“What do you mean?” Quinn rarely mentioned the rest of his family.
Liz patted her hand. “Long story—stories—silly family squabbles.”
Sarah laughed. “In other words, none of my business. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
The older woman seemed to appraise her. “No, doll. That’s not what I meant. Every family has its skeletons, and it didn’t occur to me that you’d be interested in ours.”
“Well, you know about mine, so it’s only fair. If you feel like sharing. I’m running early anyway.”
Liz stared up at the ceiling. “It’s complicated. But I guess what family isn’t? I think it all started to derail right after the accident.”
Sarah leaned back on her hands. “Accident?”
“Quinnie didn’t tell you?”
“No. He’s never mentioned it.”
“Interesting. Well, Mike, Ronan, and I were coming back from a tournament in Minnesota. Ronan was in an elite league, like Quinn, only Quinn was a few years behind.”
“Quinn wasn’t with you?”
“No, he was competing in a different tournament, and he was billeting with a family in Portland, so he went with them.” She shook her head. “Thank God he wasn’t with us. Anyway, it was late, we were all exhausted, and we were smack in the middle of a winter snowstorm. I told Mike we should get a motel, but he was anxious to get home. We went round and round, and I lost that battle.” A wistful smile played over her features. “So we drove. Mike and I were supposed to share the driving—Ronan didn’t have enough experience for the road conditions. Mike agreed to wake me for my shift, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was long past time we were supposed to switch, but Mike was still behind the wheel. I could tell he was tired, and the snow was coming down in heavy, hypnotic flakes.
“When I suggested we pull over and trade, he just shook his head. I think some of that macho bravado was at play. ‘I’m the man. I’ll drive.’ Ronan was asleep in the backseat, and I tried not to, but I dozed off again. And then it happened.”
Something—the memory—passed through Liz’s bright eyes, dulling them. She appeared as though she watched a movie playing only in her head. Before continuing, she drew in a long, shuddering breath. “I woke up to the car hitting a guardrail—Mike had fallen asleep and the car drifted. It felt as though we spun forever, smashing and bouncing and scraping against that guardrail. It was horrible. I was terrified. My husband and my boy were in that car, and I thought we were all going to die.”
Sarah sat in stunned silence, wanting to reach out and take Liz’s hands, but they were firmly twisted in her lap. Instead, she rested her hand on Liz’s ankle, trying to suffuse her with strength and caring.
“Obviously, we didn’t die,” Liz chuckled mirthlessly. “But in some ways, we did. Ronan’s leg was fractured in three places and had to be pinned together. I suffered injuries, including head trauma the doctors think might have triggered the Parkinson’s. Mike didn’t get a scratch on him, and I think that was a worse fate. He couldn’t forgive himself for hurting me and for ending Ronan’s dreams of making it in the NHL, so he shut down. When he was offered a one-year coaching job in Poland, he jumped at it. I think the guilt was eating him up inside, and he wanted to leave the memories behind for a while, so I went along with it.
“One year turned into two. When he wanted to stay through a third year, I felt as though he’d given up on us, and I told him he was a coward.” She paused, hauling in a breath. “I was angry, hurt, and I told him not to come back. We’ve been in this strange limbo ever since. Right before I came to live with Quinn, I asked Mike for a divorce.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Does Quinn know?”
Liz shook her head. “No. I haven’t told either boy. Until things are settled between Mike and me, there’s no point. They don’t need the extra heartache.
“My poor Quinn took the brunt of his father’s guilt and his brother’s rage. Especially when he got drafted into the NHL. He and his brother had pushed each other, but then they’d been friends. That was shattered after the accident. Whether Ronan would have made it or not is something we’ll never know. But instead of enjoying Quinn’s success, Ronan became more jealous and Mike more guilt-ridden. Quinn was surrounded by a broken family through no fault of his own, and he took flak he didn’t deserve, so he put up his own walls. We’re all like individual guard towers, built out of the same stone, close in proximity but wholly apart. I wish it were different.
“I’m proud of what Quinn’s achieved. He’s smart, he’s determined, and when he makes up his mind about something, he’s tenacious. He goes all in. The fame and fortune came, and having no one to give him a reality check, he threw himself into a new lifestyle the same way he does everything. Wholeheartedly.”
“He doesn’t do anything halfway,” Sarah said almost to herself.
Liz laughed. “No, he most certainly does not. As a mother, I’m not terribly proud of some of his behavior, but I’m hopeful. I think you’re a good influence.”
Sarah’s surprise at this statement came out in a squeak. “Me?” In that moment, all she could picture were the overflowing swear jars.
“Yes, you. Usually, he surrounds himself with women who … Well, let’s say they have their own agendas and they tell him what he thinks he wants to hear, and he buys into it. Maybe it helps him forget. I don’t know. But these women aren’t the type he can build anything with. They won’t sustain him through the long haul.
“I think being around you grounds him in a way they won’t and I can’t. It’s good for him to know there are strong, intelligent women he can’t
