Chapter Eight
Bree
The epilogue from A Me and You Thing
ISHUT THE gate on the white picket fence and slowly walk up the pathway. So many memories of living here fill my mind. I’m not sure this is a good idea.
I’ve decided it’s time to make my peace with Quinn. Our friendship will never be what it once was. I can’t hang out with her and hear about how great things are with Sawyer. At the very least, we can kiss and make up, though. I need it, even if she doesn’t.
The irony is that she’s home, yet she’s as inaccessible as when I thought she was gone forever. When something newsworthy happens in my life, I automatically reach for my phone to call her. It’s sobering and reminds me of how much I miss her.
It’s been three long months since I packed up and moved out.
Left behind my perfect life. It was difficult.
I’m sure it was hard for Josie and Jordyn too.
At the time, it felt like ripping off the Band-Aid was best for all concerned.
Prolonging the goodbye was going to be agony.
It was simply time to make the switch. Done deal.
I left the girls with their mother, who they belonged with in the first place.
Even so, I can’t wait to see them.
Sawyer called me and told me I was welcome to see them anytime. It was awkward, but I appreciated the offer. I felt like my presence would make it harder for Quinn to bond with them, though, so I’ve stayed away. Proud of myself for it too.
Okay, I didn’t want to see Sawyer. I admit it.
I received a letter from Quinn, thanking me for caring for her daughters.
It was flowery, gracious, and overly effusive.
I might have cried a little. I keep it in the drawer of my nightstand and it’s already a little worn from rereading it.
It’s proof that the Scarletts of this world can be good, do good. We’re not entirely selfish.
There was no mention of Sawyer in my letter. Our little foray has been erased from the history books. I’m like the deleted scene at the end of a movie. I guess we’ll all pretend like it never happened.
Quinn isn’t expecting me today. I’m not sure how I’ll be received. Here goes nothing.
I switch the bag I’m holding into my left hand and push the doorbell with my right.
Quinn answers the door wearing jean shorts and a white blouse, her hair in a loose side braid. She looks good. Tan, healthy, back to her normal weight. Her hair is arranged in such a way that it covers her forehead scar. It doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t take away from her delicate beauty.
After slight shock registers on her face, she composes herself quickly. “Hi, Bree,” she says slowly. “It’s good to see you. C’mon in.”
Courteous as always. That’s my Melanie.
“Thank you.” I look around the foyer of the house that still haunts my dreams. I miss it, but I’m at peace with everything. “I was hoping to see the girls and…visit with you for a bit.”
“Okay. We’re out in the backyard.”
“We?”
“The girls and I. Sawyer’s not here.”
“Is he expected anytime soon?”
“No, he’s out on a charter.”
“On a boat named…Quinn?”
She blinks slowly. “Yeah.”
“All’s right with the world again.” Oops, that sounded sarcastic. I didn’t mean it to be.
She doesn’t comment. Instead, she says, “C’mon, it’s nice outside.”
The French doors are open to the backyard and a fresh breeze is blowing through the house. Something in the kitchen smells really, really good, but I don’t mention it.
I pause in the doorway because the backyard looks like a veritable preschool.
There’s a water table for the girls to play in, a sandbox filled with buckets, shovels, and sand molds of various shapes and sizes—even though the world’s best sandbox is basically a stone’s throw away.
Two bright red tricycles grace the sidewalk, and the girls are standing in front of two easels, painting masterpieces with chunky paintbrushes while wearing cute little painter’s smocks.
Snacks and juice sit on the patio table.
It’s such a perfect picture of family life.
I was never able to achieve this kind of bliss.
We watched a lot of Disney movies and YouTube in order to survive the day.
I have to remind myself that this is Quinn’s area of expertise. I did the best I could.
“Girls, look who’s here to see you,” Quinn says.
They look at me and smiles of recognition appear on their cute little faces. Their hair is done in the perfect French braids that Quinn is so good at doing, and they’re wearing matching shorts outfits.
“Beezy! Hi, Beezy!” Josie yells, setting down her paintbrush and running to hug me. I cringe a little at getting paint on me, but oh well, a hug is worth the dry-cleaning bill.
“Beezy, I missed you!” Jordyn runs to hug me too.
No tears. Nope. Not going to let them fall. “I missed you too, girls. You’ve grown up so much.”
“We’re big girls now,” Jordyn informs me.
Josie chimes in, “Not babies. We go potty on the toilet.”
“What? Wow, I’m so proud of you.” I squat down to their level. “I brought you each a present.”
They jump up and down with excitement. “A present? Yay!”
“Can you wash your hands first?”
Quinn pops out a few wet wipes and cleans their hands. She’s very prepared.
I admit, I splurged and bought them the most expensive ballerina Barbie dolls I could find. I knew they’d love them. I give Josie the pink one and Jordyn the purple one, sans wrapping, that is. It took me forever to get them out of the “frustration-free” packaging.
They gasp as their eyes widen. They hold the dolls gently and cradle them in their arms.
“So pretty,” Josie says.
“Beautiful,” Jordyn exclaims.
They hug me again and say, “Thank you, Beezy. Thank you.”
They skip off, sitting on the steps of the deck, lost in their imaginations as they make the dolls dance.
I turn to Quinn. She offers me a warm smile. “That was really nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Have a seat,” she invites. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
We settle into our seats, and Quinn asks, “So how are you, Bree?”
“Good. New job. Bought a new townhome. And here’s the bombshell. I’m seeing a new man.”
“You are?”
“Yep. He’s divorced and has a couple of kids.
He’s good looking, he’s kind, and I think he might be the perfect man for me.
I’ve already shared my horrible secret, and he says he doesn’t mind adopting if that’s what I want.
But it all seems too good to be true, you know?
” Because I’m on the rebound, and I can’t stop thinking about Sawyer.
I’m scared he’s ruined me for future relationships—even with Perfect Man. I’ll keep that part to myself, though.
“Sounds like a keeper.”
I shrug. “We’ll see. I’ve only been seeing him for a few weeks, and things are moving way too fast. His name is Clarence, and I’m just not sure I can go through life with a man named Clarence.”
Quinn tries to hide a brief chuckle. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I laughed too. He goes by Ren, so it’s not so bad.”
Silence settles between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. I turn the tables on her. “How are you? You look good.” I study her a little more closely. “You’re kind of glowing.”
I’m jealous. But I knew the green-eyed monster would be part of this visit. I expected it.
“Thank you,” Quinn says as she sips from a can of ginger ale.
It’s time to say what I came here to say. Right now, before I chicken out. “There’s something I need to say to you, so just let me say it, okay?” That came out more forcefully than I’d intended.
She stills, looking a little stunned. “Okay.”
“Here’s the thing. When I first moved in, those little girls were constantly watching doors.
They were obsessed. If we were in the living room, they watched the front door.
If we were in their bedroom, they watched the bedroom door.
If we were in the kitchen, they watched the kitchen door.
I knew they were waiting for you, their mother, to walk through a doorway and return to them, to hold them, to love them.
They didn’t give up for months. They watched, they waited, and when someone else walked through a door, they cried.
Every time. Heartbreaking cries, and I couldn’t give them what they wanted.
A bottle, a diaper change, nothing assuaged their tears.
They wanted what we all wanted, but they expressed themselves in their own ways.
Make no mistake, they yearned for you, Quinn. ”
Quinn’s shoulders tremble and her cheeks pinken as she attempts to hold in emotion. “No one has ever told me that.”
“I never pointed it out. Sawyer was living in his own dark world. We lost him. I mean, he was here physically, but he was a remnant of the man he used to be. He didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh, and his face was so blank, it was hard to detect if he was still in his body. It was tough, really tough.”
Her damp, glossy eyes blink several times, desperately holding back tears.
I go on. “I always envied you for your perfect life, so I jumped at the chance to fill your shoes. And I loved it. I really did. But you know what? I always knew I was living your life, and I didn’t really belong.
I fought it and told myself it was what I’d always wanted.
” I wipe away an errant tear, mad at myself for letting it slip.
“After you arrived home, I looked around and realized nothing was mine and everything was yours. What I’m trying to say is that you’re back where you belong, and I’m back where I belong.
Everything worked out for the best. I know that now. ”
Her bottom lip quivers, and an involuntary whimper escapes her lips. “Thank you,” is all she says.
“I’d like to apologize and say that I…”
“No, don’t. Let’s leave it at that.”
The wind is whipped right out of my sails. Okay. She’s right, though. It’s enough already. No sense in rehashing it all.
We spend a few minutes composing ourselves. Then I say, “So, I brought something for you too.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I mean, not from a store. Something else.” I can see the trepidation in her eyes. I don’t blame her.
“Okay.”
“It wasn’t long before you returned home that Sawyer finally let me clean out your closet. If I hadn’t pushed, your belongings still would’ve been there, just the way you left them. He couldn’t part with them.”
She nods, encouraging me to go on. I lean down and pull out the final item from my bag. When she sees the box, she gasps, and I can tell she knows exactly what it is.
“I stumbled across this box and opened it up. At first, I wondered what all these papers with love song titles written on them were and why you were saving them. I recognized Sawyer’s handwriting and kept digging deeper. That’s when I found his love letters to you.”
Her hand covers her mouth and tears drip down her cheeks.
“Don’t ask me why I saved the box. I don’t really know myself.
I guess I always loved your love story. Truth be told, that’s what I fell in love with.
But it’s not mine. It’s your love story, and it’s time for this box to return to its rightful owner.
” It’s not exactly the apology I owe her, but close enough.
Quinn gets up and wraps her arms around me so tightly, I nearly object.
“I thought it was gone forever. Thank you, Bree.” She wipes at her tears. “Sorry, it’s just hormones…I mean, it’s just me.”
She takes her seat, her arms wrapped tightly about the treasured box. That’s when I notice the small bag of saltine crackers sitting on the table next to the ginger ale.
Hormones? Saltine crackers? Ginger ale?
“Are you…”
Her expression turns evasive. “Um…yes.”
Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I take a deep cleansing breath. I knew her relationship with Sawyer had been renewed. But this evidence of its renewal leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“I’m surprised Sawyer allowed that to happen so soon.”
“It wasn’t planned. And if he makes me lie down one more time, I will run down the street naked while yelling help.”
Tension seeps from my body as she resurrects our private joke. “And I’ll video it and put it on YouTube.”
“Deal.”
Our countenances are somber as we take each other in, then small, hesitant smiles overtake our faces.
I think all is forgiven between us. More importantly, I think I’m going to be okay. It’s the first time I’ve been able to think those words since Sawyer ended things. It’s been rough. Rougher than I thought.
“I guess congratulations are in order,” I say, trying to be upbeat. “A new little one, huh? Maybe our babies will play together.” If things work out with Ren and we decide to adopt, it’s possible.
“Maybe they’ll be best friends.”
I turn and watch Josie and Jordyn as they spin their Barbie ballerinas in the air.
Maybe. Just maybe.