“Of course not,” she said. “I’ve got ice cubes in it.”
He sighed. “You know you got Quinn toasted with that stuff.”
This gave his mom a big laugh. “I like her.”
“You like everyone.”
“I like her,” she repeated. “For you.”
“Again,” he said with a small laugh, “you like everyone for me.”
“I do not.”
“Really? Because in the not so distant past you’ve tried to set me up with your mail carrier, a perfect stranger at the gas station, and let’s not forget my ex.”
“In my defense, the woman getting gas had a nice smile. You could’ve done worse for yourself.”
Mick tossed up his hands. “I give up.”
“You deserve a good woman,” she said. “And since you’ve been in no hurry to find your own, I stepped up to help you. It’s what a good mom does.”
Mick snorted.
“And anyway, I backed off as soon as I realized you’d found someone on your own.”
“Quinn is not mine.”
“Why not?” she asked. “She makes you smile. She also makes you laugh. And she keeps you coming back to Wildstone—and don’t think that didn’t hurt at first, since I couldn’t manage that feat myself, but I’ve made my peace with it. And I love her for it.”
He could see the look in her eyes, the I’m-wanting-grandchildren look, and he shook his head at her. “I like her too, Mom, but that’s not what this is between us. I’m pretty sure she’s out of here as soon as Tilly’s out of school.”
“Nonsense. That girl was made for this town. She’s sweet and kind and caring, and better yet, she’s smart as hell and fiercely protective of those she loves.”
“And how do you know all of that?” Mick said, amused in spite of himself.
“Because she’s here in Wildstone, isn’t she? Out of her element and away from her world, which might as well be on a different planet, all to take care of a sister she didn’t even know she had and certainly has no obligation to. How many people do you know who’d do that?”
“We’re changing the subject now,” he said.
“Fine.” Hand on Coop’s big head, she looked around. “So what are you doing out here? After you had your worker bees sneak in here last week when I was out getting my hair done, I thought the work was finished. You got rid of all my things.”
“Not your things, Mom. Just the crap.”
“I know,” she said. “They took it to the thrift shop on Fourth.”
He gave her a long look. “And how do you know that?”
“Because Sally, who’s worked there for forty years, called to tell me.”
“Mom.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Tell me you didn’t go buy your crap back.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you. Just don’t look in the shed,” was her parting shot as she left.
“Shit.” He shoved his fingers in his hair and turned in a slow circle.
“Looking a little crazy today.”
He turned back to the door and found Boomer standing there, looking unsure of his welcome. “Crazy doesn’t begin to cover it.”
Coop, who’d used up his store of energy on Mick’s mom, didn’t get up to greet Boomer. He just thumped his tail on the dusty garage floor a few times.
“We going to fight again?” Mick asked curiously.
“We could.” Boomer came closer, revealing the faint markings of a black eye. “But I gotta warn you,” he said. “I just drank a protein shake so I’ve got an unfair advantage.”
Mick laughed.
Boomer smiled ruefully and bent to love up on Coop. “Don’t get too full of yourself. I bruise like a peach.”
Mick rubbed his still-aching jaw. “If it helps, your right hook’s stronger than it used to be.”
Boomer snorted and then sobered as he rose back to his feet. “Look, man, I’ve fucked some things up. Lots of things.”
Mick’s smile faded. The last time Boomer had started a conversation in this way, he’d just come off a three-day bender, during which time he’d trashed his car, his relationships, and his entire life. He’d ended up in rehab. “You’re not just talking about you and me,” Mick said.
“No.”
“Or Lena.”
“No.”
Mick met his gaze. “Tell me.”
Boomer turned to the garage wall with the white outlines. “I’m surprised after all this time you still haven’t painted over those.”
Mick took a good look at them, realizing that his original perspective was changing. His dad had done his best to be efficient. It hadn’t been a personal attack on Mick. Hell, in his job, Mick was all about efficiency and expediency, so he should get it. “I’d planned on painting over them.”
“But . . .?” Boomer asked.
But . . . he was experiencing some surprising revelations about his dad and everything he thought he knew about his childhood. His dad had been far from perfect, but the man had truly believed he’d been doing his job as a father.
Unlike Tom, who’d purposely, almost happily, screwed up his only son, leaving Boomer tumbling in the wind.
Boomer looked amused. “You want to leave the outlines?”
“I want to not resent them,” Mick corrected.
Boomer laughed ruefully. “We’re both fucked up in a big way. Good thing we don’t have kids. Neither of us knows shit about being a good dad.”
“Maybe we’ll do better,” Mick said.
“Are you seriously telling me you want kids after all we went through?”
Mick shrugged. The truth was, he’d never given it much serious thought until recently.
Very recently.
Such as last night while holding a sleepy, practically purring Quinn in his arms, thinking he’d be happy doing so every single night for the rest of his life.
“Look at you,” Boomer said. “Growing up.” His smile faded. “I guess it’s time for both of us to do so. I’m going to rehab, Mick.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to be gone for ninety days and I want to know if when I get back we could start over.”
“No,” Mick said.
Boomer’s smile dropped.
“There’s no need to start over,” Mick said. “Because we’re still friends.”
Chapter 31
Potato chips always remind me that there are good things in this world.
—from “The Mixed-Up Files of Tilly Adams’s Journal”
Quinn was in the café kitchen, trying not to pay attention to how heavy her heart felt about Mick letting her walk away.
You’re either in or out with someone . . .
She had a pit in her gut. Because why couldn’t she just tell him? Why couldn’t she just say I’m in, like all the way in? Why did she have to push him away?
Feeling sick about her seeming inability to follow her heart, she looked out the window.
Lena pulled up and headed toward the chicken coop. Quinn called out, “Hey, grab us some too, would you?”
Lena shrugged like the motion required almost too much energy. Quinn watched her and told herself not to do it. Don’t interfere. Don’t ask her what’s wrong.
But she called Greta in to take over and went out back. “You okay?” Quinn asked.
“Sure,” Lena said.
Quinn had her hands on her hips. “Okay, now you’re scaring me. No sassy comebacks. No sarcasm. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”