Chapter 19 #2
I felt the tension in the circle. No one knew what to say.
“That was heavy,” I said, attempting to break it with a bit of levity.
“Anyone else want to divulge their personal details for the bonfire circle fodder? I mean, I know I just met you, Willow, but please do tell if you’ve reconnected with any of your high school crushes recently.
Jasper? Care to take the spotlight off me for a bit? ”
They all laughed.
“Actually,” Willow said. “I’m in the middle of a real-life love triangle. That’s good fodder.”
“Do tell,” I said, and rested my elbows on my thighs and leaned in as Willow told us about the guy and the woman she was dating at the same time, who knew about each other, but both were now asking her to choose between them.
“It’s a real bi dilemma,” Willow said, laughing.
“Well, you could always try polyamory,” Petra said, as if that fixed everything.
“My personal philosophy is have the cake and eat it, too,” Mom said.
“Yeah,” Benny said. “Doesn’t sound like a dilemma. More like a delicious opportunity.”
“This has not been helpful,” Willow said, laughing.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Just the thought of it being a text from Alex sent a flush of heat through me.
“I’m going in,” I said, standing up. “Really nice to meet you, Jasper and Willow.” I squeezed Mom’s shoulder, kissed her cheek, and did the same to Petra. “So good to see you, Petra.”
I rushed up to my bedroom, fell on the bed, and opened my phone, hoping, hoping, hoping, that it was another text from Alex, even though I felt ridiculous.
Just seeing his name made me feel almost dizzy.
I waited to read the text, relished the heady anticipation, held the phone to my chest like I was sixteen again.
yeah, i can’t play it cool. i’ve been staring at my phone wondering if you’re going to text back. i can’t stop thinking about you. about that party. that night. we almost did. do you ever think about it?
I replied back quickly, putting him out of his apparent misery.
i made it a point a long time ago to never think about it, but it’s all i’m thinking about now. monday. i’m in, perry.
thank god. i worried i got you back only to lose you again. monday. i will be thinking of nothing else until then, quinn.
Lying on my bed, I felt as if I could levitate off it as I reread the texts ten more times just to believe they were real, just to keep feeling that fizzy sense of disbelief pinballing its way inside of me.
After I hearted his text, I heard Benny calling me from downstairs.
I found her, Petra, Willow, and Jasper in the living room, all furniture moved back, and Mom connecting her phone to a massive Bluetooth speaker.
The lights were pink now. Mom had apparently installed colored light bulbs.
“We’re having a dance party,” Mom told me. “Come on, Charlie, like old times.”
“No,” I relented, shaking my head. “No, thanks. You all enjoy.” I started walking toward the kitchen to get a snack when I felt Benny’s hand on my shoulder.
“Charlotte, this is a request,” she commanded. “You. Dance. Now.”
I turned around and sighed in her direction heavily. She didn’t even let me answer, just pulled me by the hands into the middle of the room.
“Dancing Queen” by ABBA—the quintessential Quinn dance party kickoff song—rang through the speaker and I was transported back two decades.
I started swaying, because once upon a time, I really did love this.
Benny, Mom, and I used to dance for hours.
Often just the three of us, or sometimes a big impromptu dance party with whoever was at the house that night.
Petra put her arms around my shoulders and we moved together, eyes closed. Mom was on my other side now, and I was in the middle of them both, lost in the music.
When Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” started playing, we all suddenly began singing so dramatically and intensely while seemingly line dancing across the room, we kept doubling over in laughter, Jasper and Willow both a little shell-shocked at how seriously Triple Quinn plus Petra took this.
After that, “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” by The Beatles went off and Benny, Mom, and I shrieked because if there was any song that was our song, it was that one.
We screamed the chorus, and rocked back and forth like we were singing an Irish drinking song in the middle of a Dublin pub.
Then, it was “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac and that’s when Jasper and Willow joined in the absurdity and couldn’t keep from singing along to one of the greatest songs ever written.
Mom could never listen to “Landslide” without having to inexplicably also listen to “Not Ready to Make Nice” by The Chicks and let all her feminine fury out, to which all of us—even poor Jasper who was very outnumbered at the moment—absolutely belted every word, making good use of our vocal cords at the “I’m still mad as hell” line.
The six of us were breathless and wild just five songs in.
Reckless abandon was a contagious thing.
Mom always said people needed permission from others to let loose and that’s what Quinn Canyon represented. Permission to be free. Mom was always the first to give in, to show everyone how it’s done.
The lights were so dim it was practically dark in the bungalow and the music was so loud I couldn’t quite stop myself from giving in. Soon, I was jumping with my hands in the air, hair whipped across my face, rivulets of sweat rushing down the sides of my neck.
When Whitney’s “I Have Nothing” started playing—Mom devising the perfect playlist and the perfect moment for a ballad—I didn’t even think twice before performing my own karaoke rendition of it.
This was one of my favorite songs ever, and Benny, Mom, and Petra knew it.
I sang the song like I was Whitney Houston.
My eyes were closed and I could feel them all laughing with me, swaying, and being my backup vocalists.
I couldn’t believe I still remembered every word to this song.
The moment I was done, we all devolved into carefree laughter and I did a silly little bow.
“A bit pitchy, but overall not bad,” Benny joked, and that made us all laugh even more.
Mom pulled me into a hug before I could stop her and I melted into it.
Then the playlist clicked into The Police and then to Prince and then to Harry Styles and then to Dolly Parton and then to Donna Summer and then to The Cure and on and on and on like a Quinn Canyon soundtrack.
We all bounced around the room and hugged and danced and didn’t stop until it was very late and we were sweating and dehydrated and starving and flushed and could hardly stand upright.
It usually took me hours to fall asleep without melatonin and/or several glasses of wine, but the moment my head hit the pillow I was out, until suddenly I startled awake with a gasp at 3:12 a.m., gripped, yet again, by those damn memories I worked so hard to suppress.