Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
AUGUST
I didn’t hear her right. I couldn’t have.
But here she is, in front of me, a firm tilt to her mouth and determination in her eyes.
“What?”
“I’ll come with you,” she repeats.
I did hear her right. But she can’t know what she’s saying.
“My parents live in Alaska.” She must’ve forgotten.
“I know.”
“So, that’s where I’m going. Alaska.” My words come out slower, as if that’ll help her grasp their meaning.
“Got it. August and Quinn are going to Alaska.” She points between the two of us.
Though she’s forming words that appear to make sense, my brain still can’t fully comprehend them. Or maybe it’s because I don’t want to hope, only to be disappointed.
“You … why?” The second I ask, I’m worried my question might sound harsh. That I might have offended her.
But Quinn only holds out her hands, palms up, as if offering herself to me.
“Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Be supportive? Be there when their man is in a crisis?”
Automatically, I’m driven to point out that she could be supportive over the phone or with video calls. Quinn doesn’t need to fly across the country with me.
But I stop myself.
Because I want her to come.
“Yes.” I nod, slow at first, then with more vigor. “Definitely. That is what they do.”
I expect a quip back, some short, joking response. Instead, Quinn steps in close, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“When are we leaving? I just need to rearrange some client meetings and pack a bag, and I’ll be good to go.”
There’s a sudden blockage in my throat, and I can’t answer her right away.
We stand in the parking lot, holding each other as the afternoon sun cooks the pavement around us.
Not that either of us minds the heat. In fact, I find warmth in Quinn’s embrace, and the sensation comforts me.
Pair that with the fact that she initiated this affectionate gesture on her own, and I’m in ecstasy.
People aren’t often eager to hug cold objects. I’ve gone a lot of my life with little physical contact. Mainly trying to keep the people around me comfortable.
Having Quinn actively entwine her body with mine eases the mental turmoil I’m dealing with about my mom.
At least a little.
“Tomorrow. I want to fly out tomorrow.”
“Of course. I can book—”
“I’ll get the tickets.” No way is she paying for her flight. “You just go pack. Make arrangements. I’ll make mine.”
“Okay. August?” Quinn tilts her head up, meeting my eyes.
“Yeah?” My fingers flex, wanting to hold her closer, needing the connection and support she offers.
“I’m going to be a kick-ass girlfriend for you.”
Fear for my mother has smothered most of my other emotions, but that surprises a chuckle out of me. But not a disbelieving one.
“I’ve never doubted that.” I lean down to steal a kiss, feeling slightly guilty that even while I worry about my mother, I can still long for Quinn.
There’s no way to articulate how much it means to me that she’s willing to travel with me. A short while ago, she was sprinting across a parking lot to get away from me, and now she’s putting her life on hold to support me.
With an extra bit of effort, I break off from the taste of her, worried I might forget the world around me if I don’t return to it immediately. My hands cup her cheeks, and I can’t help brushing my thumbs over her wildly freckled skin.
I don’t have to say goodbye. She’s not making me choose between a family emergency and giving this new relationship my full attention.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“We’ll figure everything out. Go get Lois in order.”
“Lois?”
She smirks. “Land of Ice Cream and Snow. Lois. Just trying to cut down on the mouthful.”
“Do you think it’s a bad name?” This is not the time for this discussion, but my emotions have all risen to the surface, including my insecurity.
Quinn covers my hands where they cradle her face. “I love the name. You are a clever dork, and I only date clever dorks. If you ever even consider changing it, I’m leaving you.” The threat loses all edge as she grins while delivering it.
Unable to hold back, I dip down for another kiss, wishing this day could just consist of us bantering and kissing and eating ice cream.
But the world likes to threaten my happiness.
I release Quinn, all my regret billowing out on a sigh.
The tempting Pyro steps away, but I grab her wrist, reaching into my back pocket.
Metal clinks together as I pull out my key ring, detaching one from the set.
The metal warms quickly once I slide it into her palm.
“When you’re packed and ready, come to my house.”
“You want me to stay with you tonight?” There’s a note of doubt in her voice. Like worry.
“We’ll be smart. I’ll just hold you.” It’s not like I’ll be able to sleep anyway. And I want her near me.
After a brief hesitation, Quinn nods and pats my chest. “I’ll grab us food. See you soon.”
This time, when she turns to go, I let her walk away, content with the fact that we’ll only be apart for a few hours.
The strange mixture of hope and worry puts me in a daze as I walk back into the shop. Even though Marisol gives me an expectant look, I walk past her to my back office, needing a moment to get my thoughts in order before I talk to anyone.
Sitting behind my desk, I allow myself one minute, a full sixty seconds, to wallow in fear for my mother.
Then I shake myself and open my laptop.
After our tickets are bought, I go to the kitchen and review our stores.
Luckily, my excitement about Quinn these past few days resulted in major inspiration that I poured into my craft.
I’ve been spending more time than usual concocting additional batches, feeding off of the joy that my life was suddenly filled with.
But I’ll still need to stay late tonight to mix up as much as I can.
When I have a full tally of the product and a rough estimate of how much more I can make, I return to my desk and draft an email to my weekend manager.
Denise is great at keeping things in order on my rare days off, but she really only knows the basics.
I didn’t plan on handing over the reins of my shop for any length of time, and I know for a fact that this is one of at least two jobs she works.
The shop will need more than her part-time attention to keep on track.
A vague idea forms, and I wonder if I’m reckless for the amount of trust it would require.
Desperate people can’t be choosey.
I return to the front of the shop, finally approaching the counter.
“And what has you running around like a headless chicken? Is that Pyro on her way over? Looking to melt everything again?” Marisol asks, judgment coloring her every word.
I knew it was a mistake to tell her the cause of our loss of stock.
“Marisol—”
“No, no.” She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “What does it matter what I think? I’m only trying to help you have a successful business.”
“Marisol,” I growl now, second-guessing my decision, “I need your help.”
That shuts the teenage Squid up.
Luckily, there are no customers waiting to be served. I’m able to lay out the situation, and all the snark falls away from my employee’s face.
“I’m sorry. That’s awful. Your mom … I hope she’s okay.”
“That’s what I plan on finding out. We’re going to have to be open limited hours while I’m gone. I’ll make more ice cream tonight, but I’m not sure when I’ll be back. When you run out, the shop will have to close until I’m back.”
Her face falls at this, but then her spine goes straight, and she gives me a nod I’d have to describe as mature. “Of course. Let me know what you need. School doesn’t start for another few weeks, so I can take on extra shifts.”
“That’s what I was hoping. And if you’re open to it, on the days that Denise can’t be here, I’d like you to be acting manager.”
The young Squid’s eyes go wide, and she leans forward, her expression almost worshipful. “Acting manager? Really?”
“It’s a big responsibility. You would be in charge of counting the till at the end of the day. Making sure all the money is where it is supposed to be. Opening and locking up the store. Keeping things running as smoothly as you can until I get back. Are you ready for that?”
The enchanted quality of her gaze flees, and I find myself staring into the eyes of a determined young woman.
“I understand, and I am ready. You can trust me, August. I swear I won’t let you down.”
My hand reaches out to squeeze her shoulder before I turn back toward the office, intent on typing up detailed instructions on how to keep Land of Ice Cream and Snow running while I’m gone. How to keep Lois alive.
The nickname Quinn came up with gives me a small bit of happiness in the middle of the turmoil.
It’s nice to have people around me so I don’t have to shoulder this all alone. I wonder if the immediate support Marisol offered is what it feels like to have a sibling. If so, it seems my trek south may have resulted in exactly what I was looking for.
Hopefully, I didn’t make this move, only to have to leave permanently.