his shoulders. “They said I can try running a few miles tomorrow if I’m up to it.” Harold releases a phlegm-filled laugh before settling himself down. “Tell me, did the water shipment arrive today?”
“Yes, sir. I have everything settled.” I offer a smile, hoping to ease his worry about the shop. It’s the last thing he should be concerned about right now, but I can understand him trying to keep his focus on something other than his illness.
“Thank you, son.”
Son.
Maybe that’s his subtle reminder to stop calling him sir. “If these two give you any trouble, you need to let me know, okay?”
Oh, boy. They might as well just throw me out of the room. Both of the girls are going to have daggers out for me if Harold doesn’t stop talking to me this way. I can sense the fury they aren’t doing a great job at hiding.
“Oh, we’ll all be just fine.” I take the opportunity to glance over at Melody, catching her gaze. “Right?”
She chokes and clears her throat before sitting up straighter in her chair. “Yeah, everything is under control,” she says, sounding as if she’s questioning me, or maybe Harold.
“Thanks for bringing us food,” Journey says.
“Yes, thank you,” Mrs. Quinn follows.
They both sound sincere, easing my concern that Journey might hate me too. “Of course. Is there anything else I can do to help you guys out right now?” I’m sure this is the time where they say thank you for offering but there’s not much else I can do for them. I can move it along and leave them to their privacy. God, I haven’t been this uncomfortable in a long while.
“Where’s your daughter?” Melody speaks up. Her question surprises me, not so much because of the context, but because it sounds accusatory, like I left Parker on the side of the road somewhere so I could bring them dinner.
“You have a daughter?” Mrs. Quinn questions.
There’s no way Mom didn’t tell her about Parker. My mom can’t keep much to herself, let alone the mention of a grandchild.
“I told you about this incredible guy right here,” Harold follows. I guess he knows. Maybe Mom and Mrs. Quinn haven’t spoken as much as I thought they might have over the years. That’s too bad. They used to talk daily.
“Yes, ma’am. She’s seven, but my mom is probably feeding her millions of cookies as we speak, so she’s perfectly fine. I just won’t get her to fall asleep tonight, but help is help, right?”
Mrs. Quinn looks partially enamored by what I’m saying and somewhat confused at the same time. I feel very out of place, as if ten years have definitely passed without a fleeting thought of each other.
Mrs. Quinn shakes off her longing stare at me and follows my brief explanation of Parker with a change of topic, which is definitely welcomed at the moment. “One of us needs to go home and let the dog out,” she says, looking back and forth between Journey and Melody. Mrs. Quinn’s mind must be in a million places. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.
“I’ll go,” Melody offers.
“I can go let the dog out if you’d like. It’s no problem,” I say. I’m sure Melody would rather stay here with Harold as long as she can tonight. If I recall, their house is on the way home for me anyway, and it’s no trouble.
“You are too sweet,” Mrs. Quinn replies, sounding as if she might take me up on the offer.
“That’s okay, I can rush home and take care of him,” Melody speaks up a little louder than last time.
“He’s offering,” Mrs. Quinn argues with her daughter.
“He’s already doing enough,” Melody mutters and stands from her seat.
The tension in this room is almost unbearable.
“Brett, don’t forget to bottle up the Quinn Pine next week,” Harold says as if he hasn’t reminded me a dozen times in the past day. By the groggy look on his face, I might assume he’s forgotten the other reminders.
“I would never forget something so important,” I say to Harold, stepping toward him to say goodbye.
“I’m running home to let Benji out. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Melody spouts off. She swoops over to Harold’s side and kisses his cheek before nearly knocking me over while rushing by.
“Do you need a car, maybe?” Journey asks Melody.
Melody’s cheeks burn her signature hue of rose petal red. “Yeah, uh—” Journey tosses a set of car keys over to Melody. “Thanks.”
Melody is gone