Page 60 of Just My Ex

He glances from Quinn to Oakley and then back to Quinn, his lower jaw grating. Finally, he gives a brief nod, meeting my gaze for a moment. “I’ll try.”

Chapter 23

Quinn

Henry has a work meeting on video call the next morning, so when Navie and I wake up and get ready for the day, I’m the one to make us breakfast.

Oatmeal with nuts and berries sounds good.

My mom calls right as Navie and I are finishing our bowls.

“Any signs of Raymond or other unhinged family members?” she asks.

“I’m on speaker, Mom. Say hi to Navie.”

“Oh! Hi, Bugaboo!” my mom croons.

Navie grabs the phone from me and explains all about throwing sticks in the lake with Henry and how he bought her some new Hot Wheels.

Once she scrambles down from the table, most of her oatmeal either in her belly or on her face, I take it off speaker, and Mom asks me about my injuries.

“I’m healing fine,” I tell her. “The wounds only hurt when I’m in the shower.”

“Good to hear. And it sounds like Henry’s stepping up,” Mom says.

“He is.” I hesitate. “He’s so much more engaged than he used to be, Mom. He can make Navie laugh like no one else, but he doesn’t let her sass him, either.” I wedge the phone in between my ear and my good shoulder, put the bowls in the sink and scrub them with a soapy sponge. “It’s been … good.”

“Do you get the sense that he’s going to stay in better touch when everything goes back to normal?” she asks.

Normal. Normal feels suddenly abnormal compared to this time with him here in Longdale.

“He was already reaching out to Navie every day before—ever since he came to visit after I got back from Longdale the first time. I’m dreading having to tell Navie he’s not going to be coming home with us.”

Mom breathes out a long whoosh of air. “She’s going to have a hard time with that, isn’t she?"

I attempt to swallow down the lump in my throat, but it’s not giving up without a fight. “Of course she is. How are you?”

“It’s fine to be living away from home, but I’m anxious to get back once the money’s officially yours and it’s safe to return home. Oh, and work’s giving me a bonus for getting the most positive feedback cards from patients,” she says, her voice brightening. “And I stopped and got your mail that was piling up. There’s a letter from your lawyer, looks like.”

“Is my house okay? Raymond hasn’t done anything to it lately, has he?”

“Not that I noticed,” she says. “Do you want me to forward this thing from the estate lawyer?”

“Will you open it and read it to me, please?”

She does and it’s paperwork confirming the date with the judge.

“Do you have to be around for that?” she asks.

“No. It’s just a formality. Any indication that the family’s going to press the issue with the court anymore? Any word on Raymond’s contesting of the will?”

“I haven’t heard. I haven’t been in touch with anyone, Quinn.”

“I still hope we can wait this out,” I say with a laugh.

The doorbell rings and of course, my mind goes to Raymond. “I gotta go, Mom. Someone’s here.”

“We’ll chat later. And go visit Henry’s parents,” she insists. “His poor mother’s health isn’t good.”

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