It always mattered. Jake’s support was gold to me, especially since he so rarely had the opportunity to give me his stamp of approval.
“It doesn’t,” I mumbled, looking away. “I was just asking.”
Kyle took pity on me and offered up some rare sincerity. “He’s proud of you, Quinn. We all are. You killed it last night. Plus, we’re all on pins and needles waiting to see how you’re going to get out of this latest mess.”
Of course. I was a screwup. Even when I won, I lost. But I couldn’t let that get me down. I had a blue check mark, and what I did with that power was up to me. I sank into the chair beside my bed, unsure what to say or how to feel. This had been my dream for so long, but I’d never really allowed myself to believe it could actually happen for me.
“What should I do?” I asked. “About the security problem, I mean?”
“First, pack a bag. You’re staying at the main house for a few days. Second, brush your fuckin’ teeth and take a shower. I’m thinking you smell like Bigfoot’s dick right now. And third, be ready in thirty minutes. I’m coming to get you.”
“You don’t have to make the trip over. I can drive myself.”
“No worries. We all have to be at Mom and Dad’s by noon anyway.”
My stunned expression said it all.
“Seriously, Quinn? It’s Mother’s Day.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again. It happens every year. Haven’t you been reading the family group chat?”
The truth was the family group chat had been blowing up my feed as of late. Once it started interrupting practice sessions for the show, I’d silenced them.
“Unbelievable.” Kyle shook his head. “You’ve been muting your own family? Do you realize how many people would kill to be in a McKallister family photo?”
“We’re taking photos too?” I whined. Nothing brought frowns to our faces faster than trying to fake happiness for a family photo.
Kyle shrugged. “The man has so little joy, Quinn. Just give him what he wants.”
Yes, you heard right. Somehow, over the years, Mother’s Day had become about my father. He took credit for everything because, and I quote, ‘You kids should thank me instead because chances are your mother wasn’t in the mood.’ So, now, in addition to his birthday week, we all had to celebrate him on Mother’s Day.
“I’m tired of living in fear of Dad’s special holidays. Someone needs to put an end to his tyranny.”
“Great. I nominate you. But please let me be in another state when you rip the beating heart out of his chest.”
I cringed at just the thought of being the Grinch who stole Mother’s Dayfrom my father.
“Never mind. I’ll be there.”
“Ah, good. Doesn’t it feel nice to be agreeable for a change?” Kyle dissed. “Oh, and Quinn? Don’t forget to wear white.”
“White? Are we going to a Spanish rave?”
“Pictures, shithead. Dad’s request. Just do it and stop complaining. Jesus.”
I exhaled audibly. “My god. Fine. I’ll come dressed like the Pillsbury Doughboy. Are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic. Love the enthusiasm. Now get in that shower, Sasquatch. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
We hung up, but I held the phone, staring at the screen. I’d just gotten the biggest news of my life, and there was only one person I wanted to share it with. Bringing up Jess’s contact information, I started, stopped, and backspaced multiple times before finally settling on the message and sending off a text.
10
Jess: Noah’s Arc
Sleep finally came for Noah late into the night, allowing me a moment to reflect on everything that had happened. The on-purpose accident, Quinn, the passion on the couch, the revelation that my son was strong-arming my exes into professing their love for him. I wasn’t sure how to feel about any of it, but the sick feeling building in the pit of my stomach told me that something was going to have to give, and it wouldn’t be that little boy hooked up to monitors on the bed.
