Leaving Bluestone (9 page)

She grunted and took his seat. “It figures. If I get here early to try to catch him, he shows up late. If I don’t, I miss him.” She turned her gaze to him. “Were there any changes overnight?”

He shook his head.

She sighed. “He sleeps longer and longer, deeper and deeper these days. I know the pain must be intolerable, but I keep hoping for just one more moment when he knows I’m here, when he knows who I am.”

“He knew who I was well enough yesterday.”

“He’s been asking for you.”

Quinn snapped straight. “What?”

“He’s been asking for you, wanting to know where you were. We didn’t think you’d come. We told him you were still overseas.”

“So what was that about last night then? Why was he so pissed off?”

“It’s the drugs, Quinn. You can’t take it personally. You should hear some of the things he says to me.”

That didn’t sound like he was any different now than he’d been when Quinn was a kid, but Quinn didn’t say so. This wasn’t about him.

“I wish he could talk to you, that the two of you could talk, and if not make peace, at least see the other’s side. You hurt him a great deal when you went into the Army. You went off without talking to him, discussing it with him. You just signed up.”

“We never had discussions, Ma. We had fights.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Be that as it may, he’d been there, Quinn. He didn’t want you to live that same kind of life. He knew it would be hard for you.”

“The life wasn’t hard. Watching my best friend die was.”

Her mouth turned down in sympathy. “That’s what he meant. He watched his friends die, too. It’s not something he ever recovered from.”

That he had that in common with his father was at once reassuring and disturbing. That might have been something they could have discussed, though his father would probably not commiserate. His father was a tough, “leave it behind you” kind of person. He would scoff at Quinn’s guilt, at his need to sell the bar and move on.

Maybe. Maybe he wouldn’t. Quinn wouldn’t know now.

“Go to the house and get some sleep,” his mother said softly. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“I have a motel room.”

She stiffened up again. “Our house isn’t good enough for you?”

“I’m used to being alone now. And I figured it would be best for everyone if I kept some distance.”

She didn’t respond, just kept her gaze averted. Holy hell, as if being here wasn’t stressful enough, he was going to have to walk on eggshells with her for the next few days. Fine. He’d grown up doing so, but had gotten out of the habit the past eleven years.

“Right. I’ll see you later,” he said when she didn’t respond. As he walked out of the hospital room, he hoped he could stay awake long enough to get back to the motel.

***

After a nap, he showered, shaved and headed back to the hospital, in time to hit whatever rush hour traffic McPherson had. He almost hoped for another family dinner at the buffet because the burger he’d had on the way home from the hospital wasn’t going to hold him much longer.

Liam and Tammy were alone in his dad’s room, and his dad was asleep.

“Any improvement?” he asked.

Tammy shook her head. “Your mom said you were here all night.”

“Quiet here,” he replied.

“Still, it was good of you.”

“Did he wake up at all?” Liam asked.

Quinn shook his head. “Where’s Mom?”

“She went home to make dinner. Didn’t want us spending money eating out,” Liam said.

“I’m sure you’re welcome, too,” Tammy added.

He hadn’t thought about going back to his childhood home. Okay, he had, but it hadn’t turned out pretty in his head, so he’d just dismissed the idea.

“I’ll just stay here and get something from the cafeteria,” he said. Better than driving back to town and discovering he wasn’t welcome. “I can’t imagine she’d want Dad alone too long anyway.”

Tammy placed her hand on his arm. “Come with us. It will be good for the whole family to be together. You haven’t seen Jared yet, have you?”

He hadn’t seen his youngest brother, the one who was going to college, the first in their family to do so. He’d asked, but the kid was still away at school. That he hadn’t come home yet bothered Quinn, but his mother explained that Jared was coming up on midterms and she didn’t want him to miss.

Only if Jared missed saying good-bye to his father, would he forgive her?

“Come with us,” Tammy urged, reminding him so much of Lily with her cheerful disposition, and Quinn let himself be led out of the hospital and to their car.

He sat in the front with his brother. Tension locked up his muscles. He didn’t know him any longer, and the memories he had were not particularly pleasant. He couldn’t match up his memories with the man beside him. In the back seat, Tammy chattered, and on the way to his mom’s house, they stopped to pick up the kids from Tammy’s mom’s house.

He watched the girls with Liam, and while they kissed him hello, they turned to Tammy to talk about their day. They watched Quinn warily, but didn’t address him and he didn’t talk to them. The only kid he knew how to talk to was Leo’s son Max, and even that was uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath on the steps of his childhood home as the girls barreled through the door. He couldn’t remember ever being excited to get inside, and he was definitely less so now. He held the door for Tammy, who smiled at him, a smile that made him think of Lily. Then his brother stepped behind him to take the door and urge him inside.

The place smelled different, a little musty. It was an old house—hadn’t been new when he’d lived here, but now he could smell the age of the place beneath the scent of frying chicken. That had always been his favorite meal when he’d lived home, and rare, since it was a lot of work. Should he read anything into the fact that his mother chose to make it tonight?

He followed Liam into the kitchen, where his mother was wrapped in an apron, standing at the stove. How many chickens was she going to have to fry for this crowd?

“Liam, Quinn, put the leaves in the table and get the chairs from the other rooms.”

He didn’t know if there were enough chairs in the house for all these people. He started down the hall just as his old bedroom door opened.

“Jared!”

His youngest brother stepped out in the hall. Christ, he hadn’t seen the kid since he was, well, the age of Rose’s oldest. Jared was tall and filled out—hell, he looked like Quinn when he’d gone into the Army. His first instinct was to grab his brother and hug him, but hell, that wasn’t his family’s way. Besides, he’d bolted and never looked back, just when the kid needed a big brother.

Instead, he clapped his brother on the shoulder and looked into his wary eyes. “Hey, Jared, how’s it going?”

Jared leaned back, away, breaking contact. “All right.”

“How’s college?”

“Good.”

So. He had the family trait—a man of few words. Quinn inclined his head toward the kitchen. “Mom wants more chairs. Know where I can find some?”

Without a word, Jared ducked back into the bedroom Quinn used to share with Liam, then emerged with a chair.

“I think there’s a rolling chair in Rose’s old room. It’s the sewing room now,” Liam said, hauling a wing-backed chair from the living room. “Then maybe get some lawn chairs from the back yard.”

Once the table was set, everyone sat, much closer together than was probably healthy. The dining room had been small for a family of six. Add five grandkids and two in-laws, take away elbow room. Quinn managed to snag a thigh and a spoonful of macaroni and cheese before passing it on.

The chicken was as good as he remembered, but he could barely swallow, waiting for accusations to come. But it was worse than that.

No one spoke to him. They talked to each other, and he learned the Jared was in his senior year at Kansas State, living off-campus, not dating. The only time Quinn saw his mother smile was when Jared was talking.

The kids held a conversation of their own, louder and louder, about some television show. His father would never had allowed such racket, but Tom and Liam seemed oblivious. And Quinn was invisible, in the center of the table in a plastic lawn chair. He was perfectly happy with that, and then Rose noticed.

“So tell us about Minnesota,” she said, shushing her kids and leaning on the table.

“Nothing to tell,” he replied, his attention on his water glass. “I have a bar, I have a boat. It’s colder than—” He glanced at the kids. “Colder than Kansas from about November to April, but it’s the best fishing in the world.”

“And that’s it?” Rose asked, her mouth turned down.

“What more do I need?”

“A wife, someone by your side,” his mother said.

“If I had one of those, I’m sure I would have let you know.”

“At least you’re sure of that,” Liam said with a half-smile.

“Aren’t you lonely?” Rose asked.

“I like being alone.”

“You always did,” his mother said. “That must be a miserable life.”

“Like I said, I like it.”

“You need to have a family. It’s what normal people do.”

He swallowed hard, the hurtful words bubbling in his throat. He wouldn’t remind his mother of her own unhappiness, of the misery in this house. And hell, maybe he was remembering it wrong, if Rose still wanted to be here, if Liam was still around, and Jared. Maybe he was the miserable one.

Silently, he rose and carried his plate and glass to the sink as he’d done so many times.

“I’m heading back to the hospital,” he said after rinsing his plate, aware of the silence behind him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

And without looking back, he walked out.

***

“Is it too late?” Quinn asked, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he sat beside his father’s bed, watching the LEDs on the monitors. He fumbled the phone and almost dropped it. Damned tiny thing. He could barely hold onto it. But he needed to hear Lily’s voice.

“No, I just finished cleaning up the kitchen,” she said.

He thought he heard a smile in her voice. Or maybe she was as glad to hear from him. “You cooked?”

She snorted. “I haven’t had a hot meal since you left.”

“You can still go to the bar.”

“I don’t want to talk to John. He’s always crabby.”

Because Quinn was a barrel of laughs? “You could go to the diner.”

“Then I’d have to tip.”

“Cheapskate.”

“How’s it going down there? Are you in your room right now?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“I thought you couldn’t use cell phones in a hospital.”

“Only where the signs are posted. No signs in here.”

“So you got bored and called me.”

She didn’t sound offended. And he only wished it was that uncomplicated. “Yeah.”

“So how’s it going with your family? With your dad?”

His gaze drifted to his father’s thin face. “He’s not eating or drinking. They have to thicken up the water to keep him hydrated. The hospice people say it won’t be long. This weekend maybe, or early next week.”

“So you won’t be back for a while.”

Something about the way she said it made him wary. “What are you doing to my bar?”

“Nothing. I swear.”

“My house?”

“Nothing. Quinn, when did you get so suspicious?”

He snorted and settled back in the low-backed vinyl chair. “Since I met you.”

“I’m not doing anything to your bar or your house or your boat. I just—miss you, is all.”

His heart clutched, but he shoved her words aside.

“Everything else going okay?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

He grunted, no longer wanting to talk about his family. “Tell me what’s going on at home.”

He let himself lose himself in her soft voice as she launched into stories about Bluestone, the movie night he missed where everyone dressed up in Sixties style clothing for that romantic dance movie, and Dale the town doctor broke his finger during one of Leo’s baseball games. Her voice relaxed him, even as he kept his gaze on his sleeping father.

“Hey, your battery must be dying,” she said after several minutes. “When are you going back to the motel?”

“In the morning,” he said. “I’d rather stay here at night when the rest of the family isn’t here.”

“Is it that bad?”

He thought about the dinner but didn’t want to go into it. “They’re pretty much strangers to me now. So yeah, it’s better to come now.”

“Is your dad conscious?”

“No. I don’t think he will be again. We’re just waiting.”

“I’m sorry, Quinn.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t even know how he felt. “He’s not suffering too much. I mean, maybe he is, but he’s on heavy doses of morphine. He gets juiced every couple of hours, more if he needs it.” He blew out a sigh. “I don’t want to go this way, Lil. Take me out to the middle of the lake and dump me or something.”

“Sure, if you’re still living here,” she countered.

Right. He wasn’t going to stay. “I’ll have to call you to come get me, wherever I am.”

“I’ll come get you,” she said, her tone playful. “Just so I can drop you in the lake.”

“I appreciate it. I’d better go. You have an early tour?”

“Yeah.” She sounded sleepy. He could imagine her letting her hair down as she wandered back to her room, sitting on the edge of the bed and loosening her shoes—or maybe she’d already changed into her flip-flops and kicked them off before shucking her jeans down those long legs.

He sat forward. It was wrong to be imaging her getting naked and getting in bed while he was sitting here with his dying father. He wanted to say, “I miss you,” but he didn’t. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. You know where to find me.”

He disconnected and held the phone in his hand a long time before tucking it away.

Chapter Six

Quinn reached for his phone blindly as it buzzed by his bed. He didn’t open his eyes to check the display, only clicked to answer. “Yeah?”

“It’s your dad,” said a voice he didn’t recognize, but it had to be Tammy. “You need to come.”