Page 30 of A Me and Him Thing
Quinn isn’t expecting me today. I’m not sure how I’ll be received. Here goes nothing.
I switch the bag I’m holding into my left hand and push the doorbell with my right.
Quinn answers the door wearing jean shorts and a white blouse, her hair in a loose side braid. She looks good. Tan, healthy, back to her normal weight. Her hair is arranged in such a way that it covers her forehead scar. It doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t take away from her delicate beauty.
After slight shock registers on her face, she composes herself quickly. “Hi, Bree,” she says slowly. “It’s good to see you. C’mon in.”
Courteous as always. That’s my Melanie.
“Thank you.” I look around the foyer of the house that still haunts my dreams. I miss it, but I’m at peace with everything. “I was hoping to see the girls and…visit with you for a bit.”
“Okay. We’re out in the backyard.”
“We?”
“The girls and I. Sawyer’s not here.”
“Is he expected anytime soon?”
“No, he’s out on a charter.”
“On a boat named…Quinn?”
She blinks slowly. “Yeah.”
“All’s right with the world again.” Oops, that sounded sarcastic. I didn’t mean it to be.
She doesn’t comment. Instead, she says, “C’mon, it’s nice outside.”
The French doors are open to the backyard and a fresh breeze is blowing through the house. Something in the kitchen smells really, really good, but I don’t mention it.
I pause in the doorway because the backyard looks like a veritable preschool. There’s a water table for the girls to play in, a sandbox filled with buckets, shovels, and sand molds of various shapes and sizes—even though the world’s best sandbox is basically a stone’s throw away. Two bright red tricycles grace the sidewalk, and the girls are standing in front of two easels, painting masterpieces with chunky paintbrushes while wearing cute little painter’s smocks. Snacks and juice sit on the patio table. It’s such a perfect picture of family life. I was never able to achieve this kind of bliss. We watched a lot of Disney movies and YouTube in order to survive the day. I have to remind myself that this is Quinn’s area of expertise. I did the best I could.
“Girls, look who’s here to see you,” Quinn says.
They look at me and smiles of recognition appear on their cute little faces. Their hair is done in the perfect French braids that Quinn is so good at doing, and they’re wearing matching shorts outfits.
“Beezy! Hi, Beezy!” Josie yells, setting down her paintbrush and running to hug me. I cringe a little at getting paint on me, but oh well, a hug is worth the dry-cleaning bill.
“Beezy, I missed you!” Jordyn runs to hug me too.
No tears. Nope. Not going to let them fall. “I missed you too, girls. You’ve grown up so much.”
“We’re big girls now,” Jordyn informs me.
Josie chimes in, “Not babies. We go potty on the toilet.”
“What? Wow, I’m so proud of you.” I squat down to their level. “I brought you each a present.”
They jump up and down with excitement. “A present? Yay!”
“Can you wash your hands first?”
Quinn pops out a few wet wipes and cleans their hands. She’s very prepared.
I admit, I splurged and bought them the most expensive ballerina Barbie dolls I could find. I knew they’d love them. I give Josie the pink one and Jordyn the purple one, sans wrapping, that is. It took me forever to get them out of the “frustration-free” packaging.
They gasp as their eyes widen. They hold the dolls gently and cradle them in their arms.
