QUINN
Quinn felt deeply ashamed for snapping at Riley, and she cursed herself as she stepped onto her barge. She’d gone to Aster House with the intention of having a nice evening with a new friend, but instead, she’d gotten stuck in the past.
While they ate and talked, she could clearly picture her grandmother cooking in the kitchen and her grandfather sitting at the head of the table, reading his newspaper. The house smelled just like it used to, especially in the hallway, and the crystal chandelier still made the same, beautiful sound when the front door opened, causing the wind to hit the crystals. It had all come back tonight, the good and the bad. The summers she and Rob lived there while their parents worked long days at their restaurant. Happy memories of barbecues and games in the yard. The way her grandfather’s walking stick tapped against the wooden floors when he came out of the bedroom in the morning, announcing a new day. Her grandmother humming her favorite tunes while she knitted in front of the fireplace. The presents her grandfather brought back from his business trips to Nevada, and his big, warm smile as he watched them unwrap their gifts.
And then, one summer, her grandfather stopped smiling. No one understood why until the bailiffs showed up on his doorstep. He’d developed a secret habit for gambling while he was away for business and built up a debt so big no one could save him from losing his beloved Aster House that his father had built. Their grandmother had no idea what he’d been up to in Nevada, and although their marriage survived, he never forgave himself and started drinking. Two years later, he died of a heart attack in their one-bedroom apartment.
Quinn’s grandmother was in a home now and suffered from Alzheimer’s. Quinn visited her once a week, and sometimes, when her grandmother fell back into the past, her face lit up as she talked about Aster House and those summers.
Riley’s comment about the clutter had stung. Some of it was her grandparents’ clutter, and to her, the few bits of furniture they’d left behind were special and belonged in the home her great-grandfather had built. Quinn used to lock herself in Riley’s bedroom closet when she played hide-and-seek as a kid, and her grandmother had varnished the four-poster bed that Riley slept in. Her brother was right; she should stop obsessing over it, but he was seven years younger than her and had little recollection of how perfect Aster House used to be.
Quinn turned on the soft ceiling light, put the kettle on the stove, and sat back on the sofa next to the kitchen unit while she waited for the water to boil. The barge was small, and there was little space for storage, but she liked waking up to the view of Mystic River and the sound of people on the pier. Over the years, she’d learn to live with little and use her space in a smart way. An old chest that held her books served as a coffee table, and her clothes were stored in the drawers under her bed. Her shoes were in cubbyholes underneath the floor, and even her pans had removable handles so she could fit them into the small kitchen cupboard.
“Quinn?”
Quinn looked up find Lindsey in front of the window. “Hey. What are you doing here?” She frowned as she opened the door for her.
“I was crossing the bridge and saw the light was on, so I came to see how your date went.” Lindsey got up, brushed off her jeans and stepped inside.
“It wasn’t a date. You very well know that.”
“It was sort-of a date, wasn’t it? She said she was cooking for you.” As usual, Lindsey made herself at home. She grabbed two mugs and added tea bags and hot water, then scooped a generous amount of sugar into hers. “Well?” She turned to Quinn and her smile dropped when she saw her expression. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Not really. I messed up.”
“Oh?” Lindsey pursed her lips as she stared at her. “What did you do? You didn’t get emotional about the house, did you?” She sighed when Quinn didn’t answer. “Okay. Seriously, Quinn. You need to get over it, it’s her house.”
“I know. I’ll apologize.”
“I have her number if you want it? You could send her a message.”
Quinn shook her head. “I’d rather do it in person.” She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “God, I’m such an idiot. We were having a really nice time, but then she gave me a tour of the house, and I didn’t like the way she talked about my grandparents’ stuff, so I snapped and told her she had no appreciation for history.”
“And you didn’t tell her you used to live there?”
“No.”
Lindsey nodded. “Look, I’m going to be very frank with you. Aster House is just a house, yet you’ve devoted your life to getting it back. It’s not healthy. Who says having the house back in your family will make your life complete?” She glanced around Quinn’s tiny living space, then peered out of the window. “Do you even realize the only reason you’re living on a narrowboat is so that you can look at that damn house twenty-four seven?”
“That’s not the reason,” Quinn protested. “I like my narrowboat and being on the water.”
“Come on, Quinn. There are plenty of spaces to moor a narrowboat in Mystic, yet you chose the most expensive spot on the pier, and it happens to be opposite Aster House. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
Quinn didn’t have the energy to argue with her, so she ignored the comment. “I’ll apologize in person tomorrow.”
“You should. Riley’s super nice. I’m sure she’ll understand.” Lindsey opened the kitchen cupboard, got on her tiptoes, and glanced inside.
“Nothing sweet there, I’m afraid.” Quinn said, suspecting she was looking for cookies.
“Nothing? How can you not have cookies?”
“You didn’t exactly announce your arrival, cookie-monster.”
“Fair enough.” Lindsey leaned against the counter, blew on her tea, and took a careful sip. “Take her cookies. They’re generally the solution to all problems.” She grinned. “And while you’re at the store, get some for me too.”
“Sure.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “By the way, why didn’t you come tonight? Riley told me she’d invited you too.”
“For the obvious reason. I wanted to give you guys privacy.”
