Page 87 of Through Quick and Quinn
Quick:
Grappled
I wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, or perhaps it was over the course of the previous year, but as I sat with my father one night on the couch, I realized that I had trained my brain to find silver linings. I found myself thinking that Mom being at the rehabilitation facility was not only good for her, but it consequently allowed for Dad and me to reconnect on our own time, at our own pace, and in our own way. He cut back his work hours, admitting that his purposeful inefficiency was the reason for the late nights all those years. I liked having him home. It was still quiet, but we made a habit of eating dinner together before watching television on most nights. There were attempts at awkward conversation, and like with all things, those conversations became easier with time.
One evening, while Dad was teaching me how to barbecue, I told him that I had forgotten how much he loved to cook. We talked a little about my job in the produce section and how even though I only worked a couple shifts a week, it opened my eyes to how awful our food choices were. I thanked him for teaching me how to prepare the night’s dinner, and he responded so despondently, commenting about the short amount of time he had left for the countless number of things a father should teach his son. He regretfully spoke of how I basically had to raise myself, that I even had to teach myself how to ride a bicycle at such a late age. Jokingly, I retorted that he could still teach me how to drive, and as the unplanned words were coming out of my mouth, I knew how desperately I wanted that. For both of us.
We both wanted it.
We made plans to discover the logistics behind a driver’s permit and the process for earning a license, and then discussed a tentative schedule for time behind the wheel with him guiding me from the passenger seat. The more we chatted about it, the more excited we both became. It led to a brainstorming of tasks I had yet to learn from my father, and I couldn’t type them up on my phone’s list app fast enough. Unclog a sink. Change the filters. Add salt to the water softener. Change a tire. Earn good credit. The list kept going and going, but each thing we added widened our smiles. As we wrapped up the evening, I tacked “barbecue” onto the list, and handed my phone to him. He checked the box, and there was no denying the prideful tear in his eye or the gratitude in his grin. Thankful for the renewed relationship. Thankful for the evening’s events. Thankful for the time together and all the times to come.
I headed upstairs and my thoughts about driving raced around the track in my head. This shared experience with Dad was going to be so good for both of us, and I instinctively grabbed my phone to tell Quinn the news. Mid-text, I tossed my phone on the bed. I wasn’t going to tell her.
I was going to surprise her.
If I did my math right, and if Dad and I hustled in the hours like we planned, I could get my driver’s license around Christmas. The thought of her face when she would see me behind the wheel for the first time… That would be enough exclamation points to last me a year.
As I thought about Quinn, my heart ached with how much I missed her. Not because I had seen her less that week, but because it never felt like enough. No matter how much time I spent with her, I always wanted more. I still struggled to identify the feelings I was having, whether it was deep admiration and appreciation for the friendship, or if it was that and more. I didn’t know. I just knew that she made me happy. Ridiculously happy. She made me feel like I could be me, but I still wanted to be better. For her. And I wanted to do the same for her, to make her happy, to fill all the voids and gaps that she had. To help her grow like she did for me.
Our friendship often times felt like it was more about me. Her helping me. Was it because most of her healing was done before we even met? We did focus more on Geoffrey, to the point where sometimes I even forgot about Troy. She was so positive and seemed to have everything together, so much so that I would fail to remember her trauma. I knew that she was still working through that trauma, that she still had hard days. Days that she would get lost in their Zen garden. Days that she needed to meditate extra. She would have those days for the rest of her life. How could she not? She literally saw her brother’s lifeless body.
My mind created an image of Quinn’s mother holding Troy and it made me feel sick to my stomach. I couldn’t think of anything worse than a baby dying. Suddenly, with no warning. Just randomly like that.
And then I remembered that nothing is random.
And then I put my shovels to work.
Two hours later, I was covered in regret, knowing that must have been exactly how Quinn felt when she dug on child trafficking. It stemmed from a place of love, of wanting to understand, wanting to empathize, wanting to help. And then the reality set in. The nausea took over. I spun out, asking myself endless, judgmental questions. What did I do? Why couldn’t I bury my head in the sand? Now what? Would I tell her? Or omit the truth, which is an act of dishonesty? How could I look her in the face, but not tell her what I learned? And if I told her, wouldn’t it make things worse? Open up old wounds and carve some new ones? Did I really want to do that?
I grappled with it until the morning, but I came to the conclusion I knew all along. I had to tell her. Just not yet. I’d find the right time, I told myself, but I knew full well that there was never going to be a right time. How was I going to tell Quinn that I thought SIDS was not nearly as accidental as it sounded?
Quinn:
The Perfect Thing
Thrilled to hear that Quick and his father were spending quality time together in the evenings, I tried to give him the space to focus on that relationship. We still texted and talked every day, and I could see that he was in a better place. As much as I missed him, our adventures, and our FaceTime sessions, I was happy for him. He needed this time with his dad, and would need it even more so once his mom came home.
Mandy caught up with me in the hallway one morning and asked if I wanted to hang out after school. I saw no reason not to, and when she suggested we go to her house, I had to contain my excitement. I hadn’t been there in ages, and with so many fond memories of the place, I thought it would make for a fun afternoon.
After raiding her refrigerator and loading up on our own sloppy version of a deconstructed charcuterie board of lunch meats, cheese, and fruit, Mandy had the idea to look at some of the old photographs she had from elementary school. We jumped to the couch and with each picture, we remembered more and more hilarious moments of our childhood. The shared memories brought us to tears, we laughed so hard, especially when we reminisced about the time we played Truth or Dare at recess and someone had to pretend he was a dog peeing on a fire hydrant right when the principal walked by. We couldn’t remember if it was Ara, Jack, or Jaden, but it didn’t make the memory any less hysterical.
Once she caught her breath, Mandy exclaimed, “I got it! We should totally play right now. Oh my gosh, okay, Quinn. Truth or dare?”
“What? We are too old for this game! What kind of dares would we even do?” The idea made me laugh even harder.
“You’re right. Just truth. Hmmmmm.” Mandy was deep in thought while I was busy wiping my tears and trying to breathe evenly again. “Quinn. Are you and Quick an item? Truth.”
“What? No. It’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is! Don’t lie, Quinn! I totally see you guys holding hands all the time. It’s super cute.” She nudged my shoulder with hers and her eyebrows did a little dance. Then she took it a step further and pursed her lips together to make kissing sounds. I couldn’t help but laugh. She looked absolutely ridiculous. “So, have you guys kissed? What’s the story with you two?”
“I told you. It’s not like that.” I could feel my face turning red. I wanted to change the subject, but Mandy was not about to drop it.
“So you haven’t? Well, do you want to? You should kiss him, Quinn! You two are totally into each other!”
There was no hiding the blush now. My entire body felt like it was sunburned. “I don’t know about that, Mandy. I don’t think it’s like that with us.”
“Yes, it is. Do you not see the way he looks at you?” She was so animated, she literally stood up to use her entire body to speak to me. “He frickin’ likes you, Quinn. Like, a lot!”
