36. Quinn
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
quinn
Two weeks.
That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen him.
I’m not sure how we’ve avoided running into each other in this small town.
Day after day, a new entry from Graham’s journal is delivered to me.
One of his siblings has come in for a coffee or pastry and left me with an envelope I’m always so giddy to receive.
Reading each one is emotional, especially the ones early on when we were trying and failing at faking anything around each other. It was the entry from our first meeting in the bar that opened my eyes the most. Such a contrast to the last one I received, declaring his love for me in ink.
It’s been beautiful to see our relationship bloom from his perspective. Having these pieces of him is monumental, and it’s clear that his opinions of himself slowly stopped being so negative and doubtful.
Does he see the differences?
When I turn to the clock on the wall, my heart sinks when I see the time. It’s almost five p.m., and no one has come to drop off a letter today. Maybe there are no more?
All the chairs are stacked on top of the tables and just as I go to flip the light switch, a knock on the window draws my attention.
Claire waves at me through the glass, with Booth standing at her side, both their cheeks pink from the cold, and I run over to let them in.
“ They weren’t kidding when they said a snowstorm was coming.” Claire shakes the snow from her hat and turns to her son, who is hovering behind her as she wobbles into the bakery on crutches. She’s slowly becoming more mobile, and I bet she’s itching to get the cast off. “ That’ll do. Now , run off and stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”
“ Gee , thanks, Ma . Good to know I’m just your butler.” Booth rolls his eyes.
“ Oh , sweetheart, you’re so much more than that.” Claire turns to me and winks. “ He’s also my private chef.”
He scoffs, flips two chairs over for us to sit on, and plants a kiss on her cheek. “ I’ll be outside. Text me when you’re done. Later , Quinn .”
Apparently this is a conversation between Claire and me.
After Booth leaves to wait in the truck, I flip the sign on the door to closed , lock up, and keep the lights on, casting a warm glow on the snowy sidewalk outside.
She scans my face as I sit across from her before smiling warmly. “ How are you, sweetheart? You look well.”
I haven’t seen Claire since the wedding, and up until now, I was worried what she would think about my and Graham’s “separation.”
“ I’m doing good. Busy since the bakery reopened last week. How are you? Let me get you something warm to drink.” I go to stand, but she holds up a hand, stopping me.
“ Don’t worry about that. Let’s talk for a moment.” She must see the worry in my eyes. “ Nothing like that. Graham has told me what’s going on and I’m not here to berate you like some justice-searching mother.”
Chuckling , I settle in my seat, my flustered state slowly easing off.
“ As a parent, you want the best for your children. All four of mine are very different. While my love for them is unconditional it can be hard to juggle so many personalities, but that’s just part of the job description. I like to think I’m a good parent to all of my kids, but I’d be lying if I said I always got it right. Ted , my husband, was much more pragmatic than me, so when the kids needed that type of parenting, he would step in. When we lost him, they lost that person, but I think it impacted Graham the most. It turns out I’ve failed Graham a lot recently.”
I frown and she shakes her head. “ I know about Jenna .”
My spine goes ramrod straight, hackles up at her name, and Claire doesn’t miss it.
“ That’s exactly the reaction she deserves. Graham came over this weekend and told me everything that went on between them, and how her relationship with my nephew started well before they ended things. Now , don’t go giving me excuses and telling me I couldn’t have known, because in my stubborn head, yes, I should have. The fact Graham felt he had to protect my feelings like that makes me proud but also tells me we both failed.
“ I should have opened my eyes more and not allowed him to brush me off whenever I questioned their breakup. He’s a silent protector and I think that’s what he was doing, but he shouldn’t have had to do that. He knows that now. And we had a good talk—emotional, but good. I can’t replace his father, but I’m going to try to see things from his perspective more. In return, he’s promised to not hide things from me, even if it’s hard to hear. ”
How the hell do I have any more tears left?
She hands me a tissue and wipes away the moisture in her own eyes. “ I don’t know if Graham told you about my childhood, but, Claire ”—my hand wraps around hers—“you’re a wonderful Mom , and they’re all so lucky to have you. Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She bats a hand at me. “ Oh , I should be thanking you.”
“ For what?”
“ For loving my sweet boy so thoroughly and not giving up on him.”
The agony in my chest that’s been there since I left his apartment threatens to send me toppling sideways. My arms ache to hold him. To hug him and tell him how proud I am that he spoke to his mom.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out two envelopes. “ Graham asked that you read the smaller one first.”
I’m around the table and bending to hug Claire in the blink of an eye.
“ I’ll leave you to it.” She pats me on the cheek. “ Christmas isn’t far away. I hope you’ll be bringing some of that carrot cake with you.”
With a teary goodbye, I wave to Claire and Booth as they climb into his truck.
My eyes fall to the envelopes. Having his mother hand deliver these ones has nervous-excitement churning in my chest.
Slowly , I break through the seal of the first envelope and a small Post -it note falls to the table.
This entry wasn’t dated, but it was written the night Jenna and I broke up. – G
A shaky breath flutters the paper in my hand .
“ There’s a reason everyone calls you Gray . It’s fitting: dull, boring, and emotionless.”
That was how she ended a decade-long relationship.
Relief is the last thing I should feel. Where’s the sadness? Regret ? Hope that we can try again?
I’m not sure when it ended, but it was long before tonight.
She’s wrong for so many things, but I can’t find any reason to disagree with her.
Had I been a different man, this would have ended differently. And sooner.
But I’m just Graham .
Gray .
It takes every modicum of restraint not to crumple up the paper in a fit of rage.
I don’t recognize the author behind the words.
The other envelope burns a hole in the table and before my anger worsens, I slip the second letter out and cast my eyes over Graham’s handwriting. At first I don’t notice it, but then I realize this isn’t a journal entry but another letter.
To my Quinn ,
I’ll keep this one short and sweet—like you.
I don’t share this entry with you searching for pity, but to show you how I was before you. I know you asked me not to change, and I haven’t, but being with you has allowed me to see how Jenna’s betrayal and cruelty left me branded with so much self-doubt that I forgot who I was.
Because of you, I found myself again. I’ll continue to search for the parts of me I lost or still question.
Last week I took a new step in that journey and reached out to a therapist.
To love you is a privilege. To love myself is fundamental.
I’m still learning, but thank you for teaching me that.
Hopeful to have you in his arms again soon,
Graham
What are the odds?
I know Jo wouldn’t have told him about my upcoming appointment, so knowing he’s taking this step on his own is big. Even though we haven’t been together in weeks, it feels like he’s been with me every step of the way.
I’m desperate to have my hand in his for the rest of this journey.
And hopefully, our paths join soon.