Chapter 7 Quinn
July, This Year
“Tell her to hurry up. I’m starving.” Angus slumped against the back seat of my SUV and yawned.
We’d had a good day fishing together, so I didn’t want to spoil it by admonishing him for being impatient. Part of me wished I hadn’t promised him a fish supper from the chippie because he’d been going on about it before we even took the boat back in.
Instead, I got out of the vehicle and braced to face Heather.
She’d spent the day with her aunt Cammie, so I hoped that had put her in a good mood.
Before I even reached Cammie’s front door, the only pink door on the street, it flew open.
“Bye, Aunt Cammie!” My daughter yelled before hurrying down the front walk toward me. She flicked me a bored look. “Angus said we’re getting a chippie. I told you I don’t eat crap like that.”
She brushed past me before I could respond and I sighed heavily, meeting my sister’s sympathetic gaze.
Needing just a minute without my kids, I strode toward her. “How was she?”
Cammie leaned against the doorjamb. Every other month, she changed the color of two strands of hair that framed her face. This month they were blue. She tucked a blue strand into the natural blond of the rest. “Hmm. Something’s definitely up with her.”
Fuck.
“Did she say what? Kiera reckons she’s just nervous about uni and doesn’t want to admit it.”
“Nah, I don’t think it’s that. She talked about her friends a lot and there was something there. I can’t put my finger on what … but maybe ask if there’s something going on there.”
Girl drama.
Wonderful.
“Right.”
“She talked about Taran. Told me about the picnic.”
The picnic in which Taran excused herself within thirty minutes and barely looked at me when she said goodbye. “She only stayed for a bit. For Heather.”
Cammie smirked. “Heather’s quite taken with her. And she’s not stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“She asked me outright if you used to date Taran.”
Bloody hell. I glanced over my shoulder. Heather sat in the front passenger seat, face buried in her phone. Angus was in the back, waving at me to hurry up. I turned back to my sister. “What did you say?”
She shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t lie to her, Quinn.”
“What did she say?”
“She got a little quiet … and then asked me if you still have feelings for Taran.”
My heart hammered. “And?”
Cammie pushed off the door with a roll of her eyes. “Like I would tell her yes. I just said she had to ask you that.”
“Aye, that’ll never happen. She doesn’t talk to me.
Even when I ask what’s going on.” I scrubbed a hand over my beard, exhausted.
Part of me was looking forward to getting back to work, and I fucking hated that because I’d never not wanted to spend time with my kids.
But feeling like a failure wasn’t something I handled very well.
Cammie stepped out of her house, lowering her voice. “Quinn … have you ever considered that Heather doesn’t talk to you because you don’t talk to her?”
My indignation was instant. “Of course I talk to my daughter.”
“I mean talk to her about your feelings.”
I scowled, confused. “What feelings? About what?”
My sister scoffed. “Any feelings. She won’t talk to you about her feelings because you never talk about yours, so she’s learned to bottle them up.
” Cammie held up a hand to ward off my defensive response.
“Quinn, our parents never talked about their emotions or mental health. The only time we ever heard Mum express emotion was when Dad left. How many times have we heard Mum tell us she loves us? And that’s because her parents never said it.
How many times do you tell the kids you love them? ”
“They know I love them.”
“Aye, but do they? We think it, but we don’t say it.
Being around Tierney and London has made me realize how little we say those words.
They tell each other they love each other all the time.
Tierney tells Ramsay she loves him all the time, and that is one man I thought I’d never hear say those words, but she brings it out in him. ”
Still a bit confused, I huffed. “My kids know I love them. I’ve said it before. It’s something you say when you mean it. You don’t throw those words around. Tierney told Dougie she loved him after he wallpapered the B and B kitchen, for fuck’s sake.”
Cammie snorted. “True. But you know what I mean. Did you … ever tell Taran you loved her?”
I glared, pissed off, because she knew that was a no-go zone. “Of course I did.”
My sister, however, had always said and asked whatever she felt like saying or asking. “Did you tell her how much? Did she know you were devastated by the choice you felt you had to make?”
Was she deliberately trying to hurt me? “Cammie …”
“See!” Cammie winced, lowering her voice.
“Even now, to me, your wee sister who knows you better than anyone … you can’t talk about your feelings.
You’re so good at talking to everyone else about theirs, but when it comes to your own, you’re a closed clam.
You’re locked up so tight. And maybe … maybe you need to think about that and how it’s affected your relationships.
With everyone.” Her voice softened on the last and she patted my shoulder.
“I love you, big brother. Good night.” She stepped inside and closed the door.
Leaving me dazed and winded by her observations.