At First Touch (23 page)

“That doesn't mean I'm a bad person,” Quinn said, close to tears again.

“Of course not, baby,” Charlie said softly. “But it does mean that it takes a lot for someone to know the real Quinn. I know you don't mean to hurt me when you talk about my perfect, bland marriage to Graham, but it hurts just the same. And I know you think that Kendra can take your insults, but I notice that sometimes you hit a little too close to the heart for her.”

Quinn sniffed, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself. She never meant to hurt her sisters. Okay, sometimes she meant to hurt Kendra, but not any permanent damage. “Charlie, I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'll apologize to Kendra, too—”

“You don't have to apologize. But, maybe—just maybe—it's time to grow up a little and start thinking about the effect you have on other people, that what you say matters, whether you want it to or not.”

“But who listens to me? I'm just an out-of-work actress. I don't even have a college degree.”

“You're somebody, Quinn, whether you're working or not. And, believe it or not, there is more to life than acting. There's a whole world out there. It's why I'm so happy that things are working out with you and Wyatt. I think he's probably the one man on Earth who can show you that there are other things out there besides acting. I mean, he has gotten you to eat barbecue and French fries. Who else could do that?”

“I'm not changing for any man. If he can't handle my career—”

“That's not what I meant, Quinn,” Charlie said with a bemused smile. “I just mean that work can't be everything because when work goes away, and it will some day either because you get bored with it and decide to tackle something else, or the industry gets bored with you, all you have left is your family. I would have thought you had learned that by now after this last year.”

A loud crash from the other side of the kitchen door caused Charlie to flinch.

“A little help in here” came Graham's panicked voice followed by Kendra's maniacal laugh of glee.

Charlie stood, laughing. “Kendra's coffee.” She walked out the kitchen and Quinn stared at the wall, her sister's words echoing in her head.

Charlie was right. Quinn had learned a lot over the last year. She had been yelling at Wyatt about taking charge of his life, but she needed to take her own advice. It was time to grow up.

 

The dining room was so quiet that Wyatt heard the second hand on the grandfather clock in the hallway tick each second away. Beatrice had gone all out for Christmas dinner. She had made a perfect golden turkey, mashed potatoes
and
dressing, corn bread, green beans, candied yams…. Wyatt didn't even want to think about the number of desserts he had seen lined up in the kitchen. There was enough food to feed the entire town.

Except the meal was for just her and Wyatt because Wyatt had talked his mother into staying home for Christmas dinner instead of going to the Forbes home as they had done every year since Wyatt had been born. But, then again, the idea of seeing Quinn…Wyatt clenched the fork in his hand even harder as he thought of the look in her eyes when she had walked out of his apartment. He kept telling himself that it had been for the best, but hours later, that mantra was starting to sound hollow to his own ears.

“You haven't said anything about the food,” Beatrice said, breaking the heavy silence for the first time since they had sat down for dinner.

“It's delicious, Mom,” he said automatically.

When his mother didn't respond, he looked up to find her watching him. Beatrice abruptly set down her fork and rubbed her eyes. She looked at him again and demanded, “Are you going to tell me the real reason we aren't having dinner with the Forbes tonight?”

“I told you, I wanted to have a quiet Christmas,” Wyatt lied. “There's usually close to forty people over there, and I didn't want to deal with the mayhem.”

Beatrice studied him for a moment, then said abruptly, “Did I ever tell you that your father lived in New York City for eight weeks?”

Wyatt's fork clattered to the table. He instantly picked it back up, so the food on the back of the fork would not stain the beige lace tablecloth.

“Dad lived in New York City?” he sputtered. “I thought he spent his whole life in Sibleyville. That's what he always said.”

“He lied,” she said. “He lived in New York City eight months before we were married and before you were born.”

Wyatt quickly did the math in his head. “I was born—”

“Yes, I was pregnant with you before your father and I got married. Jim and I were dating and one day out of the blue, he comes to me and says, ‘Let's move to New York City.' New York City? It was insane. I'd never been outside Sibleyville. To move from here to New York sounded about as realistic as moving from here to the moon.

“I laughed at him. I told him that he was living in a fantasy world if he thought two country hicks like us could survive in New York City. I will never forget the look on his face….” Her voice trailed off and Wyatt realized that there were tears in her eyes. He reached across the table to grab her hand. She squeezed his hand, then continued, “I shouldn't have laughed at him. I should have listened to him. He said that he wanted to leave, had to leave, to know what was outside Sibleyville. To know what he was like outside of Sibleyville.”

“So, he left without you?”

Beatrice nodded and wiped at her eyes. “He left. Moved to New York. Got a job at an after-school program in Harlem, nothing to do with the funeral business. His parents were furious. His father didn't speak to him for months. And then I found out I was pregnant….” Her voice trailed off again, and she stared at her plate.

“And Dad came home.”

“He was never the same,” Beatrice whispered. “He tried to pretend that this was the life he wanted. He never complained, but he always said that when you left home, we'd close down the funeral home and buy an RV and drive across America. And…and then he died. So young. He never got the chance.”

“Dad wanted to sell the mortuary?” Wyatt asked in disbelief.

“He hated it.”

“But, you always told me…
he
always told me that there was nothing more honorable in life than to help others deal with death.”

“His father told him that,” Beatrice said, shaking her head. “Apparently, your grandfather hated the mortuary business, too, and came up with that little phrase to make himself feel better.”

“What?” Wyatt didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Three generations of Granger men stuck in the funeral business, suffering for the sake of a legacy that no one wanted.

Beatrice reached across the table to stroke Wyatt's cheek. “You were the only thing that made his life bearable.”

“He loved you, Mom.”

“I know he did, but I will never forgive myself for making him come back here before he got a chance to explore. I made him take over the business because I thought it would make him feel more connected to this town and our life in it, but instead he pulled away from me more and more every day. I didn't know how much until he died.”

Wyatt just stared at her, unable to focus on the numerous questions swirling around his head to ask just one. His father had hated the funeral business too?

“Jim was so happy when you went away to school and majored in landscape architecture. He thought you were going to finally break free of the Granger tradition.”

“I thought…since he never mentioned it, I thought he was ashamed of me. Angry that I wasn't planning to take over the business.”

“No, Wyatt. He thought you were brave.”

Wyatt's eyes watered and he quickly swiped at his tears. “I never knew. All this time I thought…” His voice trailed off and he couldn't hide the spurt of anger as he demanded, “Why didn't you tell me this sooner? You knew how much I hate doing this. I could have gone back to college. I could have opened my own landscape architecture firm in San Francisco or Los Angles…All this time I've wasted here.” He reached for a glass of water with a trembling hand and took a swig before he said something he'd regret.

Because I needed you,” Beatrice blurted out. Wyatt looked at her shocked. Even she looked surprised by her admission. She stared at the table as she repeated more softly. “Because I needed you.”

His anger instantly faded, as he caught a rare glimpse of his mother's hidden vulnerability. “Mom—”

She held up her hand to interrupt him. “Let me get this out because you deserve the truth after all this time. After your father died, do you remember what I was like?” Wyatt couldn't meet her eyes, but nodded in response. “I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't eat, I didn't shower, I gave up. I felt as if my world had ended, and I had nothing left to give anyone.

“And then you came home from college and you told me that you would take care of everything. Suddenly, I had a reason to get out of bed. To help you run this place. To keep Jim's legacy alive around this town. As time went on and you became more comfortable with the funeral home, I came to reply on you to provide that ray of sunshine I lost when Jim died. And you seemed to fit in so well around here. I thought you were relatively happy with your greenhouse and the landscape architecture you've done around town. I knew the mortuary was not your favorite place in the world, but the death rate around here meant you didn't have to deal with it too often. And when Dorrie moved to town and I saw you take an interest in her…I thought that things were going to go fine between you two and for me.” She laughed dryly, “I had your whole life planned for you.”

“I would have been miserable,” he said, simply.

Beatrice exhaled then nodded. “I know that now, and I'm sorry, Wyatt.”

“It's not your fault,” he admitted, reluctantly. “If I really wanted to leave and take a chance, I would have done it, regardless of Granger tradition.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Beatrice said, quietly. “I will never forgive myself for stealing those years from you. I should have encouraged you to find your own way, outside of this. Like Graham's parents. Lance and Eliza raised Graham with love and respect for this town, with the expectation that he would find his way back when the time came. And he has. I should have trusted you like that. You deserved it.”

“Stop blaming yourself. Please,” he said, softly.

“I'm finally taking responsibility for my actions. It's time for both of us to get out of this rut I've created for us. Jim would not want us to live like this. He was one of the most alive people I knew, and it would break his heart to know how we've been running in place these last years, trying to keep everything the same as the day he died, I mean, my God, I haven't even changed the wallpaper in this dining room, and I never liked this wallpaper, even when your father picked it out thirty years ago.”

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”

She blotted her cheeks with the napkin and said, with a huge smile, “Because I want you to leave Sibleyville without any guilt.”

“Leave Sibleyville,” he said, surprised then laughed in disbelief. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You are, Wyatt,” she responded, forcefully. “Because you'll have nothing holding you to this town once we sell the mortuary.”

He thought her first little bomb about his father living in New York was last thing she could have said to render him speechless. He had been wrong.

“What? Sell the mortuary?”

Beatrice nodded and said firmly, “Let's face it, son. You and I aren't cut out for the funeral business. You faint at the sight of dead bodies, and I get sick at the smell of blood. What are the two of us doing with this place?”

“Because we're the last of the Grangers this side of the Mississippi.”

“Then maybe it's time for the Grangers this side of the Mississippi to try something else.”

Wyatt sputtered in disbelief for a moment then choked out, “But where will you live? Where will I live?”

Something akin to a blush crossed Beatrice's face as she murmured, “Angus has been trying to get me to move in with him for years now.”

Now Wyatt thought he had gone mute. “Angus Affleck?”

“We've been dating for two years.”

“Two years?” Wyatt shouted in a mixture of surprise and anger. He shook his head in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I wasn't sure how you'd handle it. I was waiting for the right time.”

“The right time,” Wyatt repeated in disbelief. He opened his mouth to shout some more, then noticed his mother's anxious expression. He abruptly laughed and muttered, “This town can't keep a secret, except the one that actually involves my mother and Angus Affleck.”

“You like him, don't you?” Beatrice asked, sounding nervous.

“Angus is one of the best men I know,” Wyatt said truthfully.

She sighed in relief, then said, cheerfully, “As for where you'll live, I'm not worried. I've always wanted to be able to say that my son lives in Los Angeles.”