Chapter Twenty-five
Amanda opened the door and sighed. Fewer than twenty-fourhours had passed since she last saw Quinn, but seeing her there sent a rippleof calm through her. The potency of that, the immediacy, hit her. “Hi.”
“How’s the patient?”
“Already annoyed he has to stay in bed for a few days.”
Quinn smiled. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“It is.” She stepped back so Quinn could come inside.
Quinn angled her head. “Is someone else here?”
“Mel’s on her way out. I would have made it so you didn’t have tooverlap, but I assumed she’d be gone by now.” She’d assumed Mel wouldn’t bothercoming to the house after the hospital, then she’d assumed Mel would help Calget settled and not linger. Her typical assumptions of Mel were backfiring alot these days.
Not her business. Not her business. Not her business. It wasbecoming a bit of a mantra.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed slightly. Subtle, but Amanda had learned itwas one of her few tells when it came to being irritated. “It’s totally fine.I’m sure Cal is happy to have both his moms doting on him.”
“He is.” She put her hand on Quinn’s arm. “This isn’t probablythe best time and I know Cal is anxious to see you, but I’m hoping we couldmaybe talk later.”
Quinn frowned. “Is everything okay?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m hoping so. I mostly want toapologize for being a jerk yesterday.”
The frown gave way to relief. “You weren’t a jerk.”
She lifted a hand. “I’m sure we could debate this. Just know thepurpose of the conversation is making nice, not anything bad.”
“I’m not sure I’m on board with the idea of needing to make nice,but I won’t argue.” She made a bowing gesture with her hand. “Per yourrequest.”
The comment made her realize how ridiculous she sounded. Shecould apologize for that later, too. “Deal.”
“Mom, is that Quinn? Stop hogging her.” Cal’s holler carried fromthe living room.
She angled her head. “Shall we?”
In the living room, Cal sat sideways on the sofa with his feet upand a mound of pillows around him. Mel, who’d been perched on the opposite arm,stood. She offered Quinn a friendly nod. “Quinn. Good to meet you.”
“You, too.”
She knew Mel well enough to recognize a certain amount ofcondescension in the friendly tone. Hopefully, Quinn didn’t pick up on it. Calcertainly didn’t. He just looked happy to see Quinn. “Can you believe I had anappendicitis while you were gone?” he asked.
“Pretty crazy timing. I’m sorry we weren’t reachable.” Quinnstill seemed distressed by the whole thing.
Cal shrugged, still laid-back about the whole thing. “It’s allgood.”
“Can I get you some coffee?” she asked Quinn.
“I’d love some,” Mel said before Quinn even had a chance toreply.
She was annoyed with Mel for inviting herself to stay, but didn’twant to say so in front of Cal. Or Quinn, for that matter. Mostly, she wanted afew minutes alone with Quinn and that wasn’t Mel’s fault. “Quinn?”
“Sure.” She didn’t seem crazy about chumming it up with Mel, butshe didn’t look terribly offended, either. That was a relief.
She fixed coffee, poured Cal a fresh glass of water, and returnedto the living room. Mel was in the middle of telling a story about Cal’schildhood exploits. It could have been perfectly innocent, but it felt a bitlike an animal marking its territory. She tried shifting the subject to Quinn’snephew being at Cornell and Cal, God bless him, ran with it.
After what felt like an eternity of small talk, Mel noted sheshould probably head to her office for a few hours. Amanda walked her to thedoor to make sure she didn’t change her mind. She didn’t, but she did drop ahint about coming over for breakfast again before the semester started,complete with a line about having a sleepover. Like old times. Amanda kept heranswer noncommittal and shooed Mel out the door.
She returned to the living room and found Quinn and Cal engrossedin conversation. It would have made her smile under any circumstances. Today,with Cal a day out of surgery and Quinn with every right to be upset with her,it felt like a much needed balm to her frazzled nerves.
Cal looked up and caught her eye. “Mom, I asked Quinn to stay forlunch. Is that cool?”
It would be cool if there was anything other than teenage boyfood in the house. “Of course. I’m not sure there is anything for lunch, but ofcourse.”
“I’m happy to run out and get something,” Quinn said.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” The refusal was more instinctthan anything else, but having Quinn running errands for her was simply toomuch.
Quinn, who’d taken a seat in the wing chair next to the couch,leaned forward. “You may not know this about me because I’m not one to brag,but I’m really good at takeout.”
Cal laughed and even Amanda couldn’t suppress a snicker. “Youknow, I think I might have known that about you. Still.”
Cal rolled his eyes. “Since I’m starving and this sounds like thekind of thing adults could argue about for forever, how about Quinn keeps mecompany and you go get lunch?”
Amanda bit her lip, wanting to call Cal out for being imperious,but knowing he was right. And she’d be lying if she denied liking the idea ofher son wanting to spend time with Quinn one-on-one. “Quinn?”
Quinn shrugged. “I really don’t mind, but it works for me.”
“All right. Requests?”
“I defer to the patient.” Quinn made a bowing gesture that waskind of adorable.
“Meatball subs?” Cal looked at her with optimism.
She cringed. “Maybe something easier on the stomach?”
He frowned. “The doctor said I could eat whatever.”
“But your stomach is still worn out from puking. How aboutsomething a little more bland?”
His shoulders slumped but he didn’t argue. “Turkey sub?”
“Better. Quinn, are you cool with subs?”
“Love ’em.” She seemed to mean it and not just say it.
“Let me grab a Post-it.” She took down their orders, asked onemore time
