The Best Part of Me (25 page)

Her tiny voice broke on the last word, and he watched her face pinch. His entire body tensed even tighter than it was, wondering what he could possibly say, knowing full well that there was nothing.

“It had been my idea to mail the passport that morning. If we would have used another post office on another day…” She shook her head. She took a deep breath before she continued, “The last thing my mother said to me was to be careful crossing the street. I remember looking over my shoulder before I reached the front doors of the lobby, and I saw my parents standing in line, my dad's arm around my mother's shoulders. He was saying something to her, and she was smiling up at him.”

She looked over at him then. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips pursed from holding back a sob. He had the urge to wrap his arms around her, to pull her into him. But he sat motionless, his hands clenched into fists in his lap, squeezing as if it were a matter of life and death. God, please make her stop telling this story.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, she said softly, “Tomorrow's my mom's birthday.”

He didn't respond, only watched and listened.

“May twenty-eighth.”

Moisture once again gathered along her lower lashes as her chin began to quiver.

“Tomorrow's her birthday, and I'd completely forgotten.” Big, heavy tears fell from her lower lids directly onto her jacket.

“I forgot my mom's birthday,” she whispered to him. “How could I forget?”

Two short sobs racked her body before she fell against him, burying her face in his chest. Her little hands, damp with her tears, twisted into his button-down shirt. He could see Quinn breaking apart right in front of him, and he was helpless to stop it.

Instinctually, he slowly wrapped his arms around her as her body shook with grief. Instead of calming her, his comfort seemed to be making it worse as her sobs became louder. No one had ever cried on his shoulder before, and he didn't want to fuck this up. He wanted to gather her closer, to pull her inside of him so he could share this burden she carried. He smoothed the loose tendrils of hair away from her face and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Instead of trying to say something—because he had no idea where to start—he just held her in silence, stroking her head.

He heard her take a deep breath before she cried, “I've been so wrapped up in everything here, and I completely forgot. Just because she's gone doesn't mean I should forget her birthday!”

“Shhh,” he said as he rocked her, trying to calm the rising panic inside her.

“She would never have forgotten my birthday. I feel like the worst daughter in the world.”

“No,” he said slowly, shaking his head.

“God, I can't tell if I feel worse at this moment than when I did after they died. I don't want to forget them. They don't deserve to be forgotten!”

“They aren't forgotten.”

“They were two people. They walked and talked and breathed. They built a life together, started a family together. And only a year after they pass away, their own daughter forgets her mother's birthday like they didn't even exist! Like the fifty-two years they were alive mean nothing now that they're gone!”

He tried to think of something profound. Something that would reach down into her shattered heart and comfort her. But he had nothing.

“God, will this pain ever go away? Will I ever be able to live with this guilt?”

Just fucking say something!

“It'll go away, Quinn.”

“When? When will it go away?”

As he looked out over the valley of the park trying to think of how to reply, he thought of his own brother. Darren had been seven years older, and there wasn't a worse case of hero worship than the way he'd felt for his older brother. He knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“It goes away a little every day. Some days the pain comes back. But the sooner you realize that your loved ones wouldn't want you hurting over them, the easier it is. You let go of the reasons they aren't here anymore, and you hold on to all the happy memories instead.”

She took a great shuddering breath and nodded into his chest. And after some time, her sniffles grew sporadic and her body stopped shaking. Her hands unclenched, smoothing out his shirt, and he felt her relax into his arms.

They sat in silence as the minutes passed. Her small body was warm against his, and her hair smelled like lavender. He could feel the patter of her heartbeat as her chest rose and fell with his. The overlook was blessedly empty, and the only sounds were the distant songs of crickets.

“My mom always wanted the same cake for her birthday. On the way home from work, my dad would stop and pick up an ice cream cake. It had vanilla and chocolate ice cream with a layer of little crunchy cookies in the middle.”

“Sounds good,” he said.

“It was the only time we ever had that cake. It would have been weird to have it any other time of the year.”

He moved his thumb lazily back and forth along her spine.

“One year my dad surprised her with diamond earrings. It was one of the only times I remember my mother being speechless. I was about ten at the time, and the earrings didn't look like anything special to me. But my mom… She snapped them right out of that box, put them in her ears, and never took them off. When I asked one day why she always wore them, she told me that it wasn't the size of the diamond that mattered. It was the love that they were given with. Later I realized how long my father must have saved up to buy those earrings on his teacher's salary.”

“He must have really cared for her.”

“Oh, he did. He would have done anything for her. My mom was a beautiful woman. So full of kindness and love. But she had a temper that you didn't want to cross. Where my father was practical and calm, my mother was impulsive and easily defensive. Think of my Aunt Maura only louder.”

“Good God.” He shuddered. He felt her smile against his chest.

“I remember the year after he bought the diamonds, he got my mom a vacuum cleaner for her birthday. It came in a big, tall box, and he wrapped it up with a bow on top. She was so excited until she saw what it was.”

Her tiny frame trembled with laughter before growing still again. The hair on the top of her head was tickling his chin, but he didn't care. Clouds were moving in over the hills across the valley, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they'd block the moon.

“I miss them,” she said softly.

He squeezed her a little tighter, just to let her know he heard her. He knew she wasn't looking for him to reply. Ewan was glad, because he wouldn't have known what to say anyways. He didn't want to tell her that the “missing” part was never going to go away.

Darcy appeared to be speechless. A state Quinn, or anyone else for the matter, wasn't used to seeing.

Quinn and Darcy sat at Aunt Maura's dining room table. Darcy's hands wrapped around a cup of hot tea, and Quinn bent over a college application to the Rhode Island School of Design's landscape architecture program. She'd just finished retelling the tale of what had happened to her the night before. She started with her realization that she'd forgotten her mom's birthday, the disaster with the cake, and ended her story with Ewan holding her for half the night in his truck.

“Sweet Jesus,” Darcy muttered, staring slack-mouthed at Quinn.

“I know. It was a rough night.”

Darcy just shook her head. Her friend hadn't known how her parents had died. And when she'd gotten to that part of the story, she'd spilled every detail—again. The retelling wasn't getting any easier. But Darcy was closing in on best friend territory, and she wanted her friend to know everything. And it was about time the two of them started sharing more with one another. They were, after all, planning on moving in together in Providence.

“I don't know what I'd do. I can't even imagine—” Darcy stopped and blinked rapidly, her long, dark eyelashes moving like hummingbird wings.

“I don't think anyone can ever imagine going through something like that. Yeah, you can plan for any eventuality, but until you wake up to that nightmare, it's impossible to understand the emptiness.”

Darcy just nodded in agreement.

“It's like a line in my life. An actual line that is slashed across my soul. It delineated everything that came afterwards. I reference everything either to before my parents died or after my parents died. I think back on that day in particular and remember what I had for breakfast that morning. What I was wearing. The last song that was on the radio before I parked my car to meet my parents. I can't eat Frosted Mini-Wheats anymore. I can't even stomach the smell of them. I burned the pair of jeans and the shirt I had on. How was I ever going to be able to put them on again and not think about it? And to this day, every time REM comes on the radio, I turn the station. It doesn't even matter what song it is, I just hear his voice and I'm back at that federal building again.”

Quinn sighed. It had been a long night. But when she'd woken up this morning, she was unusually peaceful. Her mother wouldn't have wanted her to wallow away just because it was her birthday.

She'd dreamed about her. And in Quinn's dream, her mom was happy. Between Ewan's comfort and her dream, something had mended her heart a little bit.

“My grandma is the most important person in my life,” Darcy said softly. “I can't imagine how I'd manage if something would happen to her.”

Quinn smiled faintly at her friend. Darcy wasn't forthcoming with information about her family or past. Quinn didn't push her or ask her pointed questions, but she tried to encourage her friend to talk to her if she wanted to.

“That's why you need to make every moment count. Don't set yourself up for any regrets.”

“Yeah. Life's too short, right?”

“Exactly.” She smiled. “Which is why you need to grow a pair and let Sean know you're crazy about him.”

Darcy gurgled into her tea and came away coughing.

“Fuck no. I've changed my mind. I'm cutting that dream loose,” she said as she wiped tea from her chin.

“What? You can't just say it's over. You can't turn off love like a light switch.”

“Whoa, there, amiga. Who said anything about love?”

Quinn gave Darcy a look that hopefully said
you're delusional
.

“Okay, how about this?” Darcy started. “I'll probably always have a thing for Sean. He's been pulling on my heartstrings longer than I've been wearing a bra. But my feelings are changing. And I want someone to feel that way about
me
. And if it's not gonna be Sean, then it's gonna have to be someone else. I deserve that, right?”

Quinn nodded at her friend. Everything she said was completely true. But the pained look in Darcy's eyes told Quinn that her friend wasn't buying her own brand of advice. Before she could tell her that, there was a sharp knock at the door.

“Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?”

Quinn turned to see a middle-aged woman standing on the porch on the other side of the screen door. She wore a blue-and-white-polka-dot sundress that fell just below her knees with dark Mary Jane shoes. Her light hair hung to her chin in ribbons of curls. She was quite striking for an older woman.

“Oh, dear Lord,” Darcy murmured.

Quinn furrowed her brow in confusion as Darcy's cheeks turned a faint pink. Quinn got up and walked to the door.

“Hello. Are you looking for Maura Hughes?”

“No, actually. I was hoping to speak with you,” she replied with a pleasant smile of straight white teeth.

Quinn opened the door and invited the woman inside.

“You must be Quinn.” She grasped her hand in both of hers. “I drive by this house every day on my way to work, and I can't help but marvel over the beautiful job you've done on your aunt's backyard. It's stunning! What a lovely retreat you've made for her.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“Now, I hope I'm not being too forward, but I have been thinking about doing something in my own back garden, but I just don't know where to even begin! Since you're so talented, do you think you might be able to stop over to my house and have a look around? Maybe you could give me some ideas for a way to spruce it up.”

The woman looked so hopeful chewing on her bottom lip Quinn almost laughed.

She must have mistaken Quinn's lack of response as a negative answer. “Oh, please? Maybe you can stop by tonight and stay for dinner, dear. I'd be happy to set an extra plate for you.”

The woman seemed harmless enough. And it wasn't like she had anything else to do. Ewan had said he had dinner plans at his aunt's this evening, so she wouldn't see him until later anyways. Stopping over to have a look at a backyard couldn't hurt.

“I'd be happy to take a look at your garden.”

“Oh, wonderful! I don't live far from you. Here's my address.” She handed Quinn a piece of flower-covered stationary. “Shall we say around seven this evening?”

“That sounds fine.”

“Lovely. I'm making a roast. I hope that's okay.”

“That's fine, thanks.”

“See you tonight, Quinn,” she said, giving a little wave as she turned to go, but then stopping suddenly. “Darcy! I didn't even see you sitting over there. How are you, dear?”

Darcy smiled shyly at the woman. “Fine, Mrs. McKenna. Nice to see you.”

Quinn looked at her friend and then back to the light-haired woman standing in the doorway.

Mrs. McKenna?

“It's always a pleasure to see you. You are looking prettier than ever. Did you cut your hair since I saw you last?”

Darcy shook her head and smiled.

“Well, you look lovely nonetheless.”

Mrs. McKenna looked back and noticed Quinn's confused expression.