids were little and she’d caught them in the middle of something they knew they weren’t supposed to be doing. The funny thing was, Mel had usually been part of the antics then, too.
“Mom.” Cal looked both happy to see her and relieved. “You’re here.”
The familiar twinge of being the killjoy faded and she went to him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head, just like when he was little. “How are you, baby?”
He leaned into her for a moment, then pulled away. “I’m fantastic now. This morning, I thought I was going to die.”
She felt the blood drain from her face and a fresh wave of guilt wash over her. “I’m so, so, so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“Not literally die. It was fine. I called these two and they took care of me.”
Amanda shook her head. “I should have been here.”
He gave her a look of exasperation. “Mom, chill. I’m fine. It’s not like I’m some five-year-old you left to fend for himself.”
“Still.” She turned to Daniella, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
When she let go, Daniella smirked. She angled her head toward Cal. “It’s all good. He lived.”
It was hard to tell if Daniella really was fine or hiding the fact she’d been scared behind sarcasm. Now wasn’t the time to poke at her, but she’d make sure they had a heart-to-heart later. In the meantime, she turned her attention to Mel. “Thank you for swooping in and taking care of everything.”
Mel offered her a soft smile. “I’m still part of the team, you know.”
She didn’t know what she expected Mel to say, but it wasn’t that. No, she expected a hint of snark or, at the very least, condescension. How was it that everyone in her family seemed to be throwing her off her game? Maybe the problem was she was already off her game. Unsure what to do with that, she fell back on maternal guilt. “I’m sorry you had to handle this by yourself.”
Mel brought a hand to her cheek. “You’re here now.”
If the gesture gave her a tingle of discomfort, she chose to ignore it. Everyone’s emotions were high. Emergency surgery could do that to people. “I am. Where do things stand? What do I need to do?”
Mel let out a chuckle. “I know you struggle with this, but I don’t think there’s anything to do.”
She frowned, although it was hard to know if it was the comment or that there really might be nothing for her to do. “Any word on when he’ll be released?”
“Tomorrow. They want to keep him overnight to make sure there’s no fever or other signs of infection.” And then, as if sensing the question in Amanda’s mind, she added, “It’s standard practice. Nothing to be concerned about.”
She blew out a breath, relieved. But still worried. And suddenly exhausted. “Okay. Good.”
“Have you not even been home yet?”
She looked down at her khaki shorts and hiking boots. “I wanted to come straight here.”
Mel nodded. “Of course. I’m fine staying if you want to go shower and unpack and whatever.”
“Oh, no. I’m not going anywhere.” She looked over to the bed. Daniella had perched herself on the edge and she and Cal appeared to be heckling an episode of Judge Judy. “Have you both been here all day?”
Another nod.
“Why don’t you two take off and I’ll stay?”
“They’re going to kick you out at nine. We’ve already been warned.”
She imagined a harried nurse reading her rowdy family the riot act. “Well, I’ll stay until then.”
“How about we all stay and then you let me bring you home. I assume you don’t have a car.”
She didn’t. It hit her how she’d pretty much brushed Quinn off. She’d need to apologize. “I can get an Uber.”
Mel raised a brow. “Girlfriend not hovering nearby?”
There was a trace of snark or something similar in Mel’s voice, but Amanda didn’t have it in her to take her to task. Or attempt to explain. Not that she owed Mel an explanation anyway. “No.”
“How about I bring Daniella home and then swing back for you?”
If part of her knew it wasn’t the best idea, it was a part that didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. “That would be great.”
Mel grinned as though she’d been given the keys to the candy shop. “Perfect.”
She looked over at the bed again. “He’s really going to be okay, right?”
Mel slung an arm around her, much like she’d done with Cal, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “He’s going to be perfect.”
For just a second, she let herself sink into the comfort of Mel’s embrace. She’d known it to be true in an intellectual sense, but only in that moment did the rest of her believe it. “Right.”
Mel released her and turned to Daniella. “You ready to get back?”
Daniella looked Cal up and down and sighed. “I guess.”
The reluctance to leave told Amanda all she needed to know. Today had been rough on both her kids. She gave Daniella a hug. “Go get some rest. Are you driving back to Rochester tonight?”
She hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded. “I’ve got the morning crew of kids and I won’t want to get up early enough to get there. I mean, unless you need me.”
“You go. I’ll text you updates.”
Daniella told Cal to stop being so much trouble, then she and Mel left. Since Cal didn’t seem to be in significant discomfort, she took the spot on the bed Daniella had vacated. “How are you really?”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I freaked you out.”
She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Freaking out is my prerogative.”
“Where’s Quinn?”
The question caught her off guard. “I had her drop me off.”
“Oh.” Cal frowned. “Did she have somewhere to be?”
“Um, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“Oh. Okay.” He smiled, but his voice conveyed disappointment.
“I mean, she was genuinely worried about you. I think she probably didn’t want to horn in on family time.” Only in justifying it to Cal did reality sink in. She’d done nothing to make Quinn feel welcome or wanted.
Cal lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’ve started thinking of her as family.”
Leave it to her kid to make her feel two inches tall, but not about the thing she was already beating herself up over. “Really?”
He sighed. “Not like I think you’re about to get married or anything.”
“Oh, well, as long as it’s not that.” How did this become the conversation?
“I just mean she’s been around a lot and, I don’t know, it’s kind of nice.”
Amanda’s shoulders slumped. She’d been so busy thinking about her time with Quinn as a selfish thing, it hadn’t occurred to her it might be something her kids actually liked, valued. Her terseness with Quinn on the ride down came back to her. She had been selfish, but not in the ways she’d thought.
“Was that the wrong thing to say? I’m sorry.”
She stopped pinching the bridge of her nose and looked over at her son. His color was almost back to normal and, thanks to whatever meds they’d pumped into him, he didn’t seem to be in any pain. And yet, there he was, sitting in a hospital bed, apologizing to her. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I was so focused on getting to you, I didn’t think about anything else.”
He shrugged, clearly not inclined to analyze her decisions to death. “It’s cool. I’m sure I’ll see her soon.”
She had to laugh. He made it sound so easy. “I’ll let her know you asked about her.”
“Did you guys have a good time?”
Amanda took a deep breath. The truth was she couldn’t remember having a more relaxing weekend. Even without all the sex. Quinn had this way of getting her to slow down, unplug. She hadn’t realized how bad she’d gotten at doing that. “We did.”
“Good. You don’t have enough fun.”
The comment hit home, almost as much as Cal asking about Quinn in the first place. “I have fun.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “You know what I mean.”
She could argue with him, but he was right. She wasn’t uptight, exactly, but between parenting and owning a business, she had a hard time shutting off. “Okay, okay.”
“I think it’s good for you, that’s all.”
He didn’t say it, but she could tell he meant Quinn was good for her. That hit home, too. Perhaps all the neat little compartments she’d created in her life weren’t so neat after all.