Page 4 of Turning Back

“You know it,” he says, shooting me with his finger. “Anyway, I’m gonna spend my time at each one, one day a week. And I’m bringing Precious along to make me more approachable.”

I laugh at the thought of Smith trying to be approachable. “Aren’t the little deviants supposed to be in school at this time of day?”

“You can’t rush progress, Quin. Of course I want them in school, but I never went to school. So I figure I’d hire some tutors and run some GED classes during the day. Get them all up to speed on that in between kicking the shit out of each other. Chella wants to do scholarships too. For the ones who show interest and commitment. So you know, I’m changing the world one kid at a time.”

I stare at him, amazed at how much being with Chella has changed him for the better. Smith has always been generous with his fortune. I would never say a bad word about him to anyone other than Bric or Chella. Or Rochelle. And that’s just friendship talking, you know? I’m allowed to be annoyed with him sometimes because we’re friends and we care about each other.

But it’s nice to see him like this. All settled with a woman and excited about his plans. He used to just let Bric handle all his charity work. Now he’s invested.

What a difference a year makes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Smith asks.

I was the happy one last year and he was the broody asshole.

“What?” he prods. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re just so damn… satisfied.”

“Hell, yeah, I’m satisfied. My life has never been more on track than it is right now. And,” he says, lowering his voice and looking around like someone might hear us. Which is stupid. We’re in my condo. “We might be getting pregnant soon.”

“Shit,” I say, running my fingers through my messy bed hair. “Really?”

“I’m not getting any younger, Quin. My biological clock is ticking like a goddamned time bomb. If I want five kids, we need to start pronto.”

I try to picture Smith Baldwin with five kids and can’t get past the image of him changing diapers. “Chella wants five kids?” I ask, trying to decide if she’s into spending the rest of her thirties barefoot and pregnant.

Smith almost spits out his burrito when he laughs. “She thinks I’m nuts. But she’ll come around. I have a plan that will change her mind.” He taps his head with his foil-covered food. “And it all starts with that dog.” He points to Precious, who is still sitting demurely inside his gym bag, her pink-ribbon-adorned head the only thing visible.

“Yeah,” I say, just staring at the dog. “Well, I’m happy for you guys. Really. It’s amazing what you’ve done this past year.”

“Which is what we need to talk about,” Smith says, setting his food and coffee down. “You need to stop, man. You need to let her go. Rochelle is gone, Quin. She’s never coming back. She’s moved on. Lives a whole other life now.”

“You don’t know that,” I say. “We never found her. Not even Bric found her. And I know he’s been looking. He leaves me messages once a month to update me.”

“Which is nice of him, by the way. Since you refuse to talk to him or answer his calls.”

I sigh. “It’s not like I made a conscious decision.”

“I know, you say this every time I bring it up. But conscious or not, you fucked up, Quin. He’s a good guy. He didn’t realize she’d take him so literally, you know?”

“My problem is… he should’ve known that. She depended on him for advice. That was always his role in the game. The girls have problems, they go to Bric. He talks to them in that stupid reasonable voice of his, and gives them good advice. He told her—”

“He gave her the options, Quin. That’s it. He never told her to get an abortion. He’s a man. He thinks like a man. He had no idea she’d walk out like that.”

I huff out a long breath of air. We’ve been over this a million times. I get it. Bric made a mistake. Probably an innocent mistake. But it had a very dramatic effect on my life. I can’t let it go.

“You need to let it go,” Smith says, like he’s reading my mind. “It’s time, Quin. One year has passed. If she wanted to contact us, she would’ve done it by now.”

“I know,” I say, some of the sadness creeping back in. One year is a long time. Enough time to get past something that hurt and try to patch things up. But she’s still gone. And no one can find her. She wants to be gone. She wants to stay gone. Otherwise she’d leave a trail. She wouldn’t be so careful about not opening credit cards or whatever people refuse to do when trying to hide themselves. She’d be in the open. And she’s not.

“And you need to make things right with Bric. He’s unhappy too, you know. Both of you are so fucking pathetic right now, I’m about to lose my mind. Just go over there and talk to him.”

“Not today,” I say. And I say it firmly. With enough conviction that Smith doesn’t press. Not today of all days. I can’t do it.

“Not today,” Smith agrees. “Fine. But soon. You’d both be much happier if you’d fix this part, at least. So Rochelle’s gone. I get it. But Bric is still here. I’m still here. Chella is still here. You’re OK, Quin. I promise. You are.”

I think about that for a few seconds.