Big Girls Don’t Cryby Fergie
My parents’ house was filled with people, food and noise. I eased my way out of the kitchen and into the hall, looking for a little break from all the family members who wanted to hear the details about my first season as a pro football player, as if they didn’t know. I’d lost count of how many times I’d agreed that this had been a growing year, that we were a young team, that Coach Harris was a wonderful man and that our quarterback Gideon Maynard was due to have an amazing season.
I’d promised tickets to my uncle and two cousins, and I’d told my other teenaged cousin—female variety—that I’d do my damnedest to get her a signed picture of Gideon.
“I’d take Corey Iverson, too,” she’d added, wagging her eyebrows. “He’s hot.”
“He’s also married.” I tapped her on the nose. “And way too old for you.”
She stuck out her tongue at me. “You’re no fun.”
I wanted to laugh.Yeah, that seems to be the general opinion of the world at large.
The hallway was a little quieter. I could hear my mother’s voice as she greeted newcomers at the door, and in the living room, my brother Simon laughed. I saw him in silhouette, his arm around Justine as they chatted with my grandmother. His fingers rubbed Justine’s hip, just shy of her ass. A pang of bitter jealousy made my stomach clench; I didn’t begrudge Simon an ounce of his happiness with the beautiful Justine, but God, I missed that feeling of being connected to someone. I missed being able to look across the room at a familiar pair of eyes, the luxury of exchanging a glance with someone who knew what I was thinking almost before I did. I wanted that again. For one fleeting moment, I hated Nate for what he’d said to me last summer. I regretted listening to his advice. I wanted Quinn, and dammit, I wanted her now.
As though my longing had summoned her, Quinn’s voice carried to me over the buzz of other conversations. She’d just come through the door, I realized; Carrie was with her, both of them hugging my mother and smiling. Part of me wanted to go to her; she was pulling me closer, like a magnet. But I stayed where I was, waiting, content for the moment to just watch her unawares.
“Can you believe this? One of my boys is actually getting married. I never thought I’d see the day.” My mom shook her head. “Quinn, you look so pretty tonight. Come in and get something to eat and drink.”
“Everything’s lovely, Lisa.” Carrie sounded a little wistful. “You must be so excited. I can’t imagine any of us are old enough to be mothers-in-law.”
I didn’t have to see them all to feel the awkward pause; Carriehadbeen a mother-in-law already, though I doubted she’d ever considered herself that. My mother, never one to allow her friends to flounder, jumped in with both feet.
“Well, of course we aren’t. But I’m embracing it anyway, because it’s going to finally get me a daughter.” She laughed. “And a hell of a lot easier than going through pregnancy and childbirth, right?”
Conversation swelled, drowning out the rest of whatever Carrie and Quinn said in reply. I glanced around, wondering if I could make it to the steps before they started heading to the dining room. I knew it was cowardly and petty, but I wasn’t excited about the idea of seeing Quinn, especially after our last encounter in Virginia. And I kind of doubted she was going to be happy to run into me, either.
Having her in my townhouse that night, just down the hall from my bedroom, had been pure hell. Ever since I’d moved in, I’d pictured Quinn there with me someday. Even as my mother had decorated, I’d asked her to keep everything simple, because somewhere at the back of my mind, I’d believed Quinn would move in and eventually and make it her own.Ourown.
I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that the very first time she came to my house, I’d be forced to break her heart. Again.
But of course, that was what had happened. I’d been sorely tempted at so many points in that evening ... tempted to ignore everything that Nate had advised as well as every word my mother had said and just say ... yes.Yes.Yes, Quinn, I want you. I want you to move down here with me, and I want us to get married, and I want us to be together forever this time.It would have been so easy.
What I hadn’t expected, though, was that the voice in my head stopping me was actually my own. It wasn’t because I’d changed my mind, not at all; it was just that suddenly, I understood how well Nate had known Quinn and how uncannily accurate my mom’s insights had been. In a rare moment of crystal clarity, I’d seen for myself what I’d wanted to deny.
Quinn wasn’t ready yet. She was running away from something, not running toward me. She was hurting about Nate and angry at her mother, and I was the logical answer to both those problems. Unfortunately, that was not a promising way for us to begin our life together, not when I wanted forever with her. So while it had fucking killed me to turn her away and tell her no, I’d done it because I knew that in the long run, I was doing both of us a favor. I was denying us now so that later—and God, I hoped it wasn’tmuchlater—we could have a stronger base and a better chance for lasting happiness.
Closing that door and leaving her so that I could walk to my own bedroom had been torture. I hadn’t slept well, and judging by how she looked the next morning, neither had Quinn. I’d gotten up early and made us breakfast, hoping that maybe we could talk things out a little more. I’d thought that maybe in the light of day, when she might have been more rested, Quinn would understand that we couldn’t jump into anything. Not again.
But when the bedroom door had opened and she’d come into the kitchen, she was dressed, with her coat over her arm and her bag on the other shoulder. She’d stared over my shoulder as she’d told me calmly that she’d booked a ticket on the next train north, and it left in an hour. Would I mind driving her to the station, or should she call a taxi? Or, she’d added, even if I could drive her to a diner or a gas station nearby, she could call a cab to get her there.
Of course I’d driven her to the station. It had been the longest fifteen minutes of my life; the car was filled with a heavy silence, and Quinn had stared out the window, her mouth set in a line and her eyes shuttered.
She hadn’t spoken until we’d turned into the parking lot of the train station, at which point she’d motioned to the door of the small building.
“You can just drop me off there, please.”
“You don’t want me to wait with you?” I hadn’t been surprised, but I’d had to ask.
“No, thanks. That doesn’t make any sense. I’ll be fine.”
When the car slowed to a stop, she waited barely a nanosecond before the passenger door was open and she was out. I’d reached for her, wanting to say something more, needing to say something else.
“Quinn—”
“Thanks for the ride, Leo. I’m sure I’ll see you around, maybe, the next time you’re up at home.” She’d slammed the car door and turned around, vanishing into the train station.
And that was the last I’d heard from her, until this moment. So yeah, I was pretty sure seeing each other now could be nothing but awkwardness and pain.
