Page 58 of Any Girl But You
Did we? No, not really? But something was definitely, definitely off. The energy of the entire evening was gloomy, and the fact that she didn’t wake me up this morning shows that there’s clearly an unresolved issue. “No. I don’t know. I mean, nothing big or dramatic or anything.”
Whispers and shuffling sound in the background. I hear Frankie tell Morgan what I’ve just said to her. “Okay, Morgan said the cell service is spotty right now, and unless Quinn’s on Wi-Fi, she probably won’t get messages or calls. So, let’s just give it a bit. If you don’t hear from her in an hour, let me know, and Morgan and I will head out to the farm and see if she’s just busy with cleanup or something.”
My shoulders relax. I thank her and get back to work but am distracted. Thankfully, Luna is handling ringing up thecustomers, so I don’t have to fake a smile, and I’m in the kitchen packaging. The minutes that should be rushing by are slogging.
Something is wrong. I can feel it. I pause packaging and pull up the Department of Transportation website and scour for anything on accidents. I check the news, social media, and our community website, and nothing. No reports of any accidents. But this feeling is not going away. What if Quinn is in a ditch? What if she hit her head and is trapped in a car and will freeze to death? Everything in me claws at my skin. Should I call the sheriff? Have him do some sort of welfare check? Is that unreasonable? My face turns hot, and a ring starts in my ears. I can feel this to the deepest part of my bones. Something is very, very wrong.
Another five minutes pass, and I can’t take it. I text my mom to see if I can borrow her Jeep. The road conditions might be terrible out in the country and I’m taking no chances with my little sedan. How am I going to figure out a time to go out there with hundreds of people coming into my shop today? Maybe my mom can help package while I do a safety check.
I package up an order when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I nearly drop the box to grab it, and my heart leaps into my throat at Quinn’s name splashed across my screen.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” I ask when I answer.
“Zoey…” Quinn’s shaky voice sounds through the receiver. Raw, gut-wrenching sobs boom through the phone, and my heart breaks at the noise. Her breathing is quick and choppy, and I freeze, waiting for her to speak. “Everything is destroyed.”
THIRTY
QUINN
I’m crumbled into the corner of the barn, my teeth rattling, partly from the chill, and partly from the crying. My jacket is snug around my body, my knees are against my chest, and I’m sobbing into my hands.
When I pulled up here this morning, and saw what happened, I simply dropped to my knees in the snow. Two windows busted out, glass everywhere, the display case blown to bits. Mason jars with the firefly lights tipped over, some broken, some cracked. Ornaments shattered against the floor. The Santa photo op station ripped to shreds. Snowflake bulbs broken, the artificial trees tipped over with shattered lights. Everything…ruined.
“Quinn, what happened?” Zoey repeats.
I sniff hard and try to breathe out the cries. I thought I had cried it all out, but apparently, I hadn’t. The second Zoey answered, it rushed forward. When I woke up this morning, I was so restless, and the sky was eerily calm. Like the blizzard had torn through the town, ravished the streets, then came to a dead stop. Zoey was so peaceful tucked in the bed, and I couldn’t sleep. So, I’d slithered out of there and took off for the farm.
I probably could’ve left a note, but I thought I’d text her on the way. I tried and it wouldn’t connect, then called, and it wouldn’t connect. The roads were all clear in town, but the moment I took a turn outside of the city limits, I dropped the phone and concentrated on not getting in an accident.
Each downed tree, dead branch, and heavy snowbank I passed kicked my anxiety sky-high. It took nearly two hours to make the twenty-five-minute drive. I couldn’t even get the truck onto my property. I had to park on the side of the road and hike the rest of the way.
“Quinn,” Zoey says again, softly. “What happened?”
A choked sob releases. “Two of the windows broke and glass is everywhere and everything is broken…and it’s all…over. I can’t open my store. It’s all ruined.” Another guttural sound releases and I bury my head in my hands. I can’t believe this happened. My dream, my livelihood, everything is destroyed. Gone, in a snap.
Zoey’s saying something on the other end, but I can barely make it out. Finally, I pull in some calming breaths and rest my head against the wall.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn. I can’t believe this happened,” Zoey says. “Why don’t you come back to my place, rest for a bit, and we’ll figure something out.”
I almost want to laugh. There is nothing to figure out. Opening day is less than forty-eight hours away. The day after Thanksgiving is the busiest day of the year for Christmas-tree farmers. Black Friday is not just for retail stores. If I miss out on this, I’m missing out on half my business for the year.The year. My head pounds with a headache and I push my thumbs into my temples.
“Quinn. Can you hear me? Come back home, okay? I promise we’ll figure this out.”
I sigh and swipe my hand under my chin to catch the tear dribbles. “The roads are so bad. In town they’re great, but out here they haven’t cleared them yet.”
“Then I’m coming to you,” Zoey says.
“Absolutely not,” I snap. “It was stupid enough to put myself in danger like this, but there’s no chance in hell I’m putting you in any danger. If the roads don’t clear out by tonight, I’ll just sleep here. But please, promise me you won’t.”
Silence meets me.
“Zoey.Promise me.” I stiffen against the wall. Right now is not the time for Zoey to try any heroic shit. Now is the time for me to wallow in my grief and watch my dreams sink.
“Fine,” she finally says, and my body relaxes. “But you are a planner and an organizer. Make a plan.”
“I can’t! I have one day.One. It’s impossible. Even if I could fix the windows, the products are destroyed.” I loosen my scarf and stare at my broken store. No matter how hard or fast I work, I can’t get this place back in order. A cry locks in my throat, but I breathe it out.
“Please don’t lose hope,” Zoey says, her voice cracking.
