Quinn
Lotte, and I have just returned to her apartment after a girls weekend in Nantucket. Brady was here to greet us, and now the three of us are crowded by her kitchen island, finishing off the chocolate cake we picked up at a cute little bakery for Troye’s moms. “It tasted eggy anyway. I’m pretty sure they’re vegans.” Like I am not a vegan. They are not vegan.
“Oh, it was totally eggy. I was just thinking the same.” Lot nods, swipes the crumbs from the marble top then slips off her stool to load the plates into the dishwasher.
Brady, who did not eat half a cake, huffs a laugh. “You do know the ingredients are on the side of the box, don’t you? See right here?—”
Already on the move, Lotte swipes the box and shoves it in the trash. “Nobody likes a know-it-all Brady. Besides. It serves the boys right for sneaking.”
The sneaking she’s referring too, is Noah, Troye and his moms inspecting an apartment that’s for lease in their building. An inspection they think they’re doing on the down-low. If it hadn’t have been such a stunning summer’s day in Boston, and the agent hadn’t opened every window and door to showcase the apartment’s natural light and views, and the apartment hadn’t have been right next door, and they didn’t talk as loud as two drunk idiots in nightclub, they might have gotten away with it.
“I think it’s kind of romantic,” Brady says. “Even though I’ve been left behind with the little women while the men-folk go out to find shelter.”
“Aww. Poor baby.” I cup Brady’s beautiful face on my hands, and kiss the freckled tip of his nose. “You know they’ve been at practice. They probably came up with the genius plan there. I swear, though. For a dork who’s into superhero crap as much as Troye is, I’d have thought he’d be better at scheming.”
I haven’t had time to press another kiss to Brady’s now blushing face, when Noah bursts through the door. “Big, D. Can you, ahh. Can you come help me with the … trash. Yeah, the trash. I need you to help with the trash.”
Brady rolls his eyes, but smiles and he slides from his stool. “Sure thing, Cap.”
It only takes a second for all three of the boys’ muffled voices to filter through the walls and I make a mental note to soundproof, should we move in.
“I feel like I should take a feminist stand and insist on having a say, too, but I really want us to be neighbors. I also hate moving, so if they pick it, they can pack it.”
“Ohhh, you should put that on a tee shirt … where are you going?”
I’d just slipped off my seat and was walking towards my old room. “I’m going to my room. I still have some of my books in there. Why?”
“Umm.” Lotte returns to loading the dishwasher, but her big blue eyes keep peeking up at me. She looks guilty.
“What, Lotte. Just say it.”
She sighs, tosses her dish towel and moves back to the island bench.
“Nothing. I ahh, just wanted to talk. Come. Sit.” She taps the empty stool. “ I just want to check in and see how you’re doing. You’re always looking after everyone else and I just want to make sure someone is looking after you, too.”
“Lotte. We’ve just spent two whole days together. You know I’m okay.”
“I know, but I just need a little more reassurance.”
What the hell was in that cake? I’m too tired from the drive to argue, so I meander back and resume my seat. “Just to be clear. I am more than okay. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Yes. The last few months have been hard. Yes, I miss my relationship with Dad, but Mom’s been great and I think it will be easier for him to let go of control now that he’s not coaching either of the boys. Plum’s been helping him see that, too. She’s subtly therapizing him into listening, not just demanding.”
“Can’t say we’ve coveredtherapizingin my Psych Masters, but I’m sure if anyone could harness its magical powers, Faith could.”
“Ugh, I told you not to call her Faith. I might be cool with her now, but I’m not at first name level cool yet.”
“Well you better get there, soon. She’s going to be a part of the Green Line Program and that’s going to be a big part of Brady’s life. You can’t keep calling her Plum through gritted teeth every time you talk to her.”
“I could try.”
“Quinn.”
“Fine. I’ll try.”
Lotte giggles and points over my head. “Not that,that.” I spin on my seat and find Troye and Brady standing at the door. Brady is holding out his hand, three shiny brass keys resting in his palm. Troye is doing the same, only there’s no keys in his hand, but a fistful of perfect red roses. “You never did get those flowers to celebrate your birthday,” he says, voice strained. “So we thought we should get you some to celebrateourmoving-in day.”
“Moving-in day? You just inspected it. How can we move in?”
“We signed the lease last week.” Brady blushes. “Sorry for fibbing. But we knew you’d hate moving again, so we did it all over the weekend. Lotte even decorated our room just how you’d like before you left.”
“Now all we need is you,” Troye adds as I run to my boys, inelegantly throwing myself at them and being enveloped in their arms. “All we’ll ever need is you, Kitty.”
