The change was instantaneous. As soon as her father appeared, Quinn became a pale shade of herself. She said as little as possible, nodded while her father spoke, and her sweet mouth turned down at the corners. I had seen it hundreds of times before. Every time it happened, I wanted to punch Mr. Thomas in the face.
"Sienna would have known how to handle herself," Mr. Thomas told his youngest daughter. "Pull yourself together for her sake."
"Yes, Father. Can I get you anything?" Quinn asked.
"No, but maybe Owen here can explain why my wife is so upset," Mr. Thomas turned on me.
It seemed obvious, so I said nothing. The silence infuriated him, and I saw Quinn shrink back. Finally, I relented. "She never approved of me and Sienna. I think maybe I should go."
Behind her father's ramrod straight back, Quinn caught my eye and shook her head. She looked so sad, as if I was abandoning her. I imagined the limousine ride to the cemetery. Her parents could not go five minutes on a regular day without comparing her to Sienna. What would they say to her on the drive?
I held out my hand to shake Mr. Thomas's in farewell. He ignored it and walked away.
"Are you really going?" Quinn asked. "At least grab a sandwich or something first."
I should have left, but I followed her to the kitchen. The quiet caterers moved easily around Quinn. Their manager came right over. "You want a plate, Ms. Thomas?"
"Yes, please. Two. Whatever you've got," she said. She was anxious to retreat again. Her eyes kept scanning the doorways.
"We're so sorry for your loss, Ms. Thomas," the manager said. "It sounds like your sister was an amazing person and you were following in her footsteps. Your parents are lucky to have you."
Quinn gave me a painful look. She had been surviving comparisons to Sienna all her life, but today everything was compounded. "Let's hope I don't go too far," Quinn said.
The nearest server fumbled a handful of silverware.
"How about a little something from the bar, as well?" I said. I took Quinn's arm and steered her back towards the basement.
"Quinn, what on earth are you doing with him?" Mrs. Thomas hissed from the doorway.
"You mean Owen?" Quinn spun to face her mother, the color bright on her cheeks. "Trying to get through this awful day, same as you."
"Well, he can't be helping," her mother said.
"How can you say that? Don't you remember how many times Owen came to Thanksgiving? Nine. He made the stuffing and the gravy at four," Quinn said. "And remember who did all the touch-ups when you fired the painters? These walls would be splotchy if he had not taken a whole day to fix them for you."
"It's okay, Quinn. I should go," I said.
"No. How can they forget that you're my friend?" she asked. "You didn't like him dating Sienna, but you had no problem with him driving me to Los Angeles. It wasn't an issue when you scheduled a cruise during Sienna's cheerleading camp week and Owen had to stay here so I wouldn't be alone."
"Really, Quinn, you are just being silly. I'm sure it’s the stress of all this, but you should stop before you make a fool of yourself," Mrs. Thomas said.
"A fool of myself?" Quinn asked. "I'm not hunting around for someone to blame."
Mrs. Thomas gripped her narrow waist until her knuckles turned white. "He certainly did not help Sienna, did he? You don't think she realized how close you two were? You don't think we all knew about your 'friendship’?"
"Sienna was happy I was spending time with Quinn," I said. "She knew we like the same things."
"Childish things, little kid games," Mrs. Thomas spat. "Well, at least you realized Sienna was too good for you. I was glad when you two started drifting apart."
"You wanted him out of Sienna's life, but you expected him to be there and prevent all of this?" Quinn asked. She threw her hands up in disgust. "You don't even know what you're saying."
"No one does today. It's alright, Quinn. I'm going to leave," I said.
"I'll walk you to your car," she said.
Mrs. Thomas opened her mouth to protest, but Quinn brushed past her. I had no choice but to follow her out the front door. She moved fast, her long legs flying down the front steps. Her black high heels clicked quickly along the sidewalk and I had to hurry to catch up.
"Quinn? Are you alright?" I asked.