Page 53 of Turning Back

“What’s up?” Quin says, looking over his shoulder for the waitress. She comes up, pen and pad ready, and Quin says, “Coffee and cornflakes.” Which kinda makes me happy again, because Quin and cornflakes go together like bread and butter.

At least that’s still the same.

Quin moves Adley’s seat, placing it on the empty chair, and then scoots in closer to me. Puts his arm around me. Leans in and kisses me.

I kiss him back. But just when I start to get in to it, he pulls away.

I look at Bric. Bric is smiling. Like this is a good sign.

This is not a good sign. He didn’t mean that kiss. He’s not sitting across from me. He walked out on me this morning without saying goodbye.

Everything is wrong.

“Hi, Adley,” Quin says.

Adley has turned her head now to face Quin. She’s got her tangerine slice smeared all over her face.

“Do you like that?” Quin asks in a low voice as he touches her pudgy fist.

Adley turns her head away, smearing my sweater with tangerine juice, and goes back to staring at Bric.

Quin sits back in the booth, and when I look over at him, he’s frowning. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I don’t think she likes me.”

“She doesn’t even know you, Quin,” Bric says. “It’s been two days.”

“She seems to like you well enough,” Quin says, picking up the coffee the waitress just set down and sipping it. “And you hate kids.”

“Other people’s kids,” Bric corrects. “Why would I hate my own kid?”

Quin says nothing. But I can read his mind. She’s not yours. She’s mine.

“So what are you guys gonna do tonight?” Quin asks. “Big plans?”

I stare down at Adley’s head. It’s my night with Bric.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join in,” Bric says.

I look up at him, then over to Quin.

Quin shrugs. “I guess. I have a late meeting today, so I’ll probably just show up after dinner.”

When I glance over at Bric he’s got a smug look on his face that says, Leave everything to me.

But show up after dinner? To me, that means, I’ll show up to fuck.

“We can have dinner together,” I say, testing out my theory. “We’ll wait for you.”

“Nah,” Quin says. “I’ll get dinner at work and then come by around eight.”

Eight. Yup. Just for the fuck.

The waitress brings Quin’s bowl of cornflakes and a small pitcher of milk, so I spend the next several minutes watching him eat as Bric talks to Adley. Quin misses none of that interaction. His eyes are on Bric and Adley the whole time.

He never once glances at me.

At one point, Adley holds her arms out for Bric, like she wants him to pick her up. And to my surprise, he obliges her, taking her from my lap and placing her in his, as he makes faces and talks about all the different kinds of untouched fruit on my plate.