Fated Love (19 page)

"Oh,
now
you have an incapacitating injury," Honor said, laughing. "Where's Phyllis?"

"Right here, dear," Phyllis said, entering with a stack of paper plates and the pizza that she had just removed from the oven. "This morning, I made Quinn promise to come over for supper. Instead, she brought it. We were just keeping this warm until you got home."

Honor wanted to weep. The food smelled wonderful, and it didn't require any preparation. Arly was suitably occupied and loving it. And Quinn, whom she hadn't expected to see for at least a few days, and then under potentially difficult circumstances, was sprawled on her living-room floor, looking relaxed in jeans and a fresh white T-shirt, and appearing astonishingly at home. That very fact should have frightened her, but it didn't. For the first time in a very long time, everything felt precisely right.

Honor helped Phyllis pass out the plates with pizza and the napkins and then settled back on the floor next to Arly to simply enjoy the moment.

"Quinn," Arly said seriously, "what color should we do the heart?"

"Well," Quinn said thoughtfully, touching the miniature lifelike replica, "what color do you imagine when you think about it?"

Arly frowned in concentration. "Red, 'cause I have pajamas with hearts that color."

"I think red is a very good color for the heart."

Honor watched as Arly opened the red paint bottle and selected a brush to color the small plastic heart. Her movements were careful, and she appeared very serious as she worked. Smiling, Honor looked up to find Quinn watching
her
watch Arly. What she saw in Quinn's eyes made her heart turn over. She had said earlier that Quinn was kind and tender and sensitive, and she was. But that wasn't what simmered in those blue eyes now, or what made her own heart pound wildly. Now there was undisguised wanting so intense that Honor shivered with the heat of it.

"Is it okay?" Quinn whispered.

Quinn might've been speaking of her present to Arly, but Honor didn't think so.

"Oh, it's much more than okay."

Chapter Fifteen

Q uinn gathered up the paper plates and pizza box and whispered to Honor, "I should go." She nodded in the direction of the sofa, where Arly had fallen asleep. Honor looked ready to join her.

Honor
had
been drifting, her feet curled under her on the sofa, a baseball game on television. Quinn sat on the floor, her back against the front of the couch, where she'd been since they'd finished the pizza an hour earlier. It had been an unexpectedly pleasant evening.

Voice still heavy with lassitude, Honor said, "I still have to take Pooch for his nightly neighborhood reconnaissance. If you wait until I get Arly upstairs, we'll walk you home,"

"Okay." Quinn glanced down in the direction of her left arm, which was still restrained against her side. "I'd help carry her, but—"

"It's no problem. I'm used to it." Honor smiled and got to her feet. "But thanks. If you could give Phyllis a hand taking that stuff into the kitchen, that would be great."

"Sure." Quinn continued with the cleanup detail and watched as Honor easily lifted Arly, who curled up into her mother's arms without waking. It was obvious that the maneuver was second nature to them both. When Honor headed upstairs, Quinn went into the kitchen.

"Where should I put the trash?" she asked Phyllis.

"The bin is underneath that cabinet there to your right, but you don't have to do that, Quinn. Just leave it on the counter."

Quinn shook her head. "It's no problem. I've got it."

"It was nice of you to have dinner delivered. And especially to bring the model for Arly." Phyllis smiled fondly. "She loved it."

Faintly embarrassed, Quinn shrugged. "It was the least I could do after all of your hospitality last night and this morning."
And I wanted to see Honor again.

"Well, you are very welcome, any time." Phyllis leaned against the counter and observed Quinn with interest. "How old are you, Quinn?"

"Twenty-eight." Quinn waited, curious.

"You seem older than that."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, let's see—you just moved here, you just started a new job, and you suddenly find yourself temporarily incapacitated." Phyllis nodded toward Quinn's shoulder. "Nevertheless, you seem to be taking it all in stride. That's pretty impressive."

"Not really." Quinn laughed. "I'm still living out of cartons, I'm worried about missing work because of my shoulder, and even without that, Honor might end up firing—" She broke off, blushing uncomfortably. "Uh..."

"As I said," Phyllis stated evenly, allowing the reference to Honor and Quinn's professional business to pass, "you're remarkably calm."

Settling on the stool beside the table, Quinn contemplated Phyllis's words. "I'm not sure I'm actually
calm.
I just seem to have this place inside me where things stop moving for a while. I go there, I guess, when everything
outside
of me is moving too fast."

Phyllis smiled softly at the simple way Quinn described something so essential. "I think there are a lot of people who would pay a lot of money to find a way to do something like that. That must be helpful when you're performing surgery."

"Yes," Quinn replied pensively. "In the operating room, even in the middle of a trauma, I can feel myself go there...everything becomes very clear and very sharp and very, very focused."

"A truly important skill, I imagine." Phyllis was captivated by Quinn's expression, a look both amazed and sad at the same time.

"I don't know if it's a skill." Quinn sighed softly, giving Phyllis a weary smile. "It just seems to be the way I'm made."

Honor leaned against the door from the hall, listening to the tail end of the conversation between her mother-in-law and a woman whose appeal she was finding very hard to resist. From where she stood, she could see Quinn's face in profile, and, listening to Quinn speak of surgery, she recalled their first meeting over the body of the gunshot victim. That day, her very first impression of Quinn had been one of intensity and competence along with a healthy dose of surgical arrogance. Now when she looked at her, she could still sense those things, but it was Quinn's exquisite tenderness and innate sensitivity that pulled at Honor's heart. Seeing the melancholy darken the handsome features, Honor wanted nothing more in that moment than to cross the room and put her arms around Quinn.
You 're hurting, I can feel it. God, how I hate to be the one to hurt you more.

Feigning a mood far lighter than she felt, Honor crossed the kitchen and announced, "She's out for the count." Glancing at Phyllis, she added, "I'll just take Pooch for a short run around the block."

"No need to hurry. I'll just watch television until you get back. I don't have anything else planned." Nodding to Quinn, she said, "You get some rest now. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Everyone keeps saying that. But I still don't see how.
Quinn got to her feet. "Good night, Phyllis. It was good to see you again."

Having heard his name a moment before, Pooch had rushed to the back door and now sat expectantly, tail wagging, head cocked at an angle and bright black eyes fixed on Honor's face. A fow-pitched whine reverberated in his throat.

"Just a
second,"
Honor grumped in the dog's direction as she fished his lead out of the closet. "God, you'd never think that a walk around the block, smelling every little bit of odious detritus, could be so exciting."

Quinn laughed out loud. "My life should be so simple."

As Honor clipped the lead to the dog's collar, she laughed along with Quinn. Together, they walked down the back steps with the dog forging happily ahead.

It was just after nine, and it was not yet completely dark. Here and there the faint echoes of neighborhood children still at play drifted in the air. The aroma of a late-night supper on a backyard grill floated on a faint breeze. Quinn took a slow deep breath, and amazingly, felt some of her tension ebb as she looked at the woman beside her. Honor had changed into another pair of shorts and a baggy PMC T-shirt. She looked like the medical student that Quinn had mistaken her for on first sight. She looked beautiful.

As if feeling Quinn's gaze upon her, Honor turned her head and looked into Quinn's eyes, smiling. "What?"

Quinn considered not answering, or not acknowledging the truth. But there wasn't room inside her to keep one more secret—not from herself, and not from Honor. "With everything that's going on in my life right now, I can't figure out why I should feel so happy, but I do. I think it has something to do with being with you."

For a few seconds, Honor was speechless. From anyone else, it would have sounded like a come-on line, but Quinn had delivered it with such quiet sincerity that Honor knew that it wasn't. And because of that, she did not dismiss the sentiment with her usual quick brush-off.

There had been a few women over the years who had expressed interest in getting to know her socially. Some had been acquaintances of hers and Terry's, and they had waited what probably seemed to them like an appropriate length of time before calling to ask her out to dinner or a party. Others were women she met at the hospital or at neighborhood social functions who knew nothing of her past, at least not from her. Honor was certain that if anyone had asked around, they would have been able to hear some version of what had happened to her lover. It was not a story that she shared easily. She had said no to all of them, and eventually, the invitations, at least for dates, had stopped.

"Sorry," Quinn said quietly as the silence grew. "I didn't mean to offend—"

"No," Honor said swiftly. "No, you didn't. I...enjoy your company, too."

Honor knew that she could leave it at that, and sensed that Quinn would not press her for anything more. But that somehow seemed unfair, and Quinn had had so much unfairness to deal with lately that Honor could not add to it. "I
do
enjoy your company, Quinn. More than I have anyone's in a very long time. But—"

"Honor, you don't need to explain—"

"I know that." Honor reached over and brushed her fingers down Quinn's arm. "I just want to."

Having said that, Honor didn't know how to go on. It wasn't as if Quinn had even once intimated that she was interested in anything beyond friendship. But it was impossible to deny that some kind of attraction existed between them. It went beyond mutual respect or friendship. There was an emotional and, yes, a physical pull that had her doing things she wouldn't have conceived of a few weeks before.
For God s sake, I almost kissed her yesterday afternoon in the ER!

Taking a deep breath, Honor squared her shoulders and plunged ahead. "I haven't been...involved with anyone...any woman,..since Terry died. I haven't wanted to be. It never even occurred to me."

Quinn's stomach dropped and her pulse rate soared. She was pretty certain that she didn't want to hear what Honor was about to say, but she kept quiet, knowing that she had to. While the dog stopped to inspect each board in a picket fence, she and Honor slowed until they were barely moving.

"Terry and I were together from our junior year in high school." Honor laughed softly. "Phyllis came home unexpectedly one afternoon and found us
in the act
in a hammock on the back porch. I was never so scared in my life."

"I can imagine," Quinn replied. "Or, actually, I can't. Jesus."

"While we were scrambling for our clothes, she informed us that if I was staying for dinner, it would be ready in an hour." Honor pushed her hair behind her ear with her fingers, watching Pooch try to pull a candy wrapper out from underneath a bush on the other side of the fence. "We weren't exactly sure if she meant I
should
stay or what. Finally, we just decided to tough it out."

"I can't see Phyllis giving you a hard time."

"I could almost see her coming to a decision when she discovered us. She loved Terry like crazy, and that's what mattered the most to her." Honor gave a tug on Pooch's leash, and they all started walking again. "She told us to be careful, because not everyone would be accepting of us being together." She laughed again.
"And
she told us if we planned on sleeping together, we should do it
indoors,
preferably in Terry's room."

"Whoa. You got lucky,"

Honor nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I really did. On all counts."

Quinn couldn't miss the love in Honor's voice, for Phyllis and for Terry. It was strange, because it didn't hurt the way she'd thought it would. It was hard to begrudge Honor happiness, with anyone. Quinn cleared her throat. "I'm really sorry, about Terry."

"Did anyone tell you?" Honor stopped at the corner of the intersection of her street and Quinn's and leaned a shoulder against a large tree. Her face was partially in shadow, but Quinn's was highlighted by the glow from a nearby streetlight. Honor was glad for the cover of darkness, because she wasn't certain what Quinn would see in her face.

"No." Quinn wanted to step forward, to touch Honor in some way, if only to offer a small comfort. But she stood still, letting Honor control the moment. Some part of her wanted to tell Honor that it wasn't necessary to explain, but she also knew that Honor would only tell her as much as she wanted her to know.

"We were together almost nine years. For the first few years after high school, we lived with Phyllis. My parents weren't crazy about my relationship with Terry, but they also knew they couldn't change it. I went to college and medical school right here in the city."

As she spoke, Pooch must have heard the change in her voice because he came to sit by her side, pressing close against her thigh. She dropped her fingers onto the top of his head and slowly stroked him.

"For a long time, I couldn't decide if I wanted to be a doctor or an architect, but Terry only ever wanted to
build
things. She was so good at it, and she'd been helping guys in the neighborhood work on their houses since she was a kid. Right after high school, she started in with a construction crew, got her union card, and before long, she was running the crew." Honor laughed. "I don't think they even realized she was taking over until one day, she was just the boss."