Page 102 of The Puck Bunny

She turns an accusing glare on Mom who surprises me by looking contrite.

“I thought it would be best because you… were having a hard time. With him.” She points at Quinn.

“Wait—how did you know?” I’m so shocked I forgot to be embarrassed that Quinn is getting an earful of my family drama.

Mom snorts. “It’s not hard to figure. You still have his poster hanging in your bedroom for pity’s sake and now he’s on the team. Then, I saw you with him and I figured, well, maybe there’s some hope.” She shoots daggers at him now, squinting her eyes as if she has the old Italian lady power to curse him. She doesn’t or my one and only boyfriend would be dead by now.

I turn to Bobby. He’s been quietly sizing Quinn up as if he’s measuring him for a coffin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m more hurt than mad because he had his chance and we’ve shared so much.

He looks down and shrugs. “Same reason. Besides, I figure it was Billie Mae’s place to tell you.”

“Besides, you have secrets of your own,” Billie Mae says, but the bite of her accusation is muted by her guilt.

“I told you I was going to a wedding.”

“You told me a lot of things,” Billie Mae says. “Like that you were done with him.” She jerks her head at Quinn.

“She was done with me,” Quinn says. “But I’m not done with her.”

“Is that right?” Bobby steps forward with menace in his voice.

“Yes, sir. Bobby.” Quinn puts his hand out . But I can tell he’s nervous underneath because his jaw ticks just under his left ear. It’s a tell I’ve seen before, usually around Jonas who gets under his skin.

Every instinct in me shouts to intervene, to protect him, but I meet my mother’s eyes and I read her loud and clear. Don’t let him off the hook, don’t rescue him, give him room to sink or swim—any one of those pearls of wisdom that my mother has preached over the years in an effort to encourage independence.

Has she been keeping me at home all this time or have I been holding myself back? And just because I leave home doesn’t mean I’ll lose my family, does it? Dad came back, didn’t he?

“In fact, I talked her into coming to my family’s day after Thanksgiving dinner up in Portsmouth, New Hampshire

“Is that true, Sara?” Bobby asks.

“Yes.” I’m done lying and pretending to myself and my family. Everyone here cares about me.

Quinn wraps an arm around my shoulders, reclaiming me from Billie Mae’s grasp. I stand straight and then lean my head on his shoulder because I want to and it feels right.

“I would love it if you would all join us,” he says, a genuine note of excitement in his voice.

At first, I’m thinking he’s being polite, but then my head slaps me into reality. He means this.

“Seriously?” Billie Mae asks with serious skepticism.

“He’s just being polite,” Mom says.

“No, I mean it. My mom would love to meet you. She’s been dying to see Sara again. I really mean it.” He holds up his right hand as if he’s taking an oath.

“We can’t go off and leave my husband and Paul and Yolanda and Grandma Zanetti behind,” Mom says.

I shake my head. “Mom—”

“Bring them all. Your whole family is invited,” Quinn says and I feel compelled to shake him, but I’m in no position to shake anyone.

I snort. “That’s crazy talk,” I manage to say.

Mom waves me off like I’m the crazy one. “Call your mom right now to ask if it’s okay and you’re on.”

Quinn gives Mom a respectful nod and pulls out his phone. Right there, in front of us all, he tells her he’s bringing seven more guests to dinner.