“Fuck off, Tate.”
I stand in silence for another few minutes, taking in the emerging stars, enjoying the way they seem to bloom from nothing, lighting up the sky all around them. Reminds me of her.
Quinn came here kind of out of nowhere. One day I see a flyer, and a month later, a little blonde in cowgirl Barbie boots is here, filming my every sneeze and ball scratch. And now she’s shone so much light on what’s possible, what the futurecan be, what life can look like… I’m not sure how I’ll ever wrap my mind around a future without her.
“Hey, cowboy,” she greets, pushing open the back door, Sadie on her heels. Quinn loops an arm around my waist, and I drop mine over her shoulders, my eyes closing as she sighs against me. Sadie nuzzles her way between us and juts her finger out, pointing up at the purple sky. “Look! There’s the Dipper!”
Quinn snickers. “Is that the Big Dipper or Little Dipper? Do you remember how to tell them apart?”
Sadie tips her head to one side, then the other, clearly in thought. My lips curve watching her try to become a little astronomer, watching her have more than chores and playin’ with me. That’s been a gift Quinn’s given us and I’m not sure she even realizes the value.
“I’m thinkin’ it’s the regular Dipper,” she decides, nodding her head. “Yeah, that’s just the regular one. For sures.”
Quinn blinks up at me, wrinkling her nose with a little smirk. “What do you think, D addy,” she says, not reacting to her own choice of words, like the domestic title she just gave me is platonic and natural. “You think it’s the regular Dipper?”
I shake my head, the backs of my eyes stinging. I can’t look up at these stars and feel all these things. It’s too much for me right now, with my hip aching from being thrown off the bronc earlier, and my neck sore as hell from so many failed attempts at marking out the last few days. I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I don’t think I can test my strength right now. Grabbing Sadie beneath her arms, I hoist her up and set her on the banister, and step back. “Look at what Tate and I did for Miss Quinn.”
Quinn didn’t notice when she stepped out, but her eyes come to mine, shimmering and beautiful. “Landry.”
I watch her take in the closed-off porch, moving her fingers delicately over the twinkle lights, then along the soft hem of the pillow, before sinking into the chair, Sadie climbing into her lap immediately.
“It’s so pretty, Daddy,” Sadie coos, nuzzling into Quinn as if it’s the most natural thing, the same way she gets comfortable in my lap.
“Landry,” Quinn repeats, stroking her fingers through Sadie’s curls. Her eyes sting with unshed tears and I crouch to my knee, ignoring the flare of pain in my left hip and the soreness stinging my bones, and cup her face.
“Don’t cry.”
She swipes beneath her eyes as Sadie slides out of her lap, racing to the edge of the porch when she notices the vase of wildflowers there. She gets to work plucking each out, sniffing the center before replacing it for another. Sometimes I’m grateful she’s just six, because that attention span lets us have a moment here and there.
“You did all of this for me,” she says, chin wobbly. “It’s just, it’s really sweet, Landry.”
I drag the callused pad of my thumb beneath her eye and steal those tears. “You edit so much. I hate that you’re stashed away up there.” I lower my voice. “It’s selfish, really, this little porch. It’s just so I can see more of you while you’re here.”
She doesn’t say anything but smiles, and I help Sadie refill the vase when she knocks it over and dumps the water out.
“Miss Quinn has her rescheduled work call tonight, sugar, so we need to get you inside, to bed,” I tell my daughter after a quick glance at the clock in the wall through the window.
Melvin never showed up for their planned call a few days back, then his assistant rescheduled for eight o’clock tonight. Icould never like or respect a man who cheats, but a man who cheats on Quinn is a man I could live without. I have to say, not respecting Quinn’s time and throwing her into a last-minute, evening work call is shitty.
I’d wanted to sit in on her call, but because it’s happening in a few minutes, I’ll have to put Sadie to bed. I won’t be able to be there.
Quinn slips inside while we replace the flowers and say good night to Big Bertha, and she returns with her laptop and phone, ready for her call. “I’ll take it out here, since I have such a beautiful space to brag about,” she says, smiling at me, the happiness of it stilted, her eyes unmoving.
“Okay.” I nod my head, and our eyes linger as Sadie brushes past, running inside, taking the stairs by two. I motion after her. “Gonna get her bathed and in bed.” A firefly dances by the porch, briefly illuminating the space. Somewhere in the distance, a bird cries out and a cow moos softly. The pipes hum from Sadie’s running water. But the world goes quiet when she slips her hand in mine.
“Thank you, Landry. For this beautiful space, and for making my time here so amazing.”
I hate how temporary everything suddenly feels and sounds, so I say, “I’ll come join you, if I’m done in time.”
She smiles. “I’d like that.”
CHAPTER 23
OUR FIRST SLEEPOVER
“It’s a good thing, trust me,”I tell my mom, who is eating blueberries out of the carton on the other side of the phone screen.
“I’m not so sure about that, Quinn,” Mom says.
