Chapter 19
EVERETT
Iwake sometime in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.
My studio looks very different from how I left it before passing out.
I know without having to think about it who is responsible for that.
Fractured moments from earlier drift in and out of focus.
Some of the things I said have bile creeping up my throat.
Or maybe that’s the empty bottle of alcohol eating at my insides.
It’s long past ten o’clock, and the image of Quinn sleeping in the house alone has me bolting from the couch.
A weight in my pocket bats against my thigh.
I forgot I stuffed my phone in there. My head swims as I bound down the stairs two steps at a time and then across the driveway.
I slow when I see Summer’s car. Guilt coils through my stomach.
No matter how upset I was, I should have never started drinking.
Minus the cocktail I shared with her last week, it’s been months since I’ve touched alcohol and for good reason.
I have a responsibility that shouldn’t be up to the woman who… is asleep on my couch?
She’s curled up in the fetal position and—mostly—covered with a blanket. One bare leg has slipped from the fabric and hangs limply over the edge of the sofa. Even sleeping, Summer takes my breath away.
Her skin is still warm minus the exposed limb. She sighs when I slip it beneath the blanket.
She stayed. That’s all I can think about when I look at her. Physically, emotionally, in every way, I’ve been relying on her. I promised myself a long time ago I’d never need anyone. I don’t know how not to need Summer.
I check on Quinn next, kneeling by the side of her bed. A soft hum exits her parted lips as I brush a thumb across her cheek.
She asked for you.
Summer’s declaration swims in my mind as I look at Quinn. I’ve never taken the time to sit and marvel at the beautiful little person El and I created together. Marvel and mourn too.
I clutch her hand and whisper against her cheek, “I’m sorry.” What I wouldn’t give for Quinn to have every part of her mom. Not just her dark eyelashes, wild hair, and heart-stopping smile. “I’m so sorry.”
I kiss her cheek just like Summer said I would, making grand promises my heart is desperate to trust. “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. I won’t let you go through this alone.”
I choose to believe the twitch of her hand in mine means she heard me. A confirmation that she knows I’ll stay as long as she needs. And that’s exactly what I do.
The next time I wake it’s to the smell of bacon. A groan leaves my lips. Every part of my body aches. I know I can only blame a fraction of that on Quinn’s floor. I should shower, but the growl in my stomach leads me to the kitchen instead.
Summer is flitting around in an apron with Emma’s handprints on the front pockets. She’s bathed in golden light from the window over the sink, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
“You’re still here.”
She startles. “Oh! You’re awake. Good morning! How are you feeling? Would you like some coffee?” She volleys at least a half dozen more questions in my direction.
All I manage to get out is, “With a side of Advil, please.”
“That good, huh?” She chuckles softly to herself.
Steam curls from the top of the mug she hands me.
“You don’t have any creamer,” she comments.
I scratch the back of my neck. “Yeah, I like it black. But I think there might be some sugar in the cupboard if you want some.”
She flips a piece of bacon on the stove and then turns to face me, a smile unfurling across her lips. “The one with the candles in it or…”
Never going to let me live that one down, I see.
“I thought you were the one with the habit of going through other people’s cupboards?” I tease.
“Something you still haven’t thanked me for, by the way.”
At this point, that’s a long list that’s only growing. Last night being at the top of it. A subject she seems to be avoiding as her gaze returns to the stove.
She heaps two plates with bacon and strawberry jam–covered toast and sets them in Quinn’s and my usual spots at the table.
“You aren’t having any?”
“I wanted to make sure you both had breakfast before I left. Your sister asked me to come in to work early, and I need to go home and change first.”
The modest apron is doing too good of a job at hiding her black dress from last night.
“Yeah, Emma never has any fun. Doesn’t have any friends either from what I can tell.”
My sister graduated at the top of her class at Berkeley and applied to every open law position in the Boise area.
I never understood why she wanted to be close to home when it limited her options.
Jason Ford, the partner of her boutique family law firm, hired her as his junior associate.
It didn’t leave much time for anything but assisting with his caseload.
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
Touché.
“Well, thank you for breakfast.”
“It’ll cost you overtime.” She winks at me.
I owe her a hell of a lot more than overtime after she stayed the night on my couch. Money won’t fix the fact that I’m afraid it could happen again. I won’t put her in that position. This is a lot to ask of someone, but there’s only one way I can think to prevent it.
“Summer, I—”
A shrill sound rings out. It takes me a couple of seconds to determine that it’s coming from my pocket. A squeeze of my temples is doing very little to dull the pounding in my head.
“It’s okay, you can answer it,” she says.
“Will you please stay until I’m finished with this? If you’re late to my sister’s office you can blame me.” I still haven’t asked my question.
Summer has never made me feel self-conscious about my appearance.
If anything, it’s been the opposite. You don’t buy a shirt with a guy’s face on it if you’re not attracted to him.
But that version of me is not this one she sees right now, hungover and unshaven.
I suddenly feel self-conscious with her eyes bouncing around my face.
“Yeah. I’ll go check on Quinn.”
“Thanks,” I say, sweeping a hand through my hair for good measure. I doubt it did much. What I need is a shower and a nap.
I answer the call after she’s halfway up the stairs. “Hello?”
“You let that woman spend the night?!” Caroline shrieks through the speakerphone.
My brain fights to catch up as I hunt down the button I accidentally pressed when accepting the call. “It’s all over the news today” manages to come through too before I silence it.
“What were you thinking dragging Quinn through more drama?”
I pace the kitchen, putting it all together. The reporters must have seen Summer’s car parked in my driveway all night. It wouldn’t be the first time they made assumptions about my life. I’m sure whatever article they spun up is not surprising. At least not to me.
“I’ve told you… Summer is Quinn’s nanny. I was working late and didn’t want to make her drive home in the dark.” That’s half the truth anyway.
“That’s not what it looked like from this photograph they snapped!” Something crinkles on her end.
She printed it?
I don’t really care what the reporters think they saw. What I want to know is why she does.
“What is it you’re worried about exactly? That it looks like I’m moving on from your daughter, or that I’ll tarnish your family name with you connected to me?”
“I am protecting—”
“The only person you’re protecting here is yourself.
And for your information, I accidentally fell asleep in my studio, and Summer stayed on the couch out of the goodness of heart for Quinn.
So, Caroline, I’m going to say this, and I’m only going to say it once: What I choose to do with my life is none of your business.
I’ve gathered over the years that I’m not your favorite person and you don’t carry a lot of respect for my chosen career.
All of that is fine with me. I don’t need you to love it.
But if you want to have a relationship with Quinn, you need to have a positive one with me.
And I need you to stay the hell out of my personal business. We’ll see you on Sunday at one.”
I hang up while I’m still ahead. Before I can say anything more and potentially regret it. I know I’m throwing myself under the stack of buses weighing down Caroline Blackwood’s opinion of me, but it’s clear the boundaries need red ink to be visible to her.
The only thing I regret about that conversation is not going into another room with a closed door to have it. Summer is standing at the bottom of the stairs staring at her phone.