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“And why not? Why can’t he?”
I am silent a moment, letting my thoughts settle, and I let out a shaky breath, holding Quinn to me. “Because…because for years I pretended I was someone I wasn’t and everything that’s happened to Joshua and Karen since then feels like my fault. This seems like my penance.”
Quinn stiffens beneath me. “Horseshit, Grey. Everyone comes out in their own time. You were young and Karen is just a spiteful bitch.”
A small snort escapes me and I sniffle loudly. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“Yeah, well no. Not when it comes to her. I’ve seen her in action and have heard enough of her lies. You’ve done nothing wrong. You have spent your entire life making sure Joshua has a good life, even making sure Karen has one. You’ve more than made up for any hurt you caused. Enough is enough. No more, Grey. You need to start standing up for yourself.”
I sit with that, my thoughts a jumble of emotions. I scoot closer to him, letting my ear rest over his thrumming heart. It’s strong and steady, and it reminds me so much of Quinn. And while part of me believes him, another, much larger part, still thinks that he can’t possibly be right. I could never tell Joshua the truth. It could possibly destroy his relationship with his mother and I’d never want to do that.
So, as much as Quinn wants me to start standing up for myself, I just can’t. I’m going to keep all those secrets stuffed away inside of me. Maybe one day Joshua will figure it all out for himself. But I’m not going to be the one to tell him.
Hopefully Joshua can come to want a relationship with me without knowing all of the things I’ve done for him. Maybe he can love me for who I am.
I breathe in the scent of Quinn and let my eyes close.
I am just going to file this all away for later. Right now I am just going to relish in my time with Quinn because tomorrow we have to pretend like we don’t know each other in this way.
We have to go back to keeping our hands to ourselves.
I hold him tighter.
We still have tonight.
* * *
We pack up camp in the morning and drive over to the Grand Sable Dunes before we head to Marquette. We park on the side of the road and trek up the slope, and when we get to the top of the mountainous sandy dunes, we pull our shoes off, holding them in our hands as the four of us lookdown.
“Should we race to the bottom?” Joshua asks, and I glance over at him.
“If we run down there, we have to come back up.”
“Too old, Dad?” Joshua jokes, and I crack a smile at him. I feel old at the moment, but before I can open my mouth to say that, Joshua is running downhill, sand kicking up as he moves down the dune at breakneck speeds. Hailey glances over at me and smiles, following him down, her braid swinging back and forth as she runs. Quinn nods toward them.
“Race you?” he asks, and I bite my bottom lip, contemplating it before I jerk forward, nearly toppling over as I follow my son and his girlfriend down the steep incline. Winter trots along beside me like this is no big deal, his woofs and pants piercing the air.
As I descend, my heart is thundering in my chest, Quinn’s laugh filtering through the wind behind me. And minutes later, we finally stumble to a stop at the lake shore.
All of our chests are heaving, our bodies covered in a thin layer of sand, our hair mussed and our eyes wild.
“Fuck, that was steep,” Joshua says and swipes a hand over his head.
I glance behind me and look up, up,upand groan because we have a long hike back to our vehicles after this.
“Come on. Let’s not think about that. Let’s walk for a bit,” Quinn says, thumbing over his shoulder. Winter laps at the waves, his paws getting wet as we move down the shoreline. Joshua grabs a stick and throws it for him and he happily chases it down, bringing it back to us, his eye twinkling in delight.
“So, Joshua tells me you two are going to the same college,” I tell Hailey as Joshua throws the stick once more.
She bobs her head. “Yep! We are. Indiana University has a great ESL program there. I know Joshua is still undecided, but I think they have some majors that he seems interested in.”
I glance over at my son and he nods. “I have time to figure it out. Two years right?” When I just bob my head, Joshua asks, “Quinn, you ever reconsider going to that art school in New York? I know you were debating it.”
My heart drops in my chest because this is the first I’m hearing of it. I thought Quinn would be attending a school nearby, if he was attending at all. That was the impression he gave me, at least.
Quinn’s cheeks flush and he shrugs. “I turned them down. I want to stay close to home.”
I eye him warily when Joshua reaches out and shoves at his shoulder. “But that was your dream school.”
