Pieces of You (16 page)

“I think it’s just allergies.”
Or too much crying last night.

“Michael can take a look at your throat when he gets home. Of course, who knows when that will be,” she grumbled. “It’s not like we’ve seen much of him this past week.”

If this kept up, there wouldn’t be a wedding in the spring. “Annie, sit down. We need to talk.” Evie stirred a packet of sugar into her tea and set the teaspoon on her saucer. “When I walked back into your life, I had no idea what to expect. You could have said you never wanted to see me again and turned your back on me.”

“You’re my
mother
.” Annie’s eyes grew bright. “I wished for so long you could be here with me, even when I believed you were dead. I used to talk to you every day, and from the second I put on your necklace I never took it off.”

“I know. You’ve been wonderful.”

“Which is more than I can say for some people.”

There it was, the hurt right in the center of the anger, smothering her words. “Your brother has his reasons.”

“Quinn always has his reasons. He just neglects to tell the rest of us what they are.”

“You know he’d do anything for you.”

“I’m a grown woman, I’m getting married. I can handle a little disappointment.”

“Maybe he feels you’ve suffered enough. You lost a mother at ten and for all of your father’s outward strength, he was a weak man. I’m guessing your care fell between Quinn and Grandma Mabel.”

“It was Quinn,” Annie murmured.

“And didn’t he buy you a birthday present from Michael when your fiancé forgot?”

Annie’s voice grew softer still. “He was furious. First that Michael forgot. Quinn said not sleeping for thirty-two hours was not an excuse, and second, because I found out about it. I wouldn’t have if Michael hadn’t looked so stupidly surprised when I opened the computer box and there was actually a computer in it.” Her lips curved into a faint smile. “I thought Quinn was going to skin him.”

“Michael says Quinn pays for your parking next to Catholic Charities so you won’t have to walk the extra blocks at night.”

“He tried to get Sister Elizabeth to tell me it was a Perk, but she wouldn’t do it, not even for a pound of Godiva chocolates, which she ate anyway.”

“I’m sure he didn’t like being outsmarted.”

“Actually, the next day, he brought chocolates for the whole office and told Sister Elizabeth to inform me I was now parking in the lot next to the building.”

“Were you angry?”

She shrugged. “I was and I wasn’t.”

“Sometimes that’s how things are, there’s good and bad, you just need to pick out more of the good.”

“He shouldn’t have lied to me about the paintings.”

“No, he shouldn’t have, but I know why he did.”

“I really thought I was good, you know? Now I might never lift a brush again.”

“Did you ever think he was trying to give you confidence because he knew how much you wanted to believe in your work? Maybe it wasn’t just about subsidizing your income. Maybe it was more about giving you an opportunity to prove to yourself that you’re a painter whose work is valued.”

“But that’s just it, my work isn’t valued.”

“Of course, it is Annalise. Don’t
you
value your work? Don’t
you
believe in it every time you pick up a brush?”

“I did.”

“Then that’s what matters. If the whole world gives you a mountain of accolades but you don’t believe in what you’re doing, it doesn’t mean anything.”
And if the whole town tells you what a wonderful wife and mother you are, how you bake the best bumble berry pies and garner the most money at St. Michael’s Silent Auction with your watercolor paintings, but you don’t believe in what you’re doing, it doesn’t mean anything.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Your brother loves you. The last thing he’d ever do is hurt you.”

“He needs to let me live my own life and stop trying to control everything.”

“Give him time.”

“I guess.”

“And start depending more on that fiancé of yours. I see the way you call Quinn for advice and I’ll bet you told him about the sale before you told Michael, didn’t you?” When Annie blushed, Evie shook her head slowly. “No man wants to be an afterthought.”

“But Michael’s never available.”

“Because he doesn’t have to be.”

“He’s so busy.”

“Then maybe he isn’t the right man for you.”

“But I love him.”

“Then tell him, and work with him.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t just try, Annalise. Do. If Quinn sees you easing off, he might not like it at first, but he’ll adjust. And if you’re still suffering from those panic attacks, do something about it.”

Annie fiddled with her spoon. “I didn’t want you to know about that.”

“Why not? I’m responsible for them, aren’t I? I don’t want to carry that around the rest of my life, so please, make an appointment and see someone about it.”

“Actually, Michael made an appointment for me yesterday. The doctor’s one of his colleagues. I’m going to talk to him.”

“Good. You know, I’ll stay a while, but at some point, I am going to leave.”

“Why?” Her eyes filled with tears and desperation. “I mean, I was kind of hoping you’d stay in Philly.”

Despite the sad hopefulness in her daughter’s words, Evie couldn’t lie. “I won’t be staying.”

“Will you visit, even just sometimes? Please?”

Evie hesitated only a second before replying, “I would like that very much.”

“Thank you. I love you, Mom.” Annie threw her arms around Evie in a half-woman, half-child embrace.

“I love you, too, Annalise.”

Annie pulled away and sniffed. “I think I’ll call Quinn and then I’ll go see Michael at the hospital.”

Evie raised an eyebrow. “Did I just waste my breath for the last ten minutes?”

“What? Oh!” Annie smacked her forehead and laughed. “I’ll go see Michael first, and
then
I’ll call Quinn.”

After she’d left, Evie grabbed the mailbox key and headed for the first floor. She pulled a stack of mail from the box and rifled through it as she worked her way back to the apartment. Four utility bills, three flyers, two medical journals, three magazines and a legal size envelope addressed to
Rita Sinclaire.
Evie grabbed the wall for support, fighting dizziness and a burst of nausea. She sipped three breaths of air and inched back to the apartment. Once inside, she threw the deadbolt and leaned against the door.
Calm, must remain calm
. She sipped more air and ripped open the envelope. Four typed words stared back at her. YOUR TIME IS UP.

***

Quinn found Evie in the kitchen rolling out dough. She’d been here three days, since the letter from Pete Muldaney arrived. She wore jeans and a black t-shirt, her short hair mussed, feet bare. The heart-shaped necklace dangled from her neck, swinging with each push of the rolling pin. “What are you making?” He slung his suit jacket over a chair and eyed the bowl of sugared apples on the counter.

“Apple pie.”

He popped a piece of apple in his mouth. “I haven’t had homemade apple pie in”—he tried to remember the last time he’d had it—”a long time.”

“I remembered it was one of your favorites.”

Rupe’s favorite, too. “Where’s Danielle?”

“Sleeping.” She placed the dough in the glass pie plate and began crimping the ends. “She said she didn’t feel well this morning and thought she’d try to rest.”

“Good.” He hated to admit it, but he liked coming home to Danielle and he liked her in his bed at night. He’d slept better these past five nights than he had in years. “Maybe I’ll just go check on her.”

“Quinn?” Her fingers stilled and she met his gaze. “I know it’s none of my business, but you do care for her as more than just, well a way to pass time?”

He centered his attention on the heaping bowl of sugar-cinnamon apples. “She’s not just a way to pass time.”

“I didn’t think so. I’m certainly the last to offer advice, but I think there are some things you two need to discuss.”

“Is there something I should know?”

“Not necessarily. It’s just that couples need to get everything out in the open in the beginning, before there’s too much misunderstanding and they can’t go back.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

She re-worked an edge of pie crust and took so long to answer, he thought she might not. When she did speak, there was a distant sorrow in her voice that made him wish he hadn’t asked. “Your father and I had so many expectations and dreams of what we wanted out of life, but they weren’t necessarily the same.”

“Meaning he wanted a home and family and you didn’t.” No matter how many years had passed, he could still see the empty place setting at the kitchen table.

“I loved all of you.” Her eyes grew bright. “But I couldn’t keep pretending I was someone I wasn’t.”

Quinn thought of his father sitting in the Barcolounger in the dark. Waiting. “Couldn’t you have tried?”

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. “Your father deserved more than I could give him. All of you did. If I had stayed, I would have ended up empty and resentful, and you would have seen it and hated me for it. At least, when I left you knew you were loved.” She cleared her throat. “You were never supposed to find the notebooks.”

“But I did.”
And I haven’t been the same since.

She sighed. “That I regret most of all. I would have destroyed them had I known I wasn’t coming back, but I didn’t know. If you believe nothing else, please believe when I left for the grocery store that day, I intended to come home. There was no grand plan to escape. I did that at night with the oils and the writing. I planned to continue cooking and cleaning and baking, living the same life I’d led since I married your father. I
never
intended to carry it any further than that.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done and I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned his back on her, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.

“But don’t you see, Quinn, we have to or you’re never going to be able to let yourself care about anyone.”

“You’ve been talking to Annie, haven’t you?” He flipped the beer tab and took a long drink.

“She’s mentioned some things.”

“Just because I’m not looking for someone to play house with doesn’t mean I’m not happy. I like my life just the way it is.”

“And Danielle? How does she fit into your plans? I don’t think she’s going to let you turn her into one of your play things.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Oh?”

He was not going to stand here and listen to a relationship lecture from his mother. “I’ve got work to do. I’ll be in my study. Let Danielle know where I am when she wakes up.” He needed distance right now, from all of them. Quinn grabbed his beer and headed for the study, cursing his mother for interfering when she had no right to say anything.

He’d lined his study with wide-spined law volumes, motivational how to’s, and the works of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Dreiser. This room provided a safe haven from a world that made too many demands and right now it guarded him from a mother who had
no right at all.
He flipped on a CD, grabbed
An American Tragedy
and settled in his chair. In minutes, he was caught up in the story, thankful that fiction could still create a more warped existence than reality.

Chapter 18

“So, am I going to have to pry the truth out of Danielle or are you going to tell me what’s going on between you two?” Annie leaned over the table and said, “Come on, please tell me.”

When she scrunched up her nose and used that tone of voice, she reminded Quinn of when she was ten and wanted him to do something for her. Usually something he didn’t want to do. Like now. She sipped her root beer and waited. He’d invited her to lunch at
Bessy’s Flying Pig
because she loved pulled pork but never ate it since Michael was allergic to it. Now he half wished he hadn’t been such a thoughtful brother.

“Quinn? I’m your sister, you should tell me.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Danielle’s the first real woman you’ve dated. Even Michael says so.”

“Who said we were dating?”
Were
they dating? Or just sleeping together?

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid you know. I see the way you two look at each other. Besides, I have it on good authority that you haven’t been out with any of your usual standbys since Danielle came into the picture.”

“Who told you that?”

She slid him a sly smile. “Someone who knows.”

“Annie—”

“Okay, okay. Arianna told me.”

“She doesn’t know everything.”
Damn close though
.