Hope on the Rocks (Rainbow Cove)

“Yeah.” My throat was so tight it was a wonder the words squeaked out at all. “I owe you so much.”

“You think it doesn’t go both ways?” She made a dismissive noise. I didn’t think it was that easy or that simple, but maybe I could work on letting go of guilt and instead celebrating my luck at landing such a good mom. It was possible that the debt that I’d carried around for years now had never truly existed. Like Quinn said, I was worthy of my own life, and Mom did seem to agree. “I never could have made this business even half as successful without you and Ramona, you especially. The only thing you owe me is to try to be happy.”

“I am. Quinn makes me happy, Mom.” He made me so much more than happy, but I wasn’t going to say the words to her before I managed to tell Quinn. I almost had the night before, but making up had been too new and fresh. When I finally told him, I wanted him to believe me.

“I’m glad.” Her eyes took on a misty cast.

“And I know you’re frustrated about him not sharing Ramona’s news.”

“That wasn’t very charitable of me. I need to let that go. He had professional obligations and personal ones too.” Sighing, she grabbed a plastic bag from a box on the table and plucked a muffin from the basket. “Here. Take him something for later. Tell him no hard feelings.”

“I will.” I exhaled right along with her, one less thing to worry about.

“And you might want a look at this.” She handed me a stack of computer printouts, pages rumpled and covered in pen circles and handwritten notes.

“What’s this?”

“A list of possible new properties. Fixer-uppers mainly. Things that aren’t on the market quite yet but that my realtor friend expects to come on the market in the fall after the seasonal rush dies down.”

“And you want my opinion?” Despite her ready agreement about hiring someone, I braced myself for another favor.

“Well, if you have thoughts, I’d welcome them, but I’m not trying to make more work for you. I thought maybe you might be interested for your own purposes. Moving on and all that. Find a place to put your antique liquor ads and trophy heads.”

“Oh.” This was her realizing that I couldn’t keep surfing from rental to rental for her indefinitely. My heart hammered, chest too tight to contain all my rising emotions, so I had to make myself laugh. “No way is Quinn putting up with trophy heads.”

“It’s like that, huh?” She gave me a knowing look, but she didn’t seem all that put out.

“Yeah. I’m serious about him. And I think it goes both ways.” I hoped, at least. He might be scared, but he’d said he’d trust me, and all I could do was hope I never let him down. “We want to make this work.”

“I hope you do. I’ll be rooting for you.” Smile all tender, she reached over for a one-armed hug.

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“You happy means more.” She kissed my forehead before straightening and adopting a more business-like tone. We weren’t that different, she and I. Big hearts, but getting sappy took a lot out of us. “Now, Ramona and Darren are coming for dinner tomorrow. If you’re taking more time off, maybe you want to come too? Quinn is welcome.”

“Thanks. I’ll see.” I’d meant what I’d told Quinn about him coming first. I wasn’t going to clear my schedule only to let others fill it. I liked the idea of stopping by, but I also needed the night to be ours, establish some new habits. But I softened my hesitation by kissing her cheek. “Love you.”

I wasn’t ever going to stop loving her or Ramona, but there was room in my heart for more, and for the first time, admitting that didn’t feel quite so scary. I needed my own life and my own person. Quinn in this thing with me mattered, and I couldn’t wait to tell him how this conversation had gone. Wanting him to be proud of me was one more scary thing, but if Quinn was going to trust me, then I could work on doing the same.

Thirty-Seven

Quinn

“Hit me with whatever your new drink special is,” I said to Adam as I took a seat at the relatively quiet bar. The place wasn’t empty, but it was getting on past nine, and the dinner rush had mellowed into a pleasant summer night contingent lingering over drinks and dessert and giving me ample opportunity to talk to Adam.

“Uh oh.’’ His eyes narrowed. “I thought you learned your lesson about the hard stuff.”

“Make it half-strength.” I shrugged off his concern. “I’m not looking to get wasted. I want to try your new cocktail though.”