Page 104 of Through Quick and Quinn
That night, all three of us were in the kitchen preparing dinner. My dad was on burger duty, my mom was making scalloped potatoes, and I was whipping up a salad with the fresh ingredients that I picked out with my mom earlier.
“Hey, whatever happened with your garden, Deck?” my dad asked as he swiped a piece of celery and popped it into his mouth. I was about to remind him that it was winter, but my mom’s hysteria filled the entire room.
“You had a garden? Where?” She immediately ran to the sliding glass door and took a full, frantic tour of the backyard. By the time she made her way back inside, my dad and I were doubled over in laughter. Her reaction was too much. I caught my breath and looked up at Dad, only to see that I got the knee-slapping thing from him, which made me crack up even more.
I finally settled down enough to tell my mom about the garden, albeit a pathetic one, that Quinn and I shared the year prior. The Porch Garden. I couldn’t help the pride from oozing through my words when thinking of it with such fondness. I loved spending that quality time with Quinn, hanging out in the shade and eating not-yet-ready radishes and pale green onions, just because we could. That was the best. I smiled just thinking about it, and my heart tugged a bit. I wanted to call her real quick to tell her I loved her and hear her voice, but my mom was heavily invested in the conversation at hand.
“So what do you think?” My mom nudged me with her arm. “Good idea?”
After realizing that I must have tuned out for a second, I apologized and asked her to repeat her idea. She was hoping Quinn and I would consider having a garden in our backyard this year, in addition to the Porch Garden. She mentioned how we could grow different things: potted edibles at Quinn’s place and other vegetables at our place. She made sure to repeat herself plenty about how she wasn’t trying to take anything away from Quinn and that she wasn’t trying to control what we do; she just really wanted to share in the experience. It was sweet.
“I will absolutely talk to Quinn, Mom. That sounds like a great idea. Honestly, we hadn’t even talked about doing a garden again, but I know she’ll be all over it.”
“Hooray! Okay, well, talk to her soon. We only have about a month to prepare and then we’ll have to start planting! It’s almost the season,” she said as she skipped back over towards the potatoes.
“Seriously? It’s only January, Mom. Last year we didn’t even start until the summer.” As soon as I said it, I understood.
“Yeah, and how’d that work out for you? Super great harvests?” My mom’s comment was dripping with sarcasm.
Fair point.
After dinner, I headed upstairs to FaceTime with Quinn. It was crazy how I never got tired of seeing her face. If anything, I didn’t get to see it enough. I watched her drink some herbal tea concoction she made, I listened as she told me about the latest book she was reading on ascension, and I told her I was honored when she walked our video chat outside so I could see her latest rock design in Troy’s Zen garden. She had created two intertwined hearts as an apology to her mom for the argument over Seek & Speak. The fact that Quinn was so full of goodness, and hands down the most fascinating person I could ever hope to meet, was a thought that was ever-present in my mind. I was in awe of her, and the feeling of fortune to be loved by her was indescribable.
As always, she was interested to know every detail about my day. At first it was hard to tell what part she appreciated the most—my mom’s surprise visit at work or the fact that my folks and I all cooked dinner together. Or my dad and I cracking up over my mom running to the backyard to find an invisible garden. Quinn was enraptured with each new anecdote I shared. Once I told her about my mom’s idea for a second garden, though, it was clear that that was her favorite part of my day.
“Oh my gosh, Quick, that would be amazing! I would love to have a real garden in your backyard and have your mom share in it with us! What an awesome bonding experience that would be, Quick. Plus, it sounds like she knows more than we do, not that that’s hard to do because we don’t really know much about planting, right? But if she is talking about prepping a garden and all that? I wouldn’t even know where to begin! Oh my gosh, this is going to be so fun! Plus, it’ll be better at your place anyway since I’ll be leaving at the end of summer—” And with that, her gleeful monologue ended abruptly and was met with absolute silence on both ends of the conversation.
We sat there staring at each other through our tiny screens. It was a somber moment, but it was also filled with pride and excitement. Such a conflicting feeling, to want someone to go but desperately want her to stay. I knew she was thinking the same thing, but I was intent on her sensing my support for her decision to go to Florida. The last thing I wanted was for her to stay because of some sort of unnecessary obligation or feeling of guilt. So I gave her the most dazzling smile I could muster and said, “Yep, you’re right. It makes sense to have the garden here. Sounds good. I’ll tell my mom. She’s probably going to wake up the neighborhood with all her hooting and hollering.” Ice broken. Quinn laughed and I could see the appreciation in her eyes. “I love you, Quinn. You are going to kick butt in Florida, and the garden and I will be right here when you get back. All good.”
“Aw, Quick. I love you, too, but—”
“But what?” I was a little nervous she was going to end this thing, whatever we were, before it even started.
“But you don’t have to promise that you’ll be here waiting for me when I get back. That’s a lot to ask. You’re going to be living your life, too, as you should. Right?” Her comment sounded as though she was already feeling the guilt that I was hoping she wouldn’t.
“Right. Listen. I gotta go.” I blew her a kiss and hung up. Not my kindest moment, but it stemmed from the sudden urge to see her. I ran downstairs, shouted to my folks that I’d be back in an hour, and I drove straight to Quinn’s house. I texted her when I got there and I assumed she ran downstairs to greet me because she was out of breath. She sprinted towards me as I was walking up the driveway and jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist and burying her head in my neck.
“I’m sorry I hung up like that. I just couldn’t get here fast enough.” I whispered. “I had to see you.”
“I’m so glad you did, Quick. I love you so much. And I’m clueless about what next year will bring. I’m hoping I won’t lose you, that our friendship can withstand this. I know it can, but this new stuff with us, I don’t know. But we have to do this. Right? I want so much to do my thing in Florida and I am thrilled out of my mind for you and your journey, and as much as I am going to miss you, we still have to do this, right?” Her eyes searched mine, and for once, mine were the peaceful ones.
“Yes, Quinn. We have to do this. You are the one who taught me to slow down, to breathe, to have faith. It’s going to be a huge change for both of us and on so many levels, but you know better than anyone that change is something we should welcome. It’s when we grow, right?” I wiped her tears with my thumb and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Yeah, I know. You’re right. I am excited, Quick, and I know I’ll embrace the change when it comes. I just, I can’t imagine doing life without you. I literally can’t.”
I placed my forehead to hers, a gesture that had come to symbolize our affection for one another. “I can’t either, Quinn. I feel sick when I think about it. But we’ll take it as it comes, right? One day at a time. One step at a time. We’ll figure it out.”
We let the quiet moment soothe us a bit, and then she softly asked, “Do you think absence makes the heart grow fonder? Or out of sight, out of mind?” She ran her fingers through my hair before placing her head on my chest and pulling me in for a hug.
“You will never be out of mind, Quinn. Never. You are my very best friend. And I’ll support you no matter what you decide to do in life. Even if you run off to Spain and fall in love with some dude named Pepe, I’ll support you. All I want is for you to be happy. And right now, you being happy means you chasing your dreams. As you should. I’m proud of you.” I meant every single word I said, and she knew it.
She held my cheeks as she kissed me. “I’m proud of you, too. And I want you to be happy, too. But, for the record, I would never run off to Spain. France, maybe…”
Ice broken.
***
Quick / 9:19 p.m.
