22. Porter
22
porter
“There he is! The newest member of the Dad Squad!” I look up from my menu at Mona’s Diner to see Simon clapping as he makes his way over to my booth. “Where’s the little one?”
I stand up as we slap hands and exchange a back-slapping hug. “On her way with your sister. I had a few errands to run, and Grace was having quite the morning, so Quinn said she’d bring her over so we could have breakfast.”
“Awww, the little family going for breakfast,” he says. “But beware of Quinn when it comes to biscuits. She’ll eat them all if you give her the chance.”
“Good to know.”
Yet another thing I didn’t know about the woman. I never pegged her as a biscuit girl. Does she like them with honey? Is it a biscuits and gravy situation? Jelly? Should I order some for her so they’re here when she arrives?
Every day with Quinn I learn something new about her, which is funny because I thought all of my learning these days would be about how to raise a kid. But nope. I’m learning more and more about the woman who is unknowingly driving me wild every single day.
For example: Since she never spent the night, I didn’t realize she likes to sleep in boxer shorts that she rolls up so high that the bottom of her ass cheeks hang out. I also didn’t know that she likes to dance when she doesn’t think anyone is watching and that she has a tendency to talk in her sleep. Oh, and she refuses to ask me for help when it comes to getting lids off of jars. Though I don’t push back too hard. It’s cute to watch her bite her lip when she gets that determined look in her eye.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Simon yells as he claps his hands. “I have a present for you. It’s next door.”
“A present? For me?” Did I miss something in my Quinn daydream? “Don’t you mean Grace? Which by the way, thank you for everything you’ve given us. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
He waves me off. “Happy to help the newest member of the Dad Squad.”
“Is he still going on about the Dad Squad? You can’t just make fetch happen, Simon. ” Charlie asks as she comes over to pour me a cup of coffee. “Don’t listen to him, Porter. This is not a real club.”
“Yes I can, and yes it is,” he says, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be right back!”
Charlie and I watch in confusion as Simon runs out of the diner and makes a sharp right into the space next door that houses his real estate firm.
“He’s a lot,” she says. “But he’s all mine.”
“And Rolling Hills thanks you for that,” I say. “Oh, is there a highchair I can use? Quinn is bringing Grace.”
“Of course. Let me go grab it for you.”
“No. I got it,” I say. “But can you bring over Quinn’s coffee order? I think it’s a caramel cold brew? With sweet cream cold foam?”
This makes Charlie’s eyes light up. “You remember her coffee order?”
I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “She drinks enough of them.”
“Sure…that’s it,” Charlie says. But before I can ask her what that’s supposed to mean, Simon comes flying back in, a wrapped box in his arms.
“What the fuck?” I ask as he slides into the booth, a little out of breath. “You were serious?”
“As a heart attack,” he says as he passes it across the table to me. “On behalf of the Rolling Hills Dad Squad, I hereby bestow upon you your official membership gift.”
“So there are others in this group?”
“Right now it’s just me and Wes. I want Maeve’s husband to get in, but he lives in Nashville so I have to check the bylaws,” he says. “I have some holdouts, but that’s just because they’re grumpy bastards. But it’s going to take off. Just wait and see. Especially since now we can have our monthly meetings at The Joint.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I start to open the box and am for some reason nervous, though that has to do with Simon’s excitement and Charlie’s look of exasperation.
“It’s a polo shirt!” Simon yells before I can even see through the tissue paper.
And yup, underneath the pile of tissue paper, is a pink polo shirt. And not just any shirt, one with the embroidered logo “R.H. Dad Squad. EST: 2025.”
“Every new dad is going to get this,” Simon says. “We went with pink because Grace is a girl, but if you’re opposed, or if Grace isn’t a pink kind of girl, we have yellow and green. You know, because we’re inclusive as fuck.”
I laugh and fold it back up to put in the box. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” he says. But before he can say anything else, the front door swings open, and in walks my two girls.
No. My one girl, and the woman whom I wish was mine.
“There she is!” Simon jumps up from the booth and runs to the door, snatching Grace out of Quinn’s hold. And in true Grace form, she just looks at him like he’s the strangest man in the world.
My niece’s confused face never seems to disappoint. Combine it while she’s wearing a huge blue and white checkered bow, and it just makes the interaction that much funnier.
“Good to see you too, Simon,” Quinn says as she pulls her arm out from his as it got tangled in the baby transfer.
“Oh, shush. You’re old news. But this one…well, this one here is all the talk of the town, aren’t you, sweet girl? When are you going to come play with your future best friend Lainey?”
Simon tries to make baby faces to Grace, but she’s not having it. No cries. No laughter. Just a deadpan stare.
“I know, Gracie. He’s just an odd man, isn’t he?” Quinn takes Grace back and puts her in the highchair.
“That makes zero sense. Babies love me!”
“No, your daughter loves you because she has to,” Charlie says, bringing over our coffees, mine hot, Quinn’s iced. “Now let them have their breakfast. You need to go to work.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, but not before trying to get a smile out of Grace.
He fails. Miserably.
“Oh we’re going to be best friends, little one. Just wait and see.”
“Get out of here!” Quinn yells. “Let me have my breakfast in peace!”
Simon grumbles as he walks out of the diner as I put the shirt back in the box and tuck it next to me.
“Sorry about him,” Charlie says. “What can I get you both?”
“I thought maybe we could split a few things. Also that way we can see what Grace here likes?” I say.
“Oh that sounds good,” Quinn says. “But make?—”
“We’ll take biscuits and gravy. Oh, and just plain biscuits with some jelly and honey on the side.” I begin. “And french toast. Pancakes and waffles, obviously. And throw in some bacon and sausage if you can? Did I get it all?”
Quinn’s eyes are unblinking. “Yeah. That sounds great.”
I hand Charlie the menus, and the smile on her face is knowing and also a little curious.
Damnit, she knows.
“Did you get all your errands ran?” Quinn asks, clearly not seeing Charlie’s wink as she walked away.
“Oh. Yeah. Bank checked off the list. Had a good phone call with the lawyer. There’s apparently a program in Tennessee about being a relative caregiver that Grace and I qualify for. He’s going to set that up for me as we work through everything for me to become her legal guardian.”
“That’s awesome,” Quinn says. “Seems like things are moving in the right direction.”
“They are,” I say, though I can’t help but feel a little sad about that. Because like she said, when I have a handle on things, she’s moving out. I’d never stall that process just to keep her around, but part of me wishes that it wasn’t going so well. “What about you? Any news on the job or teaching front?”
She shakes her head. “No. I did update my resumé just in case. But I have to make a decision soon about going back to Phoenix. My apartment lease is up in a few weeks. I either have to renew, which means I’m looking for a job out there at a different school, or I need to move the rest out.”
“I see.”
I have a million follow-up questions. Most of them around if she doesn’t return to Arizona, would she be staying here, or finding a new place to land? Obviously, I want her to be here, but I know the thought of living in Rolling Hills terrifies her. Though she’s never said why…
“Can I ask you a question you don’t have to answer?”
She chuckles as she hands Grace her sippy cup. “Go for it.”
“Why won’t you live here? In Rolling Hills?”
I watch as Quinn contemplates her answer, but before she can, I feel someone walk up behind me and stop at the edge of my booth.
“Now who is this precious little thing?”
I watch as Quinn’s eyes narrow before I turn to see Emily Babcock standing behind me.
Fuck my life…
“Good morning, Emily.”
It’s the nicest words I can say to a woman who rarely has anything nice at all to say to anyone. Except to me. But that’s just because she’s trying to fuck me.
I don’t have a lot of regrets in life, but hooking up with her all those years ago in high school probably tops that short list.
“Hey, Porter.” She gives me a wink before turning to my roommate. “Quinn.”
“Town bike. How we doing today?”
I nearly bite my lip off by Quinn’s greeting. I mean, she’s not wrong. But only Quinn Banks has the balls to say it out loud to the person standing in front of them.
“Probably better than you…Big Girl.”
“What the fuck did you just call her?” I bite out.
Emily has the audacity to wave me off. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little joke between me and Quinn. Isn’t that right?”
I look at Quinn and see the split second that Emily’s comeback got to her. However, I don’t think Emily did as she’s now leaning over, frankly, way too close, to Grace. “I heard there was a new little baby so I had to come see her. Aren’t you just so cute? Yes, you are. Oh yes, you are.”
Now, I’ve done more baby talk over the past month than I ever thought I’d do. It’s like, all of a sudden, I just started doing it the second Grace was dropped on my desk.
But mine is nice. Soothing. Emily’s is just weird.
And I’m not the only one who thinks so—Grace’s “what the fuck” face is as strong as I’ve ever seen it.
“Come here, baby girl,” I say to Grace as I purposely move her away from the crazy woman standing at my table. “Actually, you know what, Emily? I think it’s best you leave.”
Apparently Emily didn’t hear, or is choosing to ignore me. I’m betting the latter. “Baby girl? Oh, Porter. That’s such a sweet nickname. But of course, you’re a sweet man, and she’s just a precious little girl.”
I’m guessing my expression at Emily’s theatrics are the reason Quinn is snickering. If I had to guess I’d say my look probably matches Grace’s.
“What are you laughing at?”
Quinn shakes her head and fans herself to stop crying. I can tell she’s being dramatic, but that’s the fire you have to fight when it comes to Emily. “Oh nothing. I was just thinking about how sweet he is at home. I’ve seen such a new side to Porter. He really just is the best person to take care of this little girl.”
This gets Emily’s attention. “Home? How do you know about his home?”
And now I see what Quinn’s doing. And you know what? Fuck it. It’s always good to have a show with a meal.
“Oh, you didn’t know? Silly me, I figured everyone in town knew, you know, with how the gossip mill runs around here. Then again, no one tells you anything because most of the time the gossip involves you and which marriage you’re trying to break up this week. But yes! I moved in with Porter and Grace. We’re just one little happy family.”
“You. And Porter.” Emily looks back and forth between Quinn and I. “You’re together?”
“We’re raising Gracie here together, yes,” Quinn says. I don’t miss how she doesn’t answer the question exactly, but does so just enough to piss Emily off. I’m both disappointed and impressed. “It’s been amazing. Playing with her. Family dinners. Oh, and you should see the way Porter twirls her around, making her laugh and laugh. Oh! And then there was the other day when she was napping on him as he was shirtless,” She sighs dramatically. “It was a sight to see. You really should’ve been there, Emily. Because let me tell you, it was perfect.”
Emily’s eyes are so narrow I don’t know how she’s seeing out of them. But what’s getting my attention is how Quinn’s not breaking her seething glare at Emily. She’s standing her ground. Daring her to have a comeback.
Also, I didn’t realize Quinn saw me the other day when Grace fell asleep on me. Interesting…
“Well, that’s just great for you,” Emily says in her fake nice way. “I mean, after you were fired from your teaching job and everything, it’s good that you could make yourself. Let’s be real—who in this town would ever give Big Girl Banks, the terror of Rolling Hills, a chance. Of course Porter would, he’s too good of a guy.”
She turns to me, her eyes showing nothing but mock sincerity. “Just know Porter that if you ever need any help, with anything , you know where to find me. I’m always going to be here for you. Just like I used to be.”
Oh, fuck her. Why is she making this seem like what we had was a thing? It was one drunken hookup at a party when I was in high school.
I look over to Quinn, hoping to somehow let her know that it wasn’t like that with me and Emily, only to see a fury of emotions playing through her brown eyes.
She’s pissed. She’s mad. She’s hurt.
And no one hurts Quinn Banks while I’m around.
“You know what, Emily? Fuck you.” I stand up, Grace in my arms as she drinks out of her sippy cup.
“Excuse me?”
I also realize an audience is gathering, but I don’t care. Emily and her antics have been ignored far too long in this town.
“You heard me. First off, where do you get off going around calling people names? Especially something so juvenile. It’s classless. Just like you.”
Emily’s mouth drops a little, but she has no idea what’s coming. “I could go on and on about how no one in this town likes you. How you’ve ruined relationships and friendships. Marriages. But you know that. You just don’t care. But you know what, Emily? I’m not going to let you ruin my life. I’m not going to let you ruin Quinn’s. And I’m sure as hell not going to have you sticking your nose into my business. Our business. Because my family? No one talks about my family like that.”
I look back to Quinn, her mouth open in awe. Emily might not realize what I’m saying, but Quinn sure as hell does.
“But Porter!” Emily squeals. “What we had?—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Emily. What we had was a dumb, drunken, hookup when we were in high school. It wasn’t this great love affair that lives in your delusion. I was a dumb kid who was hurt because the girl I was in love with didn’t want me and you were…well… available .”
Emily gasps, and the gathered audience snickers at the show in front of them. “Porter…you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I do, Emily.” I take another step closer to her, and I realize at this point I shouldn’t be holding my niece, but we’re in it now. Plus, this is good for her, to learn how to stand up for the people that mean the most to you. “What I’m going to need you to do is walk out of here. I also need you to never come back into my bar. Hell, you should probably look for a new town to live in. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, talk to Quinn like that again, or even look at my child, you’re going to wish you moved a long time ago. Because I will make your life a living hell. And that’s a promise.”
“Uh! Ah! Uh!” are the only noises that comes from Emily. And as I stand there and wonder why she hasn’t left yet, it’s then that I witness, as if in slow motion, as my niece picks up her sippy cup, winds her arm back, and whips it at Emily. And no shit, it’s a perfect bullseye off the forehead. With some speed to it. The cup bounced back and everything.
That’s my girl…
“Ouch!” Emily squeals as she finally takes the hint and turns on a heel to leave. This makes Grace start clapping and laughing as Emily storms out of the diner.
But as Grace’s laugh fades and I put her back in the high chair, I turn to Quinn, who’s still sitting in the booth, motionless. Speechless.
“Hey,” I say, as I quickly sit back down and reach for her hand. “Talk to me.”
She shakes her head. “You want to know why I won’t live here? That. That’s why.”
I look back as Emily stomps across the street. “Her? Quinn. She’s not going to be a problem again.”
“It’s not just her. But what she said? It’s what most people in this town still think of me.” She’s quiet as I can tell she’s trying to figure out what to say next. “Forever I’ll be Quinn Banks, or, as our peers liked to call me, Big Girl Banks, because that’s what happens when you’re sisters with supermodels and I’m…me. Or if I’m not known as that, I’ll forever be the prankster who rigged the homecoming queen ballots to make sure that bitches like Emily didn’t win. And no matter how much I change, or what good I did as a teacher, none of it matters. Everyone knows by now what happened in Arizona and have put it down to me being same ol’ Quinn and not the teacher who stood up for what she believes in. To this town, I’m always going to be that girl. And even though you defended me against her, you can’t be there for every time this is going to happen. Because at the end of the day, I’m still the same Quinn Banks.”
“Quinn—”
“I’m going to go.” She quickly grabs her keys, and before I can stop her, she runs out of the diner.
I stand up, grabbing Grace’s things to follow her, before Charlie puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t. Let her go.”
I look out the window to Quinn, then back to Charlie. “But?—”
She shakes her head. “But nothing. Let her go. She needs her space. Trust me on this.”
I do as Charlie says and sink back down into the booth.
I’ll let her go for now.
But I won’t let her go forever.