Page 8 of A Me and You Thing
“You’re right. I still got it.” He takes his keys out of his pocket and throws them in the air. He misses and they land on the hardwood floor, making a ringing noise echo in the house.
“I take it back,” I tell him as the girls clap their hands, thinking he just did something amazing.
I love his huge smile as he laughs at himself. His ear to ear smile is my favorite thing in the world. “I’m going before your opinion of me changes forever. Bye, Quinn. Love ya.”
I watch through the kitchen window as he walks down our front pathway, a slight swagger in his step. He’s still got it. Most definitely. Domesticity hasn’t taken away his allure. He climbs into his Jeep that’s sitting curbside. After a wave in my direction, he takes off. I watch until he turns the corner. It’s seven-thirty in the morning and it’s already been a great day.
I turn and face my two little girls. “What shall we do today, girls? Puzzles? Blocks? Books? Play ball? How about a walk in the stroller? The possibilities are endless.”
I hear a string of “Mamamamamama”in return.
Best sound in the world.
Chapter Three
Quinn
“BREANNA KINGSTON, WHAT is a Portlander doing here in the lovely seaside town of Newport at three in the afternoon on a business day? Shouldn’t you be at work climbing up the corporate ladder?”
Bree is a knock-out. When working, she’s always dressed to the nines in business attire. She has the most beautiful, silky, auburn hair, usually worn in a perfectly coifed low bun. Very professional. I personally love when she wears it down, like today. Her blue eyes are set wide on her face, and even though she’s technically a redhead, her skin is like porcelain with not a freckle in sight.
“Quinn Denali, if you didn’t have the cutest little girls in the world, I wouldn’t be distracted all the time. By the way, what smells so good?”
Speaking of distractions, that was Bree’ssquirrelmoment. “A pot roast in the slow cooker.”
“You’re a disgustingly good cook, Quinn. I might have to stay for dinner.”
Bree’s signature bluntness is her specialty. I’ve heard it said that blunt people make the best of friends and I’d have to agree. I always know where I stand.
“You’re welcome to stay. You’re always welcome here, you know that. You don’t need an invite. The door’s always open.”
“Don’t tempt me. I’ll hide out here forever.”
I grab her hand. “Get in here. It’s great to see you. I’ve missed you.” We give each other a long hug.
As we part, she studies me with a knowing eye. “How’s my best friend holding up? Are you ready to run down the street naked while screaminghelp meyet? Because if you are, I’m gonna video it and put it on YouTube. That’s a promise.”
Bree always make me laugh. Most people don’t get her unique humor. It’s my favorite thing about her.
“I’m not quite to that point. But if one more Cheerio gets stuck in my hair, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities.” I grimace. “Not sure why I would be naked, though. That part will never happen.”
“There go all my YouTube views.” Bree laughs, but I notice it’s slightly forced.
Why the random visit? It’s about a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Portland—not something she usually does on a whim. Normally, she calls first.
She hands me a small bag filled with store-bought toys still in their packages. “For the girls.”
“You spoil them.” Although I love her obsession with my babies.
“I’m allowed. You are not. You have to be all boring and responsible and make sure they don’t turn into bad seeds. I don’t need to concern myself with such matters.”
I shake my head at the typical Bree comment.
Bree glances around the living room and up the stairs. “Why is it so quiet in here? It’s like a mausoleum.”
“Isn’t it amazing? I want to drop pins and enjoy the sound. My littles decided to actually take their naps at the same time today. It’s always been the plan; it just wasn’ttheirplan.”
“It wasn’t my plan to show up on your doorstep.”
