The knock on Quinn’s door startled her. Moping, it seemed, could be quite engrossing. She got up, half hoping it was the Chinese food she wished she’d ordered an hour ago. When she opened the door and found Amanda, looking hesitant and exhausted, on the other side, her heart nearly stopped. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Breathe. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was worried that if I texted, you might not answer.” Amanda sighed. “Or tell me not to come.”
If she only knew. “I would have answered.”
“Oh. Well. I’m sorry for showing up unannounced then.”
She shook her head. “Don’t ever apologize for showing up.”
A faint glimmer of hope came into Amanda’s eyes. “Does that mean I can come in?”
She opened the door wide. “Always.”
She came in and Quinn closed the door behind her. She hesitated for a moment, then set down her purse. “I hope you know I ended it a while ago. Before you and I ever slept together. Even before our first date.”
Quinn nodded, but she couldn’t quite muster a reassuring smile. “I know.”
“I don’t want to be with her. I’m not even remotely tempted.”
“I believe you.”
Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “Your words say that, but your eyes don’t.”
How could she explain without laying each and every one of her insecurities at Amanda’s feet? “I do believe you. Everything I overheard reinforces that.”
“But something’s wrong. I can tell. Is it that I slept with her in the first place? Does that seem like a bigger deal now?”
“No.” She wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it wasn’t like she would hold something against Amanda that happened before they got together. No, this was about the role Mel played—would always play—in Amanda’s life. She didn’t know if she could be in a relationship where she was always overshadowed. “I…”
“Yes?”
“We should sit down. Can I get you a glass of wine? Something stronger than wine?”
That broke the tension slightly and Amanda chuckled. “Wine would be great.”
Quinn escaped to the kitchen. She poured two glasses, but before going back to the living room, she braced both hands on the counter. Just breathe.
She found Amanda on the sofa, feet tucked under her. She accepted the glass of wine Quinn offered, but set it on the coffee table. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders. Quinn imagined it was her standard serious talk posture, honed through years of parenting.
“So,” she said.
Quinn joined her and took a deep breath. “So.”
“I think I need to know what you’re feeling. Are you mad? Disappointed? Wanting more details about what happened?”
She wasn’t expecting Amanda to start with her. She scrambled to organize her thoughts into words. “Unsure, I guess.”
“Unsure about my feelings for Mel? Or for you?”
“Neither.” Not entirely true. She desperately wanted to know how Amanda felt about her. But something about this moment muddied the waters. She didn’t want any declarations tainted by Amanda’s attempt to reassure.
“Oh.” Amanda’s shoulders dropped. “Unsure about what, then?”
She should have thought more about how to articulate this instead of spinning one wretched scenario after another. “How all the pieces fit, maybe. Whether your life has room in it for me, for us.”
That only seemed to confuse Amanda more. “Do you feel like we don’t spend enough time together?”
Great. She’d managed to make herself sound needy and clingy. “No, no. It’s not that at all. Please don’t think I’m one of those women who wants no life outside of a relationship.”
It came out more vehemently than she intended, but Amanda smiled. “I’ve never gotten that impression from you.”
“It’s more—” Ugh. Why was this so hard? “When I was married, it was pretty clear I was the boring one.”
“What?” Amanda looked genuinely confused, which proved a small consolation.
“Lesedi was a star—in her work, in our social circles. Everyone is drawn to her. I never minded being in her shadow. To be honest, I’m probably more comfortable out of the spotlight anyway.”
Amanda nodded, but looked no less confused. “I know what you mean. Truly. But I’m struggling to follow what this has to do with us.”
“I was happy to be in the background until my wife fell for someone with as much flash as she had.”
“Oh.” The word dragged out as realization dawned.
“I get that your kids come first. I’d never want it to be otherwise, but they mean you’re always going to have this connection to Mel. And if she’s still in love with you…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.
Amanda took a deep breath. “She’s not. She just thinks she is.”
Quinn let out a chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “I think you’re underestimating her.”
“She wants what she can’t have. It’s a competitive thing.” Amanda rolled her eyes as she spoke and shook her head.
“Even if that’s the case—”
“Even if that’s the case, I’m not in love with her. I don’t want to be with her. And that isn’t going to change.”
Quinn believed her. She believed her the first time she said it. But she was failing epically at explaining the difference between that and her real fears. “I’m sorry I seem to be sending us in circles. I’m truly not worried you’re going to get back together with her. It’s whether I’m actually what you want. What if I’m appealing right now because I’m different? What if I’m just a rebound, some experiment?”
Amanda smiled then. Her brow arched. “Rebound? I’ve been divorced, like, five times longer than you have.”
“But you considered getting back together with her. It says something about that kind of person still having a certain appeal.”
“My brief…” she hesitated, “affair with Mel reminded me of why we broke up in the first place.”
“Wasn’t it because she fell in love with someone else?”
Amanda tipped her head back and forth. “On the surface, yes. But that was only the catalyst. Mel takes up all the oxygen in the room. Mel is…” another pause, “always about Mel.”
She’d gotten that vibe but chalked it up to her own predisposition to dislike the woman. Having Amanda say it, and use those words, went a long way. “I appreciate you saying that.”
“I’m not just saying it for your benefit.” Amanda looked down at her hands, then at Quinn. “I like that you’re subtle.”
Quinn offered her a rueful smile. “That’s a kinder word than boring.”
“And completely different. You’re not boring. You’re low-key but still adventurous. You have such empathy and such care for the feelings of others. You’re honest and open-minded and have such a deep sense of integrity.”
She squirmed. This was exactly how she didn’t want this conversation to go. “You don’t have to stroke my ego.”
“What if I’m not trying to stroke your ego? What if I mean it?”
“Maybe you do. But I’m not sure I’m in a place to hear it, if that makes any sense.”
Amanda frowned. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t.”
“I think you feel bad about how things went earlier and you want to make me feel better.”
“Both true.”
“Which I appreciate, but I can’t, or I guess I don’t want, you telling me how you feel about me as part of trying to make me feel better.”
“Oh.” She let the word hang.
“That might not be fair of me, but I’m trying be honest and not just say the things that will make us feel better in the moment.”
Amanda took a deep breath and Quinn braced herself. “I respect that. It makes sense. It makes me sad, but it makes sense.”
It made her sad, too. “Thank you.”
“So, where does that leave us?”
She so wasn’t the expert. “Well, you’re going to be crazy busy the next couple of weeks, between getting Cal moved in and the bakery back up and running. What if we took a breather? Let the dust settle.”
“Is that your gentle way of breaking up with me?”
She scrubbed her hands over her face. “No. If I didn’t think there was any hope, I’d say so.”
“But there’s a chance you are going to in the end.”
The look of anguish on Amanda’s face slayed her. It took every ounce of restraint she had not to gather Amanda in her arms and ask if they could just put the whole mess behind them. “I mean, I think there’s a chance either of us could end up there. I don’t think you want to get back together with Mel, but I don’t think it’s as resolved as you want it to be. And Daniella doesn’t, either.”
“You’re right.” Amanda blew out a breath and her whole demeanor took on a look of defeat. “But promise me we are going to talk.”
The request gave her a dose of reassurance. “We will.”
Amanda untucked her feet and set them on the ground. “Okay. I won’t outstay my welcome now.”
It wouldn’t be fair to take Amanda’s hand, tell her how badly she didn’t want her to go. But, God, did she want to. “It’s not like that. I hope you know it’s not like that at all.”
Amanda nodded but didn’t speak. She stood. Quinn followed her to the door. She picked up her purse. Quinn opened the door. Amanda stepped outside, but turned. “I’ll be thinking about you.” She nodded, not sure of what else to do.
Amanda left and Quinn closed the door behind her. She slumped against it and let her head tip back. She’d think about little else.
* * *
Mel pulled into the driveway just after eight and Amanda braced herself. They’d discussed the logistics of moving Cal into his dorm over text but hadn’t seen each other since the party. The cloud of the day and how it ended still loomed.
Cal finished shoveling eggs into his mouth and polished off his orange juice. “Two minutes.”
She laughed as he bolted from the table and headed upstairs. It was a good thing he was such a serious student or she’d worry about him ever getting to class on time. “Take your time.”
She took a steadying breath and headed to the front door. She opened it just as Mel lifted a hand to knock. She offered Amanda a sheepish smile. “Hi.”
The body language went a long way in helping her relax. “Hey.”
“Big day.”
“It is.” She was prepared for it, but it didn’t make it any less significant. “How did yesterday go?”
She’d initially hesitated to take a wedding cake order the day Daniella was due to move back into her dorm, but given everything, she wound up relieved to have the conflict. And since Daniella was allowed a car on campus this year, there really wasn’t a need. It did make her feel like a coward and a terrible parent, but it was the truth of the matter. At least she could point to wanting to avoid Mel as much as Daniella.
“Perfectly uneventful. Nadia says hi.”
That made her feel better, as did the mention of Daniella’s roommate. And Daniella had responded to her text last night. She knew it was residual awkwardness and not an irreparable rift, but the evidence helped. “Oh, that’s nice.”
“Cal?”
“Brushing his teeth, I think. Otherwise, ready.”
Mel folded her arms and leaned forward. “Are you as freaked out by all this as I am?”
She chuckled. “A state of general disbelief is all.”
“You always were the levelheaded one.”
“For better or for worse.” She blew out a breath. “Coffee?”
“I’d love some.”
Mel followed her to the kitchen. She poured a fresh cup and refilled her own. Cal came bounding down the stairs looking at once completely grown up and like her little boy about to take on the first day of school. “Hey, M.”
“Ready to load up?” Mel asked.
He nodded affably. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
It took less than an hour to load both vehicles and about the same to drive to Cornell. They unloaded his things with the help of a slew of move-in volunteers, then left him to his first day of orientation. She and Mel went through family orientation sessions, just as they had at Rochester the year before. The emotional magnitude of dropping her baby off at college was mitigated by having a better sense of how it all worked.
Mel opted to head to her office for a bit when things wrapped up, making their good-bye quick and tidy. For some—or perhaps many—reasons, the drive home felt about twice as long as the drive there. She pulled into the driveway dirty, sweaty, and exhausted. And alone. She hadn’t expected the alone part to bother her. She liked the quiet and there were already plenty of nights she had the house to herself. Something about this, though, felt permanent.
Inside, she climbed the stairs and headed straight for the shower. Being clean, and in a pair of loose fitting cotton pants and a tank top, made her feel better. As did pouring a glass of wine and flopping on the sofa. Even if it was barely six in the evening.
She picked up her phone. A text from Cal about the horrors of ice breakers and one from Mel about being glad they could have the day together, all things considered. She sent a cackling GIF to Cal, but pondered her response to Mel for a long minute.
I’d like to go back to how things were before. She hit send before realizing the multiple possible interpretations of “before.” Before we slept together.
The reply bubble appeared, then vanished. Minutes ticked by and she felt like an idiot waiting for a response. Instead, she switched over to her thread with Quinn. Other than a message that morning wishing her luck and Cal the best, there was nothing. No request to get together. But also no assertion she didn’t want to get together.
She needed to give it some time. Erin had said as much. Jack, too. Julia was more for hashing it out, but not communicating—and the power of the grand gesture—were still fresh in her mind. She shook her head. Quinn had basically asked for space, so that’s what she was going to give her.
I want to agree, but I can’t bring myself to regret what happened between us.
She stared at Mel’s words. It was easier for her to say. Her life was already imploding when they hooked up.
Not the showy scene that embarrassed us both. The reconnecting. Appreciating who we are now in new ways.
Tears pricked her eyes, not because Mel was wrong, but because she was right. Hooking up with Mel woke her out of a hibernation she hadn’t even realized she was in. In some ways, it put her in the mindset to open her heart to Quinn. Even with the havoc the whole thing had wreaked, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Yeah.
Is there anything I can do to make it right?
She had this mental picture of Mel showing up at Quinn’s office and pleading her case. Try to get Daniella back to a good place. Send. Sigh. I think the rest is mine to deal with.
I have a good feeling it’s going to work out. You’re a catch and Quinn isn’t an idiot.
The assertion—the closest thing to complimenting Quinn Mel had managed—made her chuckle. I just need to convince her that taking a chance on me doesn’t make her one.
Mel replied with the laughing emoji, then the crying one, and finally a heart. She reiterated her opinion and wished Amanda a good night. Amanda thanked her and set her phone aside. She should probably eat dinner, but food was the last thing she wanted.
She padded into the kitchen to refill her wine glass and grabbed a sleeve of crackers. A hangover after her first night as an empty nester would be rather pathetic. She returned to the sofa, picked up her phone, and once again contemplated texting Quinn.
She messaged Erin instead, her only other single and potentially home by herself friend. But the text went unanswered. Given her luck, and Erin’s, Erin was on some hot date who would turn out to be the love of her life.
God, that smacked of bitterness. Enough. She got up and physically shook herself. Whatever happened with Quinn, she had a full and happy and satisfying life.
Only, for some reason, telling herself that had tears threatening.
The thing was, she did have all that. It was more than a lot of people had and she was grateful. But she missed Quinn. It had only been a few days, but she missed her company, her body. And, truthfully, it was more than that. She missed the sense of optimism Quinn seemed to bring into every room she entered, her unflappable sense of adventure. And perhaps most of all, she missed who she was with Quinn—a braver and more carefree version of herself.
What was worse, being bitter or pathetic? Since it felt like she was pushing the limits of both, probably better not to ask. She carried her empty glass to the kitchen and headed upstairs. Maybe she could read herself to sleep.
In bed, she managed a chapter before giving in. She picked up her phone. You don’t need to respond, but I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. She added and deleted I miss you at least five times before sending the message without. No pressure. That was the point.
She went back to her book. By midnight, she turned the last page and her eyes finally felt heavy. She turned off the lamp, pulled the blankets up, and did her best not to think about the fact that Quinn hadn’t texted her back.